Somebody was telling me about this today, and I just had to write about it, since somebody else did the same thing a few years ago.

Confused?

Well let me explain.

Someone was telling me about a conversation they’d had with a third person… Ok, this is going to get complicated… Let me do a little smilification to simplify matters. (It’s a real word if I say it’s a real word… Ok?!?!?!)

The person I was talking to will hereto be referred to as :curtsey: and the person she was having the conversation with was the mother of the second person I’m discussing, who will be referred to as :cheer3:

With me so far?

Good.

So :curtsey: had been having a conversation with :cheer3: or rather with his mother. :cheer3: used to live around here, but moved south a few years back and has recently come back up north.

While he was away he spent a couple of years learning kick boxing.

Nothing special about that, right?

Well apparently :cheer3: had told his mother that he ould need to get himself to the police station to register, since he’s been back for a while and still hasn’t registered himself.

*perks ears up*

He’s got himself in trouble and has to keep in contact with the police…? :batter:

Oh be still my beating :bestill: You see, I knew this guy when he used to live here, and he was one of those annoying people who could just do no wrong. Everyone doted on him, everyone thought he was perfect… So the idea of him managing to get himself into trouble… It kind of appealed to me on a cruel heartless and evil level. :asbestos:

No such luck!

He told his mother that he had to register himself at the police station as a deadly weapon because of his martial arts training.

:barf:

Now whether or not you actually do have to do anything like that, I don’t know, but there’s something so arrogant and boastful about discussing it with people and bragging about it.

Not to mention the fact that from what I can gather his time away was spent working, drinking and womanising, and if his body is his temple, giving the crumbling and decaying ruins of his body that returned home, I’m not convinced that he was much of a danger to anything except the contents of his biscuit barrel!

Needless to say, when I was told this tale, my eyes rolled so far back into my head I could see the back of my skull!

I had someone I worked with tell me something similar a few years back… I think it was designed to impress us all with his fighting skill and the fact that if he put his hands in his pockets he was technically carrying concealed weapons… (Yes he actually did say that!). That followed by how tough and dangerous he was and how we should be careful around him so as not to make him lose his temper… Since he was so dangerous.

It was quite satisfying to hear one of the girls there at the time turn around, look him up and down and tell him that she’d happily bitch-slap him upside the face, then we could all see just how tough he really was. =))

He’d have been on his hands and knees begging her to stop before she’d even lifted her arm up!

Not quite the reaction I think he’s been looking for, but it proves that I’m not the only one who gets the sudden urge to smack the person in the face with a large kipper!