lokiju
Lifer
- May 29, 2003
- 18,526
- 5
- 0
DrPizza
Administrator Elite Member Goat Whisperer
Actually, if it breaks, it's less severe for the thing being impacted than if it doesn't break. i.e. when a major leaguer breaks his bat hitting a ball, the ball doesn't sail into the next county. Regardless, shens on a bat being broken on the back of the head. Even at that amount of force, he'd be knocked unconscious. Darn it! You tricked me into replying in a ZJ thread.
- Oct 10, 1999
- 31,337
- 12,841
- 136
there are only 2 ways this went down:
1. drug buy gone wrong. Zane tried to jack him out of dope and got a smackdown for his stupidity.
2. racing a corvette at 150 mph and lost. Instead of paying up the money he owed, he tried to weasel out and got a beatdown for his stupidity.
either way, no one should believe a word he says.
1. drug buy gone wrong. Zane tried to jack him out of dope and got a smackdown for his stupidity.
2. racing a corvette at 150 mph and lost. Instead of paying up the money he owed, he tried to weasel out and got a beatdown for his stupidity.
either way, no one should believe a word he says.
Born2bwire
Diamond Member
- Oct 28, 2005
- 9,840
- 6
- 71
dennilfloss
Past Lifer 1957-2014 In Memoriam
Sounds like you got what you deserved. You followed a person and then got out of the car and tried to walk up on him. He whipped your ass in self defense. Stalking someone and posing a credible threat IS a crime.
Awesome how your druggy ass story doesn't match up to what the police report. You got a sound beating and you're making it sound like you kicked his ass...lol
What a fucking loser.
Awesome how your druggy ass story doesn't match up to what the police report. You got a sound beating and you're making it sound like you kicked his ass...lol
What a fucking loser.
Dude Zane, are you doing meth now instead of heroin? It's not staying clean if you just swap one for the other.
Wow. If I knee someone 5 times in the face they better be unconscious. Not even adding in the punches.
If true, that's unfortunate. But, you should really re-read the article before making up your own story.
Or at least a broken nose, broken orbits around the eyes, broken teeth.....most of which would have "kept" the guy from running off so easily.....
Methinks the story was embellished quite a bit, not surprisingly given the source.....
Still doing stupid shit Zane? What if he had a gun instead of a bat? Do you forget you have a child, or do you really want her to grow up without a father? Considering the example you are giving she might be better off without your influence.
why'd you have to get out of the car and play tough guy role?
be the bigger man and just walk away.
ZANE! I missed you buddy! How's your head?
My flight back from California on the 18th was pleasant, thanks for asking. It was definitely easier getting through security without a baseball bat.
Though the first time through security went smoothly after I explained to the guys the reason for bringing the bat. After a few hearty laughs and a pat on the back they let me through and said "go get 'em tiger!".
A bonus is that they forgot to check me for bottles of liquid, so I got to take my favorite shampoo with me!
I figured you couldn't resist the temptation to race a corvette, so I passed on the Ford Lightning truck at the rental place. My first choice was a tricked out civic, but Juan's rent-a-whip was closed
due to renovations. Once again I was pleasantly surprised by the kind treatment I received at the rental place after I explained my story. I'm starting to get the impression the American public is
a big fan of vigilante justice.
As for your report to the police, I'm not sure how accurate that is. Generally your account of the incident it is correct, but the details are a little sketchy. That is probably due to a combination of blunt force trauma and your typical drug enduced haze. I'll take a minute to clear it up for you...
After searching around the area for a while I finally found what I thought was you. I spotted an Accord whipping through traffic and racing everybody who happened to be next to it at the stoplight.
On a side note, you really tore up that 78yr old woman in her Dodge Shadow! I suppose the hole in her muffler made the car sound like it had an exhaust kit on it, a sure sign of a potential challenger.
So after a couple miles I finally got the chance to pull up next to you at a red light. Looking over I saw a squirrelly little white kid with a baseball cap on sideways, sitting real low in the seat with one hand on the steering wheel while bobbing his head listening to some bad club techno trance. A harder look at you face I noticed it was all gaunt and pock-marked like the typical post-tweak meth head. At that moment I knew I had my man. As fate would have it you just happened to look over at that exact moment, and we locked eyes for a moment. I saw in your eyes that the situation went directly to "it's on", do not pass "you got served", do not collect $200.
As expected you readjusted your ass in that stock honda seat and revved up your engine. Boy did that H22A sing! It was like an angry swarm of african bees on steroids, until of course it backfired and every loose panel on the car rattled like a marble factory in an earthquake. Was that a red top or blue top H22A? I couldn't tell, but hey, either can you right? So after a few rounds of ear piercing engine revving the light finally turned green and you stepped on it. The car kinda lurched forward violently before the tires started squeeling, I figured you couldn't work the clutch, or it was kinda burnt out from slipping it during your hardcore racing sessions. I let you get a slight lead before I got on the gas and blew past you. The look on your face when I passed you was priceless! It was like you just found out your buddy sold you caffeine pills instead of hydrocone.
