Don't believe me?
Suck a cock :D
Drunk History Vol. 1 featuring Michael Cera:
Drunk History Vol. 2 featuring Jack Black:
Drunk History Vol. 2.5 featuring Jack Black:
And with that, I present to you...
DRUNK HISTORY VOL. 3 FEATURING OPTIMUS PRIME
Alright, so there's no video, and I wasn't actually drunk when I thought up the idea, nor now, while I'm writing it, but... still.
Fuck you.
Drunk History by ME.
Alright so Andrew Jackson is like 40 years old and he's the chief general of the Tennessee militia, and a judge on the Tennessee supreme court, and he has the best horse in Tennessee, and the most slaves, and he's pretty much an all-around bad-ass. And there's this guy, Charles Dickinson, who, as the name implies, is an all-around son of a dick. And this Dicky guy is young and trying to make a name for himself and he's being a prick, and says some shit about Andrew Jackson, and then Andy's like "You are a coward and a poltroon!" and Charles is like "You are a coward and a poltroon!"
And so eventually, Andrew has had enough, and he' like "Alright... you fucking... poltroon. Let's fucking fight this shit out. You probably dissed my wife, and you definitely dissed me and my bros, so I'm going to duel you, and I'm going to shoot you."
And it takes a while (because he's a puss) but Dickinson finally agrees, and is all like "Bitch, please. I got like 5 times as many bros as you, and I'm pretty much the greatest shot in all of Tennessee, so I'll shoot your old ass and you can suck a nut."
So they go to their arranged dueling place, and they're at 24 yards, right, and Dickinson is really a better shot, so he's real confident, and he draws faster, so he knows he can win.
So one of their guys is all like "Fire!"
And the thing is the Dickinson does shoot first. He shoots Andrew Jackson right in the heart, but the thing about THAT thing is that Jackson is wearing a baggy jacket, so he actually gets shot like an inch away from his heart, and the bullet explodes on his ribcage. And everyone's stunned as shit. Jackson stumbles, corrects his balance, and is staring right at Dickinson, whose jaw is totally floored, by the way. Jackson takes his sweet time to aim and then squeezes the trigger.
Nothing happened, because it was only half cocked, so he cocked it right and then kills Dickinson. He shot him in the heart, and he crumpled to the ground like a dead guy. It actually took him like a day and a half to die, but he still died before his wife got to see him, so it was still pretty hardcore. And Andrew Jackson is still like "If he had shot me in my brain or my heart, I still would've killed him."
Which is probably true. Bullets back then were pretty small and Andrew Jackson was a fiery raging inferno of brutality.
And that is the first time Andrew Jackson killed Charles Dickinson... a man.
Showing posts with label duel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label duel. Show all posts
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Optimus Prime's Roommate is a Dirty Coward.
He filed a report with Campus Police because I watched too much Dexter.
A few little comments about cutting him up into pieces, putting them in garbage bags filled with rocks, and then sinking 'em off my boat, and he goes crying to Public Safety.
What a bitch.
But in all seriousness, he was fully aware that I was referencing Dexter, whether or not he thought I was actually going to do these things (never mind the fact I don't have the tools to cut through bones, nearly enough garbage bags, a car OR a boat with which to even dispose of him properly). And for all the things he's done to me, I've never once said anything except to our R.A., and even still I didn't ask him to do anything about it.
So I had these fucking gadje shadogs all up in my shit, asking me questions, digging through my shit, taking my nearly kicked bottle of vo (my neologism for vodka) and all my fucking knives, razors, and blades.
I'm kinda pissed, not gonna lie. What little respect I had for him is officially lost. And here I thought I was rooming with a man, not a fucking pansy girly baby.
If it wasn't so illegal, or if I wasn't kinda under surveillance, I would challenge him to a duel RIGHT THE FUCK NOW.
A few little comments about cutting him up into pieces, putting them in garbage bags filled with rocks, and then sinking 'em off my boat, and he goes crying to Public Safety.
What a bitch.
But in all seriousness, he was fully aware that I was referencing Dexter, whether or not he thought I was actually going to do these things (never mind the fact I don't have the tools to cut through bones, nearly enough garbage bags, a car OR a