So I’m walking past the food court at an upscale mall in Cherry Creek this afternoon when I spot a a teenage boy—dark hair, olive skin—wearing Hizbollah colors and chatting up a pair of high school girls. Which, of course, left me little choice but to tackle him from behind—lowering my shoulder into the small of his skinny manboy back and driving him headlong into the counterfront of the Great Steak and Potato Company. Then, once I had him stunned and curled into a quivering fetal ball, I began administering a series of kidney punches that I was sure the little wannabe jihadist wouldn’t soon forget.
Because here’s the thing: in my world, it’s fine if you want to agitate for terrorist thugs at pre-planned rallies, even if doing so marks you as a moral cipher. But when you begin parading your aggressive moral equivalence in front of Panda freakin’ Express, well—then you’ve crossed a line, brother.
Sorry. But that’s just how Jeff rolls.
That being said, it turns out the kid I tackled wasn’t so much a supporter of Hizballah as he was a fan of the 1970 Oakland Athletics, whose road jerseys had the same color scheme as the Hizballah flag—an unfortunate coincidence that, in retrospect, explains both the “Hunter” and the “27” embroidered on the back of his shirt, things I initially took to be a combination of youthful braggadocio and a ghoulish body count tally.
—Which just goes to show that even a committed intentionalist can be fooled by situational semiotics, particularly when he brings with him to the interpretative moment a host of extraneous personal and cultural baggage that serves no other purpose but to pollute the specific authorial context—a lesson that would have proven useful had I reminded myself of these truisms before I landed that last series of flying atomic elbow drops to the poor kid’s thighs.
Luckily, what did prove useful, given the circumstances, were my New Balance cross trainers and a parking spot close to the mall exit—both of which allowed me to lose the two paunchy security guards who chased me down the escalator and huffed after me into the parking garage.
At least, I think I lost them. To be honest, it’s difficult to know for certain with all the shades drawn and a stoned armadillo crunching sour cream and onion Pringles on your couch.
Developing…
Hey, if you took him for a Jihadi, he must have been a jihadi. Screw Catfish. And Bushitler.
Who cares what dude was thinking when he put the jihadi gear on?
Another ZIONIST overreaction against swarthy innocent youth.
How dare you tackle those 40 teenagers.
How far is Oakland from Berkeley, anyway? Probably no accident on the colors when you think about it.
AND STOP TELLING ME I’VE EXCEEDED THE ALLOWED PAGE LOAD FREQUENCY!
FASCIST!
TW: Okay, I’ll come back later.
“Developing”?
Hmmmm. Sounds familiar. Was that the way Lynch ended episodes of “Twin Peaks” the last couple of seasons?
Does Reuters have pictures yet?
Freakin’ American League fan! I’ll bet there is some hidden message contained there!
I say he had it comming!
Funniest installment ever!
It’s a good thing you weren’t carrying. It would have looked really bad if you’d have pistol whipped him.
TW: It became quite a scandal..
Best. Post. Ever.
Related?
The ‘dillo revolution will NOT be televised.
TW: I’m willing and able to defend myself.
Dude, that was friggin hilarious
Intentionalism`s, Jeff are
a double edged sword.
“Some may be used for the side of of good.Some for evil”.I seldom quote Maxwell Smart,but in this instance it seems relevant. If the dillo finds the greenie stash under the cushions I`ll be some pissed. That was the funniest post ever.
If you dress like that and stand in front of Panda Express, you are totally just asking for it.
I bet he liked it.
Plus, you saved the teenage girls.
yeah.
So share.
Right next door, B Moe. They share a congresscritter, too. Guess who?
Let’s break this down into easily digested elements:
1. Oblique Catfish Hunter reference. Check.
2. Fast food franchises belonging to Jooooo uncle references. Check.
3. Even more oblique reference to certain community college professors. Check.
4. Allegory of Hezbollah as sneering teen who could be dealt with if fat Europeans and UN dolts would just get out tof the way. Check.
5. Armadillo. Check.
6. Stoned armadillo. Check.
This, my friends, is why (a) I visit this place and (b) lefties just lose it around here. Good times.
