Tale From The Streets

The French have never really been known for their toughness, or willingness to fight. History of the past eighty years or so has shown us that. Yeah I know, Napoleon back in the day, blah blah blah, they tore a lot of countries some new assholes. But that was before tanks and the German Blitzkrieg that sent the French packing. And yes, I am aware that I am belittling my own heritage by writing this. But from what I've seen so far, the French cannot fight for shit. The country is full of lots of loud mouths who yap and yap, but when it really comes down to it and you confront them, they generally fuck off. These people who usually start these little scuffles are most likely wearing fucking track suits, coupled with street-soccer shoes. I don't really understand their hair style choices either. Heads shaved around the sides with the party on top. Kind of like Vanilla Ice. And we all know how rough he was.


Last night I was out bar-hopping with some friends, and was privileged enough to watch these guys in action. It doesn't matter what the fight was over, it was what occurred during the bout that mattered. I barely saw one punch thrown, and when one was thrown, it looked like more like a slap than anything. Half-fists flying down on heads from above, crooked wrists, people backing away, and running around in circles. It was as if the main objective of the fight was to simply avoid the other person as much as possible, and to see who could look like the biggest fairy. Not to mention that I saw at least four attempts at soccer-style kicks to the head, none of which connected, and usually resulted in the kicker falling on his ass. After witnessing such a display, I am going to find it even more difficult to take any of these ass-clowns seriously. Really the only thing they have going for them is that they all travel in packs. This is the only time they yell random things at passer-by's. And when they're alone...well, they're as quiet as a church.