Marty Gallagher’s Purposefully Primitive Fitness

Boys will be boys

Written on 11 May 2005 by Marty Gallagher

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I got a call from one of my deep background sources the other day and about ten minutes into the conversation Mongo as well label him, let slip that hed been involved in physical violence the previous day. I had to get into a fight yesterday. Really? Yeah, once again, this guy thought he was bad and felt he had to demonstrate this to Brandy. Whos Brandy? Oh, she was the stripper we were sitting with. This guy thought he was a great boxer. So many questions were suddenly answered. So Mongo, what exactly happened? It was all very dramatic once hed decided it was on. He stood up and flung that little table that you sit at right out of the way, my beer went flyingnot cool. Then he drops into a pretty little Sugar Ray Leonard boxing stance and the second I stand up he launches a right cross at my jaw. Whatd you do? I grabbed his ass. I got hold of one of his hands and jus reeled him in like he was a marlin. He hit like a girl. Zero power. It was like hit me! Yawn. This was in the middle of a strip club? Well not the middle but up against one wall. Did you hit him? No. I didnt need to. I crushed the dog piss out of him. He might have broken ribs. I quit squeezing the moment I heard the snapping sound. Good God! Where were the bouncers while this is happening? Its dark and music was blasting Freebird and this happens real fast and I was there as a guest of the owner and I train with one of the bouncers.

So when they showed up I had the situation in hand. I had Sugar Ray in a headlock squealing like Ned Beatty in Deliverance, the bouncers were like, hey mongo do you want us to help you kick this guys ass! So what happened? So I let the guy go and he starts with the mouth, You wont fight me like a man! If you fought me like a man Id kick your ass. Meaning what? Oh, he wanted me to box him. Like Marquis of Queensberry or something. He gets himself so worked up he takes another shot at me and this time hits me in the eye! Pow! A second time? Yes! I said, you son of a bitch! thats when I think I broke his ribs. Then what? Now I have him in a sideways bear hug and hes like a broken rag doll. My face is right next to his so while Im crushing the life out of him Im talking to him. Oh great. Were you giving him stock market tips? No actually I was telling him if we were in a private home instead of a public establishment I might do bad and perverse things to him. He finally got the message. Well thats good. Alls well that ends well. Something like that.

The moral of this Aesop Fable is when you find yourself drinking beer with a silverback gorilla; dont poke a sharp stick in his eye.