Just in from a fire after the bar.

Bar was pretty uneventful until the end. Tatted up meathead, woulda been 6', 170 w/o the juice, almost got into a scrap with a 50 y/o young Homer Simpson withe the high horse shoe bald going on. Then while the disgustingly fat broad was whining to the bar owner, "My man don't wanna cause no trouble," some white trash shit head started trying to play bad ass where he had no business. After he got lippy with me and I told the juice head "That guy just said your Mom," Mr. White Trash Superstar proceeded to get lippy w/ a drunk off duty lil bitch of a cop. Superstar wouldn't shut the fuck up so drunken 5-0 called in on duty pigs.

My friend and I headed towards our cars as we heard the lil bitch 5-0 describing an all out brawl, so cops would get there before he was beaten down. As I approach my ve-hickle, I notice a mulatto broad w/ bouncy Misty Stone hair clinging to the arm rest of her door, so she can avoid laying in the puddle of her vomit. She apparently was upright in the driver seat of the car, when the alcohol hit her.

I was greeted by a guttural groan and another wave of vomit while I approached and asked if she was OK. I grabbed her shoulder and held her from face planting in her mess, as she proceeded to heave, letting loose the occasional fart from the straining. Once I got her upright, and made sure her keys weren't in the ignition, I started to run down her options for how to get home safe. She asked if I was security, and I tolde her, "I'm just an asshole from down the street that doesn't want to see you die if you try and make it home on your own." Sweat kinda brown sugar then apologized in advance of hacking and trying to spit. I say trying, because to actually spit you need enough trajectory to have it not land on your lip and chest.

By this time the cops were there and my 6-pack was in the parking spot next to her car. I told her to wait a moment, grabbed my beer and approached the closest uniformed pig. "These guys are to scared of you to cause any trouble now, but if you don't go shut that fat broad up, someone id probably going to hit her." He smiled, I went to my truck to deposit my beer.

I approached the Bouncy Fro's car again, to try and keep the cops away. I asked if she feels any better and she asked who I was again. "Just a random asshole."

"Oh no baby, you're not an asshole. What do you want me to do baby?"

"Huh?!?" I replied.

"what do you want me to do? Get in your car?"

Now I know what your thinking, but the reality is, best case scenario, she only pukes in my car once and I leave her there as my friend and I drink the six pack and then I have to drive her back to the bar and leave her face down on her hood.

Luckily the bassist of the pretty shitty band that played walked up and asked her how she was doing and if she remembered he had her keys.

I patted him on the back, wished him luck and drove home.

While I lay in bed tonight/this morning, what ever you want to call it, I'll be thinking more of how I wish I had a baseball bat to beat the fat broad and the White Trash Superstar with. really I'd have only needed it for the fat chick. Mr. Superstar was wide open for a punch in the throat to shut him up. I'da had to go through 4-5 chins to reach fatty's throat.

How was your night?