2 min
Posted as Episode #39) Stoney Baloney | A Narrated Cannabis Column
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- Comedy
I’ll tell you something, in about 10 years, you bullies better watch your asses. That’s because you do not want to mess with a dude who’s been well-trained in martial arts as a kid. And these days, it’s awfully popular with the youngins who aren’t too down with team sports. Some of them are nomads, riding solo, hanging in the shadows, maybe a little anti-social.
As an adult outside the bar, they can appear to be easy prey.
The prima donna skilled in the practice of intimidation may want to swallow a pill of caution when the Saturday Night Fever is brewing. He’s been at it since happy hour and now midnight is approaching. His blood is carbonated from the fiery liquid that’s loading the bulging trapezoids and it’s fueling his arrogance.
He’s got his swagger in power mode, feeling alive, looking to step up the excitement, ready to entertain, an easy ass-whipping guaranteed for the primed crowd.
But there are no guarantees in life, we all inevitably learn.
And for some, the lesson comes hard.
Everyone loves an underdog. Some of the most memorable events in history have featured a reluctant participant pushed to the corner with no alternative but to defend what is right. He is surprisingly prepared. And if you’ve never seen a skinny, undersized dude who’s trained to fight handle a bodacious, drunk a*****e until he’s beet red-faced and gassed, it is truly a delight to witness. I mean, I’m all for peace and love, but sometimes you get a meathead who feels compelled to put all his gym hours to use. And he f***s with the wrong guy. What he leaves with is called an epiphany. It’s when the lion learns that he no longer rules the pride.
He just had to have that last shot.
Dipshit should’ve smoked a bowl instead.
I’ll tell you something, in about 10 years, you bullies better watch your asses. That’s because you do not want to mess with a dude who’s been well-trained in martial arts as a kid. And these days, it’s awfully popular with the youngins who aren’t too down with team sports. Some of them are nomads, riding solo, hanging in the shadows, maybe a little anti-social.
As an adult outside the bar, they can appear to be easy prey.
The prima donna skilled in the practice of intimidation may want to swallow a pill of caution when the Saturday Night Fever is brewing. He’s been at it since happy hour and now midnight is approaching. His blood is carbonated from the fiery liquid that’s loading the bulging trapezoids and it’s fueling his arrogance.
He’s got his swagger in power mode, feeling alive, looking to step up the excitement, ready to entertain, an easy ass-whipping guaranteed for the primed crowd.
But there are no guarantees in life, we all inevitably learn.
And for some, the lesson comes hard.
Everyone loves an underdog. Some of the most memorable events in history have featured a reluctant participant pushed to the corner with no alternative but to defend what is right. He is surprisingly prepared. And if you’ve never seen a skinny, undersized dude who’s trained to fight handle a bodacious, drunk a*****e until he’s beet red-faced and gassed, it is truly a delight to witness. I mean, I’m all for peace and love, but sometimes you get a meathead who feels compelled to put all his gym hours to use. And he f***s with the wrong guy. What he leaves with is called an epiphany. It’s when the lion learns that he no longer rules the pride.
He just had to have that last shot.
Dipshit should’ve smoked a bowl instead.
2 min