Viewport width =
May 5, 2008 | by  | in Opinion |
Share on FacebookShare on Google+Pin on PinterestTweet about this on Twitter

Violence: the stupidest of all art forms

This is an edited/sexed up version of an actual event. A large
Wellington College graduate walked past me outside of bar.
“emo” he said
“oh mind your bleeding own you two bit cunt” I responded
“What did you say, I‘ll fuck you up ow” clearly my quoting
The Libertines was lost on him
“you‘re all talk Mcevedy” I thought I would lower the
discourse to his level and try to bring up probably his only
call to fame, being at a school that once won a trophy (and
is synonymous with homoerotism and yobbo behaviour but
I thought it would be inappropriate to remind him of those
unfortunate times with the broom handle he must have
“what” clearly I failed
“very eloquent, got anymore gems you fucking moron” this
was my attempt at trying to prompt him into joining the
conversation more actively
“you‘re a gay” while this may have been his honest opinion I
found this somewhat bizarre seeming I had two women with
me while he had only males
“no I‘m a hedonist, are we going to fight or what” I thought the
distinction needed to be made and then hoped we would get to
the fi ght we were building up to
“what’s you‘re fucking problem man” I wasn’t sure if this was
an appropriate venue to discuss my insanity
“that’s a deep question, what’s anyone’s problem, maybe I just
want to watch you bleed” again trying to speed things up and
get to the fisticuffs I wished to engage in
“whatever, fuck this emo he‘s not worth the bash” his posse
and him began to walk away
“Oh who is the fag now” while I didn’t think he was a
homosexual (or if he was he was clearly in the closet) I was
getting impatient
“fuck” he charged towards me, about to swing with his right
“oh your not going to do it” I didn’t believe this but said it for
“yeah” this was confusing as I wasn’t sure whether he was
agreeing or not
“Bolivia” using my patented surrealist psych out technique
“what” clearly it worked
“Trapped in cabinets, Trapped in cabinets, can he get out, can
he get out, of course he can” seeming my psych out worked so
well I decided to break into a crimp
“I‘ll kick your ass”
“but you haven‘t done anything”
He proceeded to get up in my face
“hah” I was out of clever dialogue
He then tried to punch me in the chest and ran away, my blood
lust went unquenched for another night.

Share on FacebookShare on Google+Pin on PinterestTweet about this on Twitter

About the Author ()

Comments are closed.

Recent posts

  1. There’s a New Editor
  2. An (im)possible dream: Living Wage for Vic Books
  3. Salient and VUW tussle over Official Information Act requests
  4. One Ocean
  5. Orphanage voluntourism a harmful exercise
  6. Interview with Grayson Gilmour
  7. Political Round Up
  8. A Town Like Alice — Nevil Shute
  9. Presidential Address
  10. Do You Ever Feel Like a Plastic Bag?

Editor's Pick

In Which a Boy Leaves

: - SPONSORED - I’ve always been a fairly lucky kid. I essentially lucked out at birth, being born white, male, heterosexual, to a well off family. My life was never going to be particularly hard. And so my tale begins, with another stroke of sheer luck. After my girlfriend sugge