The next light turned red and I thought to myself "this really is my day". At the next light you were rather upset, screaming obscenities, waving your arms around violently (I figured you were just tweaking on meth), and revving your engine. That last rev apparently made something fall off of your car and hit the front fender on mine. I opened the door and peeked out to see if there were any scratches, because the rental place frowns on that. At that point you really lost it and screamed "its on now motherfucker, Im goign to kill you!". That wasn't part of my plan, and I didn't know if you had a gun or something (tweakers can be scary). So I drove off and headed towards the Wal-Mart at the next light, I had to pick up some socks because I forgot them in my luggage packing haste. I guess you took that as an invitation to "throw down" as you so eloquently put it.
In the parking lot I found a spot and collected personal items to go into the store. Looking over I saw you right at my window, shouting "lets fucking do this BRO!", then you slammed your hand on the window (and winced in pain I might add). I knew this was the time to do the deed. So I got out of the car and you immediately shut up and started walking away saying "whatever BRO, your vette is fucking slow BRO".
I hesistated for a moment due to my conscience kicking in and saying "comon, this guy has a wife and kid and his life is bad enough as it is". Quickly that better judgement subsided and I took a one handed swipe at your head with the bat. It wasn't nearly as hard as I wanted, but I felt bad for you. Almost immediately you had a heart to heart with the asphalt. After 30 seconds or so you got up and stumbled around, mumbling something about pills, H22A's and printer cartridges. My mission being accomplished I put the bat away and walked into the store. Apparently you were "undaunted" and stumbled in my general direction shouting more obscenities. I ignored it and did my shopping. When I came out you were still there, though sitting on the asphalt and crying while trying to use your cell phone. You looked up, spotted me and started trying to run away while saying "Im sorry BRO, dont hit me BRO, please man BRO MAN, dude fuck man, leave me alone". It was hard to make out with all that sniffling and crying.
I called the police and waited for them to come. They came and took my account of the incident. The officers were rather amused and said that it sounded like self defence to them. I'm not sure what you told them, but I gather it wasn't very coherant due to you being hit with a bat and high on pills. The officers gave me some high 5's and told me to be my way because they had to search your car for drugs. So I left. Sadly I noticed that my bat was cracked near the handle. So I went to the nearest park, held a short memorial service and buried it.
I really liked that bat.
I felt kinda guilty after that so before dropping the car off at the rental place I went to a church to confess my sins and ask for god's forgiveness. Luckily the father was in and the confession booth was empty. So I confessed to the man of god. After about 20 seconds of hysterical laughing and snorting the father suggested I say a hail mary or two, but claimed it probably wasn't necessary due to me being pious enough to take god's work upon my shoulders. That made me realize the catholic god is a very vindictive diety and he hates hondas.
Now I'm home, minus my favorite bat, but plus god's blessing. I hope your head gets better, not like you use it much, but still.
:heart:
My flight back from California on the 18th was pleasant, thanks for asking. It was definitely easier getting through security without a baseball bat.
Though the first time through security went smoothly after I explained to the guys the reason for bringing the bat. After a few hearty laughs and a pat on the back they let me through and said "go get 'em tiger!".
A bonus is that they forgot to check me for bottles of liquid, so I got to take my favorite shampoo with me!
I figured you couldn't resist the temptation to race a corvette, so I passed on the Ford Lightning truck at the rental place. My first choice was a tricked out civic, but Juan's rent-a-whip was closed
due to renovations. Once again I was pleasantly surprised by the kind treatment I received at the rental place after I explained my story. I'm starting to get the impression the American public is
a big fan of vigilante justice.
As for your report to the police, I'm not sure how accurate that is. Generally your account of the incident it is correct, but the details are a little sketchy. That is probably due to a combination of blunt force trauma and your typical drug enduced haze. I'll take a minute to clear it up for you...
After searching around the area for a while I finally found what I thought was you. I spotted an Accord whipping through traffic and racing everybody who happened to be next to it at the stoplight.
On a side note, you really tore up that 78yr old woman in her Dodge Shadow! I suppose the hole in her muffler made the car sound like it had an exhaust kit on it, a sure sign of a potential challenger.
