SOMETIMES I’M LEFT WITH NO CHOICE…
…but to punch assholes and bullies in the face.
I wish I could help it. I wish I could get around all this necessary violence, but I can’t. I can’t standby and watch bullies and assholes make the world a shittier place.
All it took was a couple years of being bullied for me to learn two very valuable things:
1) How important it is to be nice to people.
2) How good it feels to beat the living fuck out of a bully.
I like to think of myself as a visionary.
Although, not in the Steve Jobs sense of the word. By “visionary,” I mean, I have visions. These visions are usually of assholes and bullies asking me to hit them.
When a bully bullies someone in front of me, I have a vision of the bully saying to me very clearly,
“Donny, PLEASE hit me in the face.”
Now, I’m a gentle flower, made by God, raised by the saints, and disciplined by the nuns, so I would be hesitant to hurt a mosquito, let alone a fellow human being; but I just don’t have it in me to deny someone something they are desperate for. So when I see a bully who is desperate for a fist in his face, I give it to him.
I’m not very strong, not very tough, and not a very good fighter, but God has blessed me with the courage, strength, and justification to do his holy work; and blast assholes and bullies in the face when they deserve it.
I’m just a humble visionary, doing the work of the Lord.
I’m really no different from you. Everyone comes across someone who is such a dick, such an asshole, such a disrespectful, snobby, conniving prick; that you want nothing more than to punch them in the fucking face.
The only difference between you and I is, I actually do it.
I should make it clear that I never hit people out of anger nor emotion, it’s purely out of kindness and compassion. In fact, I usually smile when I hit someone, and then laugh as they hit the ground. The happiness that accompanies my fists is derived from my assumption that they will be a better person when they wake up; and the world will be a better place, having one less bully. My friends usually find it highly disturbing and amusing.
I believe that hitting jerks, assholes, bullies, dickheads, shitheads, scumbags, douchebags, and other mean people, is actually a lovely and righteous practice that should be emulated by more people.
My predisposition to fighting and my inoculation to violence could be interpreted as slightly psychotic, and/ or emotionally disturbing. It might insinuate a rough or abusive childhood, devoid of proper parental guidance, love, and nurturing. However, when you look at how I was raised by my two incredible, selfless, and loving parents, it makes perfect sense.
It all started when I was a kid in Queens. My Colombian immigrant, Queens-raised mother taught my brother and I a class on how to protect ourselves in the school yard. My mom sat us down on the couch when we were six years old and made us watch her as she reenacted a bully picking on someone, and the way we were expected to respond.
She punched the imaginary bully in the face, then kicked it in the stomach, and then proceeded to step on its imaginary face with one step per syllable “DON’T, MESS, WITH, ME, PUNK!”
Mom finished stomping, looked at us with a crazy look, and then immediately relaxed her character as if someone had said “END SCENE.”
My brother and I sat wide-eyed on the couch and wondered what it would be like to actually do that to another person. I was excited at the thought of it, my brother was excited at the thought of never doing it.
My dad was less dramatic, but equally as forceful, in his own quiet and reserved way.
Dad is the son of hot tempered, Irish immigrants, grew up in Queens, and then joined the Marine Infantry in 1979.
This was dad’s short and sweet self defense class to my brother and I when we were six years old.
“If someone pushes you, you respond with overwhelming force. If you ever think someone is going to hurt you, you don’t wait, you don’t yell, you don’t hesitate, you stick your finger into their eyeball and rip their fucking eye out.”
He did a reenactment of sticking a finger in someones eye socket and ripping the eye out.
“They’ll scream bloody murder, and they’ll never mess with you again. Understood?”
Yep. I’m normal.
CLICK ON A BOOK TITLE FROM MY E-BOOK SERIES “NECESSARY VIOLENCE” TO READ A STORY
NECESSARY VIOLENCE FROM A HIGH SCHOOL REBEL
NECESSARY VIOLENCE FROM A CALIFORNIA FRAT BOY
JUST A FEW OF THE STORIES OF EDUCATION, GROWTH, LEARNING, AND LIFE CHANGING HUMANITARIAN AID THROUGH VIOLENCE, THAT YOU’LL READ IN MY
“NECESSARY VIOLENCE” SERIES
Some asshole from the fraternity next door was stealing from a naïve friend of mine, and then bragging about it to all his friends. This is the story about what I did the day I found out, and how I got mistaken for a mugger and thief.
3 assholes jumped my little fraternity brother in an alley just for fun. This is the story about how I found the three wanna-be gangsters, and what the paramedics said when they came to save them.
David and Goliath
This was the first and most aesthetically pleasing one-on-one fight I ever had the pleasure of being involved in. He was so big, with such a badass reputation, I had nothing to lose.
2 months before I joined the Marine Corps a bouncer told me that I couldn’t come back into the bar because he didn’t like the look on my face. I played nice and gave him a second chance, but he didn’t want to play nice with me. This was a mistake. There was a lot of broken glass, confusion, screaming, police sirens, cocaine, and the world record for fastest mile ever run in Chuck Taylor’s.
2 months before I got out of the Marine Corps a bouncer took me outside and told me I was in a “time out,” because he didn’t like my behavior. I tried to be nice and respectful, but he enjoyed his power way more than he enjoyed being a nice person. I tried to teach him a lesson in not abusing his power. It didn’t go over as well as I hoped. Actually, it went terribly, although when the cops arrested me they didn’t believe him. After all, I was a Marine Officer.