I went to college with Charlie Finley’s son.
tw:[preview] provide I provide useless information to this thread.
tw: three Number of shutouts Catfish pitched
in 1969.
That “kid” didn’t happen to have a handlebar moustache, did he? Because that would be keeping it real.
Damn. It occurs to me that I was mistakenly thinking of Rollie Fingers.
Catfish had a fine ‘stache, too, Sean.
However, for sheer ‘70s exuberance, nobody and I mean nobody could touch Oscar Gamble’s ‘fro.
– Now see here I thought he was referencing another Hunter dude. The one who wore a tin hat, and offed himself when he went bat shit crazy listening to the cruschendo of the billions of cickets infesting the big sky outdoors during those 5 minute interludes when he wasn’t stoned or wasted. A prime example of stolen interpretational authorship if ever I saw one.
– That ‘dillo would last about 5 minutes around here, and then it would be a fist fight to see who got the honors of throwing him under the bus, so he could achieve his normally, nature inspired, clash with humanity ending flatness thing.
TW: Damn I wish they’d clean up the bumps in this road.
Correction of inflated victim count can be found next week on page B19.
”…â€â€Which just goes to show that even a committed intentionalist can be fooled by situational semiotics…”
Which also just goes to show that mini-meta-narrative forays’just don’t get any better.
Been away for a while, but I’m going to have to stop that.
tw: also: She also serves who only sits and reads. (with apologies to Milton)
The absence of part-time video journalists and bright lights should have been your first clue that this was not an authentic Hezbollah freedom fighter. Those dudes don’t go anywhere without their photo op posse.
TW: It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.
Let this be fair warning to all other jihad wannabes that think they can aggressively loiter in our retail infrastructure with impunity.
TW: food courts, now a national buffer zone between us and the canary T’shirted human-shielders.
I wonder how stoned you get if you ground up the ‘dillos shell and snorted it?
Considering Jeff’s weapon of choice, I’d kind of prefer to think he always carries.
Although, I’d be a little perturbed at finding that a whipping with that weapon happened in front of Panda Express.
That would just be wong.
Dammit. Typo.
Really. It was.
Why are you all looking at me like that?
Sorry. The Dr. Pepper came out my nose and mouth at the same time.
And I may have had a seizure.
And didn’t rabbit punch the little proto-profiteer while you had the chance?
McGehee,
Some woman on the phone claiming to be a “Donna Chang” for you.
There’s carry and there’s (s)carry, if you know what I mean and I think you do…
TW: What set that off?
I went to college with Charlie Finley’s son.
And didn’t rabbit punch the little proto-profiteer while you had the chance?
Actually he was kind of a goofy fu*k.
I got the impression that he spent very little time with his dad.
tw: series Oakland won the 1972 – 1974 World
Series. (but you knew that).
Jeff, clearly you were justified in your actions…why just the other day I did the same thing to a rather fragile handicaped guy who was caught red-handed trying to park in one of my non-handicaped spots at Colorado Mills. So I administered a few well executed body blows to the mid section followed with head lock that forced him to tap-out.
Ok…where’s the Sal Bando tie in? Can’t do the Catfish without the Sal.
I still remember the whole school being called into an assembly to watch the World Series in ‘73.
TW…that was many…many…Years ago.
Oh crap. I stiffed her for an order of wontons.
Like I said in an earlier thread, prices have gone up.
Ow. That hurts just visualizing them…
For your sakes, I hope you will all look back at this thread one day and feel shame and embarrassment. That would make you menschen.
Either make a point of go away, David. Clearly you aren’t familiar enough with this site to have any idea what’s going on. So your self-righteous posturing just comes off as imbecilic and confused.
Now please. If you have something you wish to discuss, discuss it. If not, give it a rest.
I hate the As, especially that freeky 74 team that beat my beloved Dodgers… They make small boys cry they do, that guy deserved the punch. Way to go Jeff.
7. Riffin’ thread. Check.
Oh yes, good times. I’m there, my brother.
That would be more impressive than seeing him dance.