So after a couple miles I finally got the chance to pull up next to you at a red light. Looking over I saw a squirrelly little white kid with a baseball cap on sideways, sitting real low in the seat with one hand on the steering wheel while bobbing his head listening to some bad club techno trance. A harder look at you face I noticed it was all gaunt and pock-marked like the typical post-tweak meth head. At that moment I knew I had my man. As fate would have it you just happened to look over at that exact moment, and we locked eyes for a moment. I saw in your eyes that the situation went directly to "it's on", do not pass "you got served", do not collect $200.
As expected you readjusted your ass in that stock honda seat and revved up your engine. Boy did that H22A sing! It was like an angry swarm of african bees on steroids, until of course it backfired and every loose panel on the car rattled like a marble factory in an earthquake. Was that a red top or blue top H22A? I couldn't tell, but hey, either can you right? So after a few rounds of ear piercing engine revving the light finally turned green and you stepped on it. The car kinda lurched forward violently before the tires started squeeling, I figured you couldn't work the clutch, or it was kinda burnt out from slipping it during your hardcore racing sessions. I let you get a slight lead before I got on the gas and blew past you. The look on your face when I passed you was priceless! It was like you just found out your buddy sold you caffeine pills instead of hydrocone.
The next light turned red and I thought to myself "this really is my day". At the next light you were rather upset, screaming obscenities, waving your arms around violently (I figured you were just tweaking on meth), and revving your engine. That last rev apparently made something fall off of your car and hit the front fender on mine. I opened the door and peeked out to see if there were any scratches, because the rental place frowns on that. At that point you really lost it and screamed "its on now motherfucker, Im goign to kill you!". That wasn't part of my plan, and I didn't know if you had a gun or something (tweakers can be scary). So I drove off and headed towards the Wal-Mart at the next light, I had to pick up some socks because I forgot them in my luggage packing haste. I guess you took that as an invitation to "throw down" as you so eloquently put it.
In the parking lot I found a spot and collected personal items to go into the store. Looking over I saw you right at my window, shouting "lets fucking do this BRO!", then you slammed your hand on the window (and winced in pain I might add). I knew this was the time to do the deed. So I got out of the car and you immediately shut up and started walking away saying "whatever BRO, your vette is fucking slow BRO".
I hesistated for a moment due to my conscience kicking in and saying "comon, this guy has a wife and kid and his life is bad enough as it is". Quickly that better judgement subsided and I took a one handed swipe at your head with the bat. It wasn't nearly as hard as I wanted, but I felt bad for you. Almost immediately you had a heart to heart with the asphalt. After 30 seconds or so you got up and stumbled around, mumbling something about pills, H22A's and printer cartridges. My mission being accomplished I put the bat away and walked into the store. Apparently you were "undaunted" and stumbled in my general direction shouting more obscenities. I ignored it and did my shopping. When I came out you were still there, though sitting on the asphalt and crying while trying to use your cell phone. You looked up, spotted me and started trying to run away while saying "Im sorry BRO, dont hit me BRO, please man BRO MAN, dude fuck man, leave me alone". It was hard to make out with all that sniffling and crying.
I called the police and waited for them to come. They came and took my account of the incident. The officers were rather amused and said that it sounded like self defence to them. I'm not sure what you told them, but I gather it wasn't very coherant due to you being hit with a bat and high on pills. The officers gave me some high 5's and told me to be my way because they had to search your car for drugs. So I left. Sadly I noticed that my bat was cracked near the handle. So I went to the nearest park, held a short memorial service and buried it.
I really liked that bat.I felt kinda guilty after that so before dropping the car off at the rental place I went to a church to confess my sins and ask for god's forgiveness. Luckily the father was in and the confession booth was empty. So I confessed to the man of god. After about 20 seconds of hysterical laughing and snorting the father suggested I say a hail mary or two, but claimed it probably wasn't necessary due to me being pious enough to take god's work upon my shoulders. That made me realize the catholic god is a very vindictive diety and he hates hondas.
Now I'm home, minus my favorite bat, but plus god's blessing. I hope your head gets better, not like you use it much, but still.
:heart:
Ns1
No Lifer
- Jun 17, 2001
- 55,420
- 1,600
- 126
Originally posted by: SampSon
ZANE! I missed you buddy! How's your head?
My flight back from California on the 18th was pleasant, thanks for asking. It was definitely easier getting through security without a baseball bat.
Though the first time through security went smoothly after I explained to the guys the reason for bringing the bat. After a few hearty laughs and a pat on the back they let me through and said "go get 'em tiger!".
A bonus is that they forgot to check me for bottles of liquid, so I got to take my favorite shampoo with me!
I figured you couldn't resist the temptation to race a corvette, so I passed on the Ford Lightning truck at the rental place. My first choice was a tricked out civic, but Juan's rent-a-whip was closed
due to renovations. Once again I was pleasantly surprised by the kind treatment I received at the rental place after I explained my story. I'm starting to get the impression the American public is
a big fan of vigilante justice.
