July 7 - Yes, It's True. I Got My Ass Kicked by a Back-up Dancer in a Boy Band

OK, fuck it. I'm not going to sugarcoat this. You know that band boy band 98 Degrees? One of their back-up dancers kicked my ass. There, I said it.
Which one? The pouty one that kind of looks like a lesbian. I think it's Joey or Schmitty or something like that. Something with a Y.
Yeah, go ahead and laugh. Laugh all you want. Go on. Get it out of your system. Finished yet? Nope? That's fine. I'll wait.
There, you done yet? No? That's cool. I got all day.
How about now? Ready to listen yet? Yeah?
Good.
OK, first of all? The guy was fast. If you've ever seen one their videos you know what I'm talking about. And yeah, they edit the shit out of those things and put in all these jump cuts and what not, but whatever. The guy was faster than lightening. Seriously.
And agile. Speedy little fucker could kick, man. Cranked me right in the nose from a complete stand still. That I was not expecting.
Yeah, I'll admit it. I underestimated the guy. I saw him over there signing autographs looking like a dick and all the kids loved him and everything and I just started messing with him and shit, like pushing him a little and knocking his hat on the ground, that kind of thing. I didn't mean nothing serious. I just figured he would take it like when those townies were messing with the Die Hard villain Amish guy in Witness. But instead, he totally started kicking ass. Like Harrison Ford in Witness.
And the shit totally caught me off guard. I never expected him to take the first swing, especially not at Disney World. Not with all those kids around.
By the way, speaking of which, nice role model there, Cody or Ricky or whichever one you are. Don't turn the other cheek or anything. Just come out punching as soon as someone is taunting you and shit.
Actually, I would have preferred that. A plain old fashioned ass whooping would have been far preferable to that fancy ass dance inflected shit he was breaking out. Dude was just fucking with me and there wasn't nothing I could do about it. I felt powerless. Those airplane bottles of Jim Beam I'd been nipping at all day couldn't have helped.
Man, I felt like such a dick. He really won the crowd over--like they weren't already on his side as it was. But I never would have thought kids would go so crazy over a street fight. Completely desensitized to violence, man. Jesus, they were cheering like somebody was giving away free ice cream or something. Hell, even my own step-daughter was dancing and clapping along. That was the worst part, especially since I was only messing with the guy to try to impress her in the first place.
Actually, no. I take that back. The worst part was when he got a high-five from Donald Duck afterwards. That hurt. I always thought Donald was one of the good ones. Now I know the truth.
And then, to add insult to injury, Crystal told me Dakota insisted on cranking that pretty boy 98 Degrees bullshit all the way to the police station when they picked me up the next morning.
Anyway, Scotty or Pauly or whoever it was was actually pretty cool about it, which actually made me hate him more if that makes sense. They agreed not to press charges if I made a formal apology to the band, so I did and then they invited Dakota to be in their next video, so yeah, great. Go 98 Degrees. Fucking dicks.
Oh, and of course I'm banned from Disney World for life, like that's a big loss. Shit, if I'd known it would get me 86ed from that overpriced shit hole, I would've gotten my ass kicked there by some pretty boy back-up dancer a long ass time ago.