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Ernie's House of Whoopass! February 3, 2017

February 3, 2017

ISIS can't stand up to Sweet Home Alabama.

"So a little background. I work at a bar in a college town. The dancefloor is outside, and the entrance leads to an inside part. The university is famous because it has a large percentage of foreign students. I've backpacked through Europe and I have a lot of foreign friends, so I think it's fantastic. Mostly because a lot of them are 6 foot 8 Swiss volleyball girls that like to get drunk and dance promiscuously on the stage, but I digress. Well recently at the bar we have been having a large group of fellas who happen to dislike America coming in. From what I have gathered watching them for several weeks throughout the night, these guys like to flex their wealth and so called superiority more than anyone. They spend hundreds at the bar every night and tend to get pretty rowdy near the end of the night. That happens with a lot of people, so it doesn't bother me usually. But these assholes like to run their mouths about how much they hate America and how ISIS will win after they get drunk and they end up starting shit. I'm not looking to get stabbed in a bar, so I don't appreciate that. I'm not gonna throw them out for that though, freedom of speech is the definition of America no matter how much I disagree with what they are saying. They can write their own death warrant in front of all these rednecks if they want to.

I usually have to throw a few of them out when they come while they scream unintelligibly at me and tell me how they will whoop my ass and kill me. Normal family fun. They never resist me when I am kicking them out though, I usually just have to push them with one hand and they leave. Pussies. Not last night.

Well this weekend, everyone from my town is celebrating Mardi Gras in New Orleans, so the bar was not nearly as packed as it usually is. These aformentioned group of guys came in in about a group of 10. There were no football players, or fraternity guys there that night, so they were the big ballers even more than they usually think they are.

At about 1:15 two of these dudes start pushing each other and yelling at each other pretty violently. I jump off of the stage and rip them apart from each other. Well the taller of the pair(Who will be known as AF for Ass Face) wore his big boy pants that night because he yelled "Fuck You you American Fuck!" and took a swing at me. He was pretty drunk and all I had to do was lean back a little to make him miss. I immediately put him in a headlock, as I usually do. Well. His posse doesn't like this. They don't like this at all, and they're all really drunk. So they start to circle up around me. This doesn't pose a huge problem because I'm a big dude, and they are not. I push through them as I'm getting yelled at in what I was told was Urdu, and get AF inside.

Well working the door inside is my coworker D-Wreck. D-Wreck is a good ole boy from Alabama. D-Wreck is very pro-violence. Well I get AF inside and the bar starts clapping. "You outta here mother fucker!" "You fucked up now!" My boss sees me coming and throws open the double doors so I can throw this dude outside. Leading up to the bar we have a ramp with guardrails on it. This will become relevant soon. Well as soon as I push AF out the doors he turns on me 0 to 100 nigga real quick. Now it would be no problem for me to handle this asshole, but D-Wreck had different plans.

I heard him before I saw him. There was a bald eagle screech in the distance, and I could hear Skynyrd playing in the air. D-Wreck comes barreling out of the crowd and clotheslines AF over the ramp railing like the WWE Royal Rumble. AF did a flip and landed straight on his back, knocking the breath out of him. D-Wreck, not satisfied with his Wrestlemania performance so far, jumps over the railing with a flying knee into AF's sternum. If it gives you any insight into the type of guy that D-Wreck is, he started barking at AF. This scared the fuck outta the rest of his friends, and they got their friend and hightailed it the fuck outta there. D-Wreck howled into the night, looked at me, and yelled "Thank you! I've been looking to fuck someone up all night!"

The best part was that we looked at them on camera, and the dude that I headlocked tried to fight his friends and ended up busting ass in the parking lot, and fucking up his face. They've all been permanently banned from the bar. I guess if you support terrorism, you shouldn't be so much of a pussy. Then I went home and railed my beauty queen girlfriend in the name of freedom. Because America." culled from /r/murica

FRIDAY FLICK: Hell Comes to Frogtown is a 1988 cult film set in an post-apocalyptic wasteland where few fertile men and women exist due to atomic fallout. As a result, the government places a high priority on those that can still breed. Shortly before the movie opens, a group of mutant amphibians (who have been exiled to the desert by humans) capture a group of fertile women and are using them as sex slaves. Sandahl Bergman -- think Valeria from Conan the Barbarian -- was supposed to be naked for the Dance of the Three Snakes set piece, but refused to do any nudity. Per R.J. Kizer, the character was originally written to be naked for the dance, but when Ms. Bergman was hired for the role one of the stipulations was no nudity. The scene was (unfortunately) adjusted accordingly.