Back in the Summer of ‘69 I got into a fight with a girl. I wouldn’t say I’m proud of it, but it was pretty awesome. Right when she thought she had me, I headbutted her. Knocked her out cold. Her Mom came over and started hitting me with a broom just as I was about to start pissing on her daughter’s stiff teenage frame. She was right to do it.
What else happened that year? Oh yeah, I was going through a McDonald’s drive thru and saw a crab sitting on the edge of a garbage can. The crab was trying to remain as still as possible lest I find him and eat him, but he wasn’t fooling me. I grabbed a pair of nail clippers from the glove compartment and threw them. Hit the crab right near where his ear would be if a crab had ears. It turned out it wasn’t a crab but a brown paper bag with a dirty napkin sticking out of it. In the end we all realized the exhaust pipe in my ‘65 Chevelle had a massive leak. Doctors said the prolonged exposure to carbon monoxide took 10 years off my life, so I punched the doctors out and then pissed on them.
Later that year in the Winter of ‘69 I was just getting released from jail. While in jail I got pretty depressed because none of my cellmates tried to rape me. I saw my good buds Rot Crotch McIntyre and No Nose Steve get repeatedly invaded without mercy, but I didn’t get so much as a toe stuck in me. I came to the conclusion that even inmates have standards. I sunk into a deep depression a few weeks after they let me out. A depression that culminated in me dressing up as a mentally impaired Wonder Woman and drinking Drano on New Year’s Eve. Some would say it was the best New Year’s Eve ever, but I can’t say that because it really, really hurt.