OK. Grog here. I’m definitely feeling… good.

Tonight was a close friend’s birthday party. We went to dinner at Kobe’s [shit’s expensive, but fucking AMAZING] and then out for some delicious craft beer at World of Beer

Tonight, in my bright pink jumper and high heels, I seemed to be a magnet for creeps. Like, legitimate creepos.

Men are like peacocks. When they spot a female, they spread their wings out and flaunt their feathers, desperate for attention.

One guy seemed intent on shoving his feathers right under my eyeballs – and keeping them there ALL NIGHT.

A total slimeball approached our table – of 8 people at World of Beer – and he wouldn’t leave. He was wasted before he even walked over, barely able to stand. Rather than make small talk… he basically started an argument [about sports, of all things] the second he walked up. When I politely [I was only 2 drinks in, mind you] disgreed, he GRABBED MY FUCKING ARM.


You don’t touch someone you don’t know.

You really don’t touch someone who is married to a 6’4″, 215 lb Mexican man.

What the FUCK were you thinkng?

I tried to play nice. This guy was shit-faced, talking about UCF vs. FSU vs. UF. He was shit-talking practically every Florida team. He was so wasted, he didn’t know his ASS from his elbow. Seriously. I was honestly surprised he was standing.

I’m a UCF grad that follows UF, but I’m pretty open about sports. Fuck, I’m a girl. I’m impressed that I keep up with sports. This guy should have been equally floored by my knowledge of the game.

Unfortunately, he was not. He was PISSED that I was a UF fan.

He was an FSU fan. That attends UCF. That is 31 and has 130 credit hours that he’s been working on since he was 18 and hasn’t graduated.

Yeah…. this guy was a definite winner.

So, needless to say, he’s probably 10-12 drinks deep, totally wasted, and becomes argumentative with me and several guys at the table.

Then… he grabs my arm.



You do NOT touch this lady. I may be petite. I may be fucking blonde. But you do NOT TOUCH THIS GIRL.


A punch from me, right into the shoulder.



A punch from my husbamd, right into this guy’s nose.

My husband is NOT a fighter. He and I both agree that violence is not the answer. However, if you GRAB A GIRL’S ARM – your ass is grass, dude.

So… yeah.

A calm night out turned into a broken nose for an FSU fan and wannabe-graduate of UCF.

I’m not a violent person. I don’t like seeing people hurt. However, sometimes, it’s nice to see a peacock deplumed (sp?) once in a while, you know?

Shitting rainbows and farting sunshine, people 🙂

~ Grog

P.S. Our waitress felt so bad about the shit-head that she bought us a round of beer. Meanwhile, bloody-nose stood outside with his friends, waiting for the cops to show up…and arrest him for disorderly conduct! Bwahahaha. Sometimes karma DOES work out.