Oh Joy!
2002-09-22 || crime and punishment 2 minutes outside of Harvard Square
Soundtrack � miles davis � some fucking thing or something

I glance to my left and see two corona bottles, one of those thicker pint glasses, and a Budweiser bottle. The kids from Harvard keep yelling. The blonde girl is in the middle dancing, and they are laughing. The stool that is right next to me on the left gets pushed a little more into my leg. I push it back into the leg of one of the Harvard kids. He doesn�t look. The blonde girl is still laughing, the one kid with the flat top, wait they all have flat tops is yelling something, as his buddy comes back over with two drinks with umbrellas in them. I can�t hear the music that well. The band on stage runs through another number, the blonde is yelling, they�re all yelling, all 7 of them. Oh, there are three women. I finally see the blonde�s face. They want to fuck this girl? She�s as ugly as fucking sin. So she has a nice ass, and tight jeans on. She�s as dumb as a bag of hammers, and is holding her corona bottle above her shoulders (my theory that the more drunk someone is, the higher they hold their drink is in fullfuckingeffect here). I glance over at the bottles, and the pint glass again. I then try to find my �getaway route�. My two friends are on the other side of the bar, and if I need to make a quick getaway, how am I going to do this. The bar is small enough that by the time they figure out what just happened, and help their friend up, I will be in my car listening to Black Sabbath, smoking even more crystal meth than I did before I got to the gig. Now I need to figure out which will hurt more the pint glass cupped in my hand across the guys temple, or the Budweiser �tall boy� held by the neck, across the bridge of the nose, or the corona bottle, held by the neck, smashed into the teeth. How badly am I going to ruin this blonde girls night by smashing this glass object into her friends head shortly? How cool will it be when everyone in the club, who are clearly as annoyed at the Harvard fuckheads as I am, start applauding and patting me on the back as I make my getaway through the back door? Exactly, very fucking cool indeed. These folks are epitomizing why I need to disassociate myself from drunk people. Fuck, do I look like this fuck when I am drunk? Yes, you do you fucking moron. Well, then sign me up for the Carrie Nation fan club, let�s start smashing drunks in the face with thick glass objects. I just paid money to see this band, and I can�t enjoy myself while they bump into me, and yell in my ear, and exist in general. I want my money back, or, I want to see this law students blood all over my right hand. If I use the pint glass, I may hurt myself. I say you use the Budweiser �tall-boy�. It will not only hold much significance, but it is the best weapon you have available right now. Will I go to jail? Not if those three people move away from the exit door. What about my friends? One of them has a cell phone right? Well, you call them when you get far away. When you get down to Porter Square, pull into that parking lot, grab a donut and a coffee, and get back in your car. Do not drive towards Harvard square. They will find you. The doorman recognized me. Does the doorman know your name? No he doesn�t. Well there you go, and remember since he does know your face, he didn�t check your ID. Hmmm. Let me see if I can move to another area of the club so that they are not right in my face during the performance. Ah this is a little better. They are over there. I have a good view of the whole group of them from here. The band is now performing Love Me from Dudley Moore�s Bedazzled, not the shitty version that Brandon Frasier did. Wait, didn�t Brandon Frasier go to Harvard? No I don�t think he did, and it�s Brendan Frasier. Actually you�re both wrong, it�s Brendan Fraser, I just looked it up. Either way, he�s a shitty actor. Sort of on the same par with a Keanu Reeves, or a James Spader. Hey Keanu was good in the Matrix! I guess, that movie sucked though, so it doesn�t fucking matter if he was good in it. Robert Deniro was good in Mean Streets that doesn�t mean that was a good movie. What the fuck are you talking about, Mean Streets is a great movie! Plus, it�s Robert DeNiro. I know, I was just seeing if you were paying attention. I love that movie. Okay, Robert DeNiro was good in Cop Land, it doesn�t mean that was a good movie. Good answer. This is going to be cool, kind of like that scene in Clockwork Orange where they smash Alex in the face with the milk bottle. That�s one of my favorite scenes in that movie. They go to rob that rich woman, and he�s in there and as the two battle - he with a giant statue of a penis and she with a bust of Ludwig Van Beethoven - she falls to the floor and he strikes her dead. The symbolism is obvious; he battles the elite of society with that which they hold dear, while she uses all that he treasures to fight back. When he gets outside, he experiences the first of a bunch of betrayals throughout the rest of the film. So, this should work out great, I will be battling the elite of society with what they hold dear, the bottle of beer. He will be using what he holds dear, his fucking mouth. His pretty little mouth is my enemy right now. If I get caught, I will just go to jail though, where I won�t learn anything but to become more violent. Remember that scene in the movie when they have him on stage in the hospital, and the man yells "The boy has no choice!" This aspect of the film is perhaps the strongest part dealing with the issue of social justice. Alex is left virtually a machine, unwilling to act on his own accord. Kubrick presents the question as to whether society should be able to take away the free will of its worst citizens. I think they don�t have the right to. Let me smash this guy in the face with this bottle. I can do it. Let me. This man is invading my space. I won�t do it again, but this once, it needs to be done. Society should worry about putting the real criminals away. Put away the Harvard guy in this group that is going to take advantage of the blonde girl presumably from Boston University across the river. He�s the real criminal here. He keeps buying her drinks. I�m watching him. For every Bud Light he drinks, he comes back with a corona, and then a mixed drink for her. Does he really want to fuck her when she will be as drunk as she is? Fuck, I am the hero here in the club tonight. I am preventing a date rape if I put this guy down on the floor clutching his mouth like a little baby. I am a motherfucking hero like Superman, ridding the world of evil. Like Carrie Nation. Like the man I need to be. On my toes at all times, and ready to attack anyone who invades my space on a Friday night when I�m trying to enjoy my friends band at the Lizard Lounge. Shit, my friends band is playing. I should be nice. They will probably stop the gig, and he won�t get to play any longer. I guess I will go over in the corner and watch them from over there. I wonder if I have enough money for another beer.

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