Wow... Tricked you again. Well, you know the drill. Read, then learn something.

While that last story was a buzz kill, this one is ought to get the buzz back on.
That's right, I am talking about the time I fought a guy in a bar. This was no ordinary bar, this was one of those out-door stage bars, many times I have performed there. It is right in the middle of Wichita.

So anyways, I am enjoying my martini (Dirty, double olive, Half and half of Beefeater 24 gin and 30 proof Martini brand vermouth, shaken for twenty seconds in a third of a cup of hand crushed ice, served with exactly one green olive on a stick and a swimming pickled onion slice. If it isn't to these exact specifications, I will spit it out and send it back), and this guy comes up to me out of nowhere, and starts trash talking me for drinking such an elegant drink in a biker bar. I says, "Hey Mac, I just want to enjoy the music have a cigar with my martini."
Well, he did not take too kindly of that. Perhaps he was jealous that I walked ever so confidently to the bar and ordered my martini, and described exactly how I wanted it in explicit detail, while he was only stuck with gross rum and cola. By this time, his gang starts surrounding us, and he starts saying fighting words. So I say, "Them's fightin' words!" as I spit a handsome wad of tobacco spit in the spittoon (like they have in those old time saloons) without batting an eye.

So he pushes for a fight, and I accept his challenge, however, I had one condition. I told him that I stay true to the "Nothing below the belt" rule. He agreed, and before he could raise his fist, I ripped my belt off and put it on my head, and kindly reminded him about the belt rule. Needless to say, he got very angry, and started to throw his punch. But, I ducked, and simultaneously kicked him in the boys. He went down. His biker friends started getting angry, and start to yell at me, telling me that was going against my rules. I kindly pointed out to him that he was not wearing a belt.

So they figured I wasn't worth it, and helped the guy to one of the other chairs across the bar. And I continued to drink my martini.

Moral of the story: Fight smart, not hard. Also, always wear a belt in a bar, you never know when you are going to challenge a bloke like me.

Oh, and yes, there is actually indeed tragic news in this blog as well. Shortly after the fight, I spilled my martini...