Halloween

It's Halloween weekend here in Athens, and it's always an interesting time. There's just something about this giant block party, I never know quite how it's going to turn out. Or maybe it's just seeing all the people dressed up in the most outlandish outfits ever while drinking a whole bunch of alcohol. No matter how you look at it it's always a fun time.

Last year I went as a gangster, and it wasn't a bad costume. Pinstripe suit, fedora, I was looking good. This year however, due to laziness and just general being busy I have no costume. So I'm really wondering what the hell I should wear around tonight. Probably just my leather coat and hat of some sort, but I still kinda wish that I had the foresight to actually come up with something, or anything. I suppose at this point it doesn't matter in the least, I'm just going to go out and hang no matter what I'm wearing. It still kinda bothers me that i don't have a costume though.

Last night was extremely interesting, I decided to drop acid for the first time ever. It was a lot like shrooms to be honest, but very very different at the same time. More intense somehow? I'm not sure, but I'm going to remember that night for a good long while though. I mean we just walked everywhere, smoked cigarettes like my lungs were disappearing tomorrow, smoked a fair amount of weed, talked about every topic, saw the sunrise, it was a really good time. I probably don't want to do it again anytime soon, but it was an excellent experience. The crowning moment of the night was staggering to BP at 7 in the morning and buying cigarettes and M&M's, sometimes there's just no explaining things.

Other than all that things are chugging right along, life does it's thing. I'll probably try and finish some other story and post it up here at some point. If I want to write I've just got to do it, so expect more of that in the future. All in all, it promises to be a memorable weekend if nothing else.

A Story

I'm up late and this is what comes out.

Fight

He was drunk and pissed, and his friends were egging him on even. At this point I don’t think even Jesus himself would have had a choice. I think back to the previous couple of minutes, it’s impossible to even remember what this stupid shit is even about anymore. It’s probably just the couple of beers screwing with my system.

“I wonder how much longer I have,” I think. I look him over one more time.

“Probably only a couple of minutes.”

So I finish what’s left of my beer and lead the group outside. It seemed to have swelled quite a bit in the intervening minutes.

“Well at least we’ll have an audience.”

Once we clear the doorway, the group seems to decide through telepathy that the best place to do this would be behind the bar in the alley. And so we all mosey on back there. He’s jumping up and down now, all pumped and pissed; he looks just like a boxer in the ring. I’m almost expecting someone to start rubbing his shoulders and squirt water into his mouth.

I stand off about ten feet away from him, hands in my pockets, and just stare. When the cops come a running, I don’t want to be the one getting booked on assault charges. However, it seems that just standing and being quiet really pisses this guy off, because he starts screaming.

It’s the usual pre-fight trash talking and cursing, calls me a pussy, my mother a whore, asks me when I’m going to grow a pair and swing at him, etc, ad naseum. I’ve heard way too many times to count, and it’s always the same shit. You’d think that people would show some differences, being unique and all. But every single time it’s the same worn out, tired curses.

I just watch him. He doesn’t really seem to notice though. He’s playing to the crowd at this point. Flexing his muscles, taking off his shirt in really dramatic way, throwing those pointed barbs at me. They all seem to appreciate the show. Finally though, he stops the pre-game bullshit and wades in.

I could tell he thought he knew what he was doing, probably was in a fight or two in high school, and maybe played on the football team. Like that teaches you anything realistic. One thing I’ve always noticed about these guys, they fight like they’re being watched; big haymakers, dodging and weaving like a boxer, aiming for the chest and head. And I’ll be the first to admit, it doesn’t look bad, it’s just a bad way to fight. Fighting isn’t about looking good, or playing fair, or getting that perfect knock out punch. It’s about one thing and one thing only, pain.

A lot of people don’t realize this, or at least realize it in anyway that counts. A fight is about causing enough pain so that your opponent is no longer a threat. Think about that for a second, your goal, or at least what should be your goal. Is to cause his eyes to water with pain, to have pretty much all thought and cognitive ability absorbed by the waves of anguish you cause; to leave him on the ground whimpering. It’s a nasty, bloody, dirty business. So that’s how I start off.

He advances, arms up, left foot forward, basically like every boxer he’s ever watched on prime time. I’m still standing and watching, hands still in the pockets. You can tell he doesn’t like this; it doesn’t look good for one. I’m supposed to throw ineffectual punches at him so he can feel justified as he pounds my skull into a pulp. I’m not supposed to just stand and not make any moves whatsoever. His friends are yelling though. And the mere thought of being somehow “disgraced” in their eyes is enough to overcome his last vestiges of moral qualms.

