June 18, 2004


foot punch
Taste my foot justice, wrinkly-clothed man!
Tonight I went to the pub with my housemate to see a band.

While The Androids were playing, and we drank our drinks, I noticed this dishevelled looking fellow. He looked like a prematurely aged thirty-something. What caught my attention was that he was talking to a bloke who didn't exactly appear to be one of his peers. The other bloke was fucking huge, built and wore a leather jacket with a (urk) trucker cap.

I watched them leave together. I could see them outside in the pouring rain. They seemed to exchange a few words, then the dishevelled guy put up his fists in ye olde boxing style. This was totally unexpected.

In a move that was as slapstick as it was violent, the trucker hat did a roundhouse kick straight into the little fellow's face. The wee man went flying backwards and hit the gutter and the road. He picked himself up, and the big man frogmarched the little man back into the pub, and threw the little man into our table. He briefly hid behind me.

The two went back outside. The smaller man held up his hands in protest as if to say "okay, okay, don't kick me in the fucking face again", then they left together.