Drinking, Fighting, Fucking and Crying Title

Drinking, Fighting, F*&king, and Crying

Steak KnifeTwo weeks ago I related the story of meeting Nichola, the sexy Irish blonde who, in the fall of 2001, was to be my first one night stand. Well, she didn’t actually end up being a one night stand – I was never very good at that sort of thing, as the subsequent tale I told of flying to Dublin to meet back up with her demonstrates. The second part of that tale is coming in two weeks, in the meantime however, I realized to give a better understanding of her character, I should go a bit further into the night we met.

Drinking, Fighting, Fucking and Crying Title

Drinking, Fighting, F*&king, and Crying

83208899Never having been that much of a fighter myself, one of the eventual problems with this column is, unless I go out and start picking new fights, I’m going to run out of events to relate here, at least in the “Fighting” column. I still have at least two really good stories from my own life that I want to include here, however one of those is rather involved, and the other requires me to scrape together audio from a cassette tape, convert it to digital, and then upload it to youtube. So, in the interim (and because I’m still working on a writing deadline and carrying the weight of my day job so, you know, time) I thought I’d devote a column to what is, in my opinion, possibly the best fight scene in a movie ever.

Drinking, Fighting, Fucking and Crying Title

Drinking, Fighting, F*&king, and Crying

whelans (1)In January 2002, Joup’s Joe Grez and I, along with Joe’s cousin Tony, went to Dublin. Both Grez and Tony were experienced travelers, but this was my first trip out of the US. The reason for our destination, and a rather urgent first foray into traveling for me, was several months prior I had fallen hard for a gorgeous blonde girl who, two nights after I met her, moved back to Drumcondra, Ireland. Ah, Nichola, such a fair lass… who almost proved to be the death of me in the short time I knew her. We hit it hard in those two days, no explicit pun intended, and when she left for home I stayed in contact with her via the internet – then a fledgling experience for me.

Drinking, Fighting, Fucking and Crying Title

Drinking, Fighting, F*&king, and Crying

a-clockwork-orangeThis is less overt, so bear with me.

In 1993, the Autumn as I transitioned into my Senior year in High School, I learned that a good friend of mine had killed a young girl in the forest preserves that surround the area where I grew up. This was insane, but what was more insane was the way this information came to me; out on bail for nearly a year, this friend had all of our group naively believing that he was innocent. I’ll spare you the whys and wherefores of our erroneous logic, and simply boil it down to the fact that we were young and trusting, and the deed had occurred after a party in the aforementioned forest preserves. A party where many of the shady A.F. people that hung around those woods were present. With all these variables, it seemed at the time that there was enough reasonable doubt for us to believe our friend had been framed.

Drinking, Fighting, Fucking and Crying Title

Drinking, Fighting, F*&king, and Crying

Mirror ConspRemember my little ode to Sade a few months back? Originally, my idea for that one was to simply embed the song – really any Sade song will do – and type, “It works.” I figured if there was ever a ‘Nuff Said moment outside a Marvel comic book, that was it. Well, that particular column and idea were actually originally conceived for this band, and specifically this song, from this album.

Drinking, Fighting, Fucking and Crying Title

Drinking, Fighting, F*&king, and Crying

Pit NinjaFile this one under: Ninja Fail.

Way back when Type O Negative’s second album, October Rust came out, they toured through Chicago a lot. And I think I went to see them every time. That’s how much I loved that band – still do. One of the shows I remember best was Type O and Life of Agony at Chicago’s Vic Theatre. It was a great show, Peter Steele in fine form as usual, a constantly likeable front man who both intimidated and amused the crowd. On this tour, the band mostly played tracks from October Rust and Bloody Kisses, tapping into only two songs from their debut album, Slow, Deep and Hard. Great show. But we’re not really here to talk about Type O Negative. We’re here to talk about fighting.

Drinking, Fighting, Fucking and Crying Title

Drinking, Fighting, F*&king, and Crying

Leave your hat onI was never able to go in for much of the one night stand kind of thing. If I dug a girl enough to sleep with her, well, I’d like her to hang around a bit and see what happens. That said, I also got burned a few times, and this helped me to relax my teenage years’ overt neediness when it came to forging relationships with later in life. By my late 20s I was pretty comfortable with who I was, and despite a dry spell that lasted an insanely long amount of time at the turn of the century, this newfound personal ease led to a series of ‘friends with benefits’ situations, all of which coalesced into a bit of a mess while I was a bartender, indulging in a little bit more of the ‘night life’ than what I had previously been used to.

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