As for your report to the police, I'm not sure how accurate that is. Generally your account of the incident it is correct, but the details are a little sketchy. That is probably due to a combination of blunt force trauma and your typical drug enduced haze. I'll take a minute to clear it up for you...
After searching around the area for a while I finally found what I thought was you. I spotted an Accord whipping through traffic and racing everybody who happened to be next to it at the stoplight.
On a side note, you really tore up that 78yr old woman in her Dodge Shadow! I suppose the hole in her muffler made the car sound like it had an exhaust kit on it, a sure sign of a potential challenger.
So after a couple miles I finally got the chance to pull up next to you at a red light. Looking over I saw a squirrelly little white kid with a baseball cap on sideways, sitting real low in the seat with one hand on the steering wheel while bobbing his head listening to some bad club techno trance. A harder look at you face I noticed it was all gaunt and pock-marked like the typical post-tweak meth head. At that moment I knew I had my man. As fate would have it you just happened to look over at that exact moment, and we locked eyes for a moment. I saw in your eyes that the situation went directly to "it's on", do not pass "you got served", do not collect $200.
As expected you readjusted your ass in that stock honda seat and revved up your engine. Boy did that H22A sing! It was like an angry swarm of african bees on steroids, until of course it backfired and every loose panel on the car rattled like a marble factory in an earthquake. Was that a red top or blue top H22A? I couldn't tell, but hey, either can you right? So after a few rounds of ear piercing engine revving the light finally turned green and you stepped on it. The car kinda lurched forward violently before the tires started squeeling, I figured you couldn't work the clutch, or it was kinda burnt out from slipping it during your hardcore racing sessions. I let you get a slight lead before I got on the gas and blew past you. The look on your face when I passed you was priceless! It was like you just found out your buddy sold you caffeine pills instead of hydrocone.
The next light turned red and I thought to myself "this really is my day". At the next light you were rather upset, screaming obscenities, waving your arms around violently (I figured you were just tweaking on meth), and revving your engine. That last rev apparently made something fall off of your car and hit the front fender on mine. I opened the door and peeked out to see if there were any scratches, because the rental place frowns on that. At that point you really lost it and screamed "its on now motherfucker, Im goign to kill you!". That wasn't part of my plan, and I didn't know if you had a gun or something (tweakers can be scary). So I drove off and headed towards the Wal-Mart at the next light, I had to pick up some socks because I forgot them in my luggage packing haste. I guess you took that as an invitation to "throw down" as you so eloquently put it.
In the parking lot I found a spot and collected personal items to go into the store. Looking over I saw you right at my window, shouting "lets fucking do this BRO!", then you slammed your hand on the window (and winced in pain I might add). I knew this was the time to do the deed. So I got out of the car and you immediately shut up and started walking away saying "whatever BRO, your vette is fucking slow BRO".
I hesistated for a moment due to my conscience kicking in and saying "comon, this guy has a wife and kid and his life is bad enough as it is". Quickly that better judgement subsided and I took a one handed swipe at your head with the bat. It wasn't nearly as hard as I wanted, but I felt bad for you. Almost immediately you had a heart to heart with the asphalt. After 30 seconds or so you got up and stumbled around, mumbling something about pills, H22A's and printer cartridges. My mission being accomplished I put the bat away and walked into the store. Apparently you were "undaunted" and stumbled in my general direction shouting more obscenities. I ignored it and did my shopping. When I came out you were still there, though sitting on the asphalt and crying while trying to use your cell phone. You looked up, spotted me and started trying to run away while saying "Im sorry BRO, dont hit me BRO, please man BRO MAN, dude fuck man, leave me alone". It was hard to make out with all that sniffling and crying.
I called the police and waited for them to come. They came and took my account of the incident. The officers were rather amused and said that it sounded like self defence to them. I'm not sure what you told them, but I gather it wasn't very coherant due to you being hit with a bat and high on pills. The officers gave me some high 5's and told me to be my way because they had to search your car for drugs. So I left. Sadly I noticed that my bat was cracked near the handle. So I went to the nearest park, held a short memorial service and buried it.
I felt kinda guilty after that so before dropping the car off at the rental place I went to a church to confess my sins and ask for god's forgiveness. Luckily the father was in and the confession booth was empty. So I confessed to the man of god. After about 20 seconds of hysterical laughing and snorting the father suggested I say a hail mary or two, but claimed it probably wasn't necessary due to me being pious enough to take god's work upon my shoulders. That made me realize the catholic god is a very vindictive diety and he hates hondas.
Now I'm home, minus my favorite bat, but plus god's blessing. I hope your head gets better, not like you use it much, but still.
:heart:
You are my hero <3
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