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I’m a 37-Year-Old Man and This Will Be My Last, and First, Bar Fight

Dude, those guys over there are Talking Shit. I’m telling you, man, I’m about to go over there and fuck ‘em up. They’re lucky I’m not in my 20s anymore, or I already would have. I used to crack some skulls back in the day.

Hold on, dude. Let’s stretch first. If we’re gonna fuck these guys up, we don’t want to be sore tomorrow. I have to coach my kids’ soccer team. It’s already gonna be a bitch with bruised knuckles.

And we need a plan. I wanna know exactly what I’m gonna do and then go over there and do it, ya know? Let me look up that punch Brad Pitt did in Snatch really quick. Remember when he knocked that guy out cold with one punch? I’ll do that to one of them, and it’ll scare the rest of those fuckers away. 

Just wondering, where do you put your feet when you’re in your fighting stance? I can’t remember which one I used to put in front. Maybe I stood with them right next to each other. Does this look weird? I think Steven Seagal stands like this. 

Shit, man, my hands are shaking. I’m ready to put one of those motherfuckers to sleep. Feels like 2006. I don’t know why my knees are weak, though. Probably those salty-ass asparagus fries.

Yeah, I’m okay. Ready to kick some teeth in, dude. They don’t know what’s coming. By the way, what do you do with your thumbs? Are you an outside- or inside-the-fist guy? Outside? Yeah, me too.

I need to calm down first. Don’t want to go in there all jacked up. In a fight, you have to keep your emotions in check. I’m gonna take a beta blocker to cool off.

Do you ever think about the ethics of fighting? Yeah, me neither. But a fight is a contest where you figure out who is physically superior, more of a man. It assumes an uncertain outcome. It’s pointless, maybe even immoral, if we already know we’re going to destroy those fucking pussies, right?

No, I’m not saying they don’t deserve it, and I’m definitely not scared, especially not of those losers. What are they, like, 25 years old? I mean, I’ve got one more fight in me. I just don’t know if I want to waste it on those bitches. It wouldn’t even be close.

Yeah, I get that it’s about respect, but what if we tell the manager they’re causing trouble? Think about it. They’ll get kicked out, and they’ll be so pissed! They’ll fucking respect us then.

Or maybe we call my wife and tell her to bring the baby up here? If she shows them the child of the guy they’re talking shit about, it will blow their fucking minds! They’ll at least respect me as a father. 

Plus, my wife took karate when she was a kid. She’s a badass. If they keep talking shit, she’ll kick the shit out of them, and we won’t have to do anything, except laugh. How epic would that be?

She’s not answering. 

She’s probably asleep. Let’s get an Uber and get the fuck out of here? Those fuckfaces are lucky I’m dehydrated from those asparagus fries.

The post I’m a 37-Year-Old Man and This Will Be My Last, and First, Bar Fight appeared first on Robot Butt.



This post first appeared on Robot Butt | Purveyors Of Fine Comedy And Satire, please read the originial post: here

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