Independence Day Massacre
While at a 4th of July Party I was told that a bunch of assholes were stealing booze from my fraternity brother, charging my friends extra at the door, kicking out my buddies for no reason, and disrespecting some of my girlfriends. I decided to teach them a lesson in being nice. It turned into the most psychotic brawl I have ever been in. There were 8 swollen faces, 8 cop cars I ran from, an asshole in an 8 minute coma, 8 minutes I spent in jail, 8 hours spent in the hospital, and 8 seconds spent explaining it to my Company Commander.
While I was standing in line to buy a burrito at a country concert, a giant, Billy Bob-looking-white-trash-hillbilly leaned over and took a giant bite out of one of my girlfriend’s burritos. I taught that fat fuck a quick lesson in respect for other peoples food, and then weaseled my way out of the consequences.
Tony Robbins hopeful
At a club in Pacific Beach on the 4th of July, I watched a white trash piece of shit bully one of my friends around, then disrespect two young Asian girls, and then act like he was the king of the club. I followed him into the bathroom and introduced him to my fists. Miraculously, I got away with it, but not without seeing my father.
After a 4th of July party I threw on the beach, I was out buying a man thong, taking my friends daughter paddleboarding, and getting food. When I came back to the party I heard that some asshole slapped around one of my girlfriends. I didn’t want to believe a rumor, so I found the guy and asked him myself. He said that there was a big misunderstanding, and that the only thing that could clear the air was for me to hit him in the face. I’m a kind man, so…..
At a New Year’s Party that I threw on the roof of a church downtown, I heard that someone was picking on my little brother. I ran to investigate, and watched the bully push my brother around. The bully turned around to look at me and said, “If you don’t hit me right now Im gonna beat your brother’s ass.” I obliged.
A group of “thug pussies” from El Cajon snuck into one of my frat parties and disrespected some of our girls. I told them to leave, and they made the mistake of thinking I was some punk ass white boy. They learned the hard way that I derive a powerful sense of joy from reminding thugs that they are nothing but pussy, phony, pieces of shit.
Boyz to Men
When I was in college, a group of thug pussies snuck into my party and disrespected my friends. Instead of swinging, I asked one of them to fight me one on one, he told me to wait till his “gangsta homies” showed up. He was actually on the phone with his homies when he looked at me and said “Ey dawg, can you hit me right quick?”
Order to go
While at a private date night at our frat house, two sleazy, roided-out, Jersey Shore looking scumbags snuck in and acted like they owned the place. I was dressed like an In-and-Out employee wearing daisy dukes when one of the lasagna eaters asked me very politely to crack his face open. I didn’t want to, but he asked so nicely I had to oblige.
One of the giant SDSU football players snuck into the frat house and mistook it for his own house. He bullied around a few of the frat guys, and then out of the blue, asked me about cosmetic surgery. I taught him everything I knew.
This way please
An asshole walked into the frat house and pissed in my courtyard while I was president. I was in a good mood, so I asked him nicely to clean it up. He told me to go fuck myself, and then asked me to hurt him. I was in such a good mood I had to give him what he wanted.
While at a club called Whiskey Girl on my birthday I was dancing on the stage and having a great time. The big black thug next to me seemed to be under the impression that it was his stage and no one elses. He leaned in close, and over the music, he told me it was very important that I hit him. I did, got kicked out, snuck back in, and made him hurt some more. I avoided a heavy prison sentence by being a nice person.
The Blind Side
While at a house party in college I saw my fraternity brother surrounded by three big bullies. They began pushing him around like a pinball, and I heard one of the bullies say “Donny, come hit me, quick!” I did as I was told, and then I woke up with a swollen head and mash potato ribs.
While at a house party in college I met a guy who had nothing nice to say about frat guys. I tried to convince him that we were not all bad, but we just couldn’t see eye to eye, so I asked him politely to fight me outside. He obliged and by the end he was able to acknowledge my point of view.
During a fraternity football game I was very displeased with sportsmanship of one of the larger members of the other team. He seemed to believe that because he was bigger than everyone he could speak to anyone in any manner he wanted, without being challenged. I simply disagreed and asked him politely to fight me in the parking structure. He wasn’t as willing to fight as he was to run his mouth, but I still persuaded him to “put his dukes up.” He turned out to be a big fucking baby.
In 2002 I threw a New Years party in the frat house, and one of my frat buddies was having another party in his apartment. The other party got rowdy, threw bottles, and disrespected some of our girls. I asked them to stop. One of them asked me to come over and choke him out. How could I not?
Good 60 yarder
During one party in the frat house, a few scumbags threw beer cans and bottles at my brother. My brother stood up to them, and some asshole ran over to my brother with bad intentions. I intervened with a haymaker, and a large brawl ensued that didn’t end well for the assholes.
Punch, Drunk, Love
A week after shoulder surgery, while out in downtown San Diego on gay pride weekend, I saw some asshole fuck with a couple of gay guys. I couldn’t stand there and watch the asshole harass people, especially not the gays. (I got a few gay cousins, who doesn’t?)
While visiting my brother in northern California, my entire family was partying at a bar on Main Street. The bar became flooded with Nor-Cal douchebags who all wanted to be Little Wayne. Two of them started picking on my friend Chris, and I tried teaching them a lesson. The DA decided not to press charges.
Right to the throne
My arch rival in the fraternity was throwing beer cans at one of the younger guys. Up until that point he was the Alpha Male of the fraternity, having beaten up several of the previous Alpha Males in organized fights in front of the whole frat. He had been begging me to hit him since I was a pledge and was hazing me. I finally gave him what was long overdue. After the fight, we became friends. Violence really does solve things, but only if its necessary…