He swings. A simple jab to the chest, I take it. It knocks me back a bit, but not enough to make me shift my footing. And it hurts a bit, not a lot, but I wasn’t supposed to get hit by that one anyway. Everyone knows that you block the first punch and then get set up for the right hand roundhouse. Unfortunately, just letting him hit me isn’t part of that pretty little plan. So he pauses.

“Perfection.”

That one pause is all I needed; in the half second he’s trying to figure out why I didn’t move, my feet are moving. Front snap kick, it really sounds innocuous. However in this kind of street fight, it’s anything but. There’s always that first look of surprise in their eyes as the ball of my foot connects with their groin. If he had any breath in his lungs at this point, he’d probably say something like:

“That’s not fair.”

Which is kind of the point.

It doesn’t end the fight though, not just by itself. A quick rabbit punch to the sternum and then I grab his arm. It almost looks like we’re shaking hands, so I step in, my back to his front and his arm up over my right shoulder.

I bring the arm down.

He screams at this point, a broken arm will do that to a guy. I step back and to the left, keeping my grip on his arm. It flips him over and onto his back. He’s gasping, tears running down his face and onto the pavement. I bring my fist down on his nose.

Just so you understand that last part, I was standing vertical and he was on his back on the ground. I brought my whole body weight and then some onto the bridge of this guy’s nose. Needless to say, it smashes flat, and his head bounces off the concrete. He goes limp.

No one’s talking and shouting anymore, and I always wonder why that happens. They got what they came here to see, they saw blood, they saw pain, they saw someone win and someone lose. No one ever says anything though; they just drift off to the sound of approaching sirens.

I leave my opponent to his friends; I couldn’t care less about him at this point. I just want to do what I originally came here for. So I walk into the bar, grab a stool, and order a beer. It’s nice and cold, a perfect drink.

Introduction

Yah, I'm pretty bad at this whole blogging thing, so as opposed to introducing myself in the first post, why not on post 3?

Alright, let's do this.

My name is Frank, and it's short for Francis. A hell of a moniker to say the least. Ever get called Frankenstein as a child, or told that you're named after a talking mule? It warps you a bit. In a good way though, it makes it much easier to laugh at life. You can't take yourself seriously when a talking ass shares your name.

I'm a nerd, and I enjoy it. I've played and still play table-top role playing games. My favorite system for that is Shadowrun 3rd edition, but I've played d20 the most. I also play a ton of video games, way too many to list here. Currently though, Rome:Total War, Bioshock, Street
Fighter 2, and Guitar Hero are the big time sinks. I really enjoy a good video game, probably just basic escapism, but it's still a really fun time.

I read a whole bunch, again too many books to conceivably list here. But my favorite authors are Joseph Heller, George R.R. Martin, Chuck Palahniuk ( I hope I spelled that right), Robert Heinlein, and few more that are pretty obscure. I'm currently reading "Still Life with Woodpecker" By Tom Robbins, and "Cryptonomicon" By Neal Stephenson. Both good books so far, I'd recommend them.

I also write a bit in my spare time, It's fairly amateur stuff and I never finish the damn things, but I write. To be honest, a life as a professional writer would be a dream job. However, I have to write well, write a whole bunch, and finish stories. Something that's rather hard to do in college life. Still though, I'll probably post chunks of stories or maybe even finished works *gasp* here.

Movies, how could I have forgotten movies? I'm a huge movie fan, I just really like them in some sort of unexplainable way. Favorite Film? Jesus, what a question... Blade Runner. Sci-Fi Noir and Harrison Ford, it's good shit. I'm also a big Wes Anderson fan, So I'm looking forward to the Darjeeling Unlimited coming out this weekend. Other than that, I think I can leave movies alone, It's such a big topic that it needs a whole post just to do it right.

Music! I'm a big music fan, almost everyone is, but it doesn't really change the fact. My favorite genres are Ska/Punk and Jazz, both very cool. I'm not feeling a list of bands that I like, but take it for granted that despite those two genres it's an eclectic and crazy list.

So there it is, a basic introduction. Some description and some stuff I like. It should be enough, after It seems to me the the idea behind a blog is to remain semi-anonymous, so it should be enough to at least set the tone. I'll see you next post.

A Real Beginning

All right, so it's the first post and I screwed it up already. A wonderful start for sure.

So I'm not entirely sure why I'm doing this, but I kind of want to so why the fuck not? Not like there's a blog police that'll kick down my door and arrest me for posting on inane and frivolous subjects. A weird idea to say the least, they'd have to kick down the door of pretty much every blogger in the country, or world rather. But to get back on topic, I'm starting this blog basically to have a vent. Someplace to just let it flow, and it should be a fun time. Don't expect regular posts and don't expect any sort of coherent theme, and we'll get along just fine.

By the way the title is from a Humphrey Bogart quote, I'm sure you can find it if you really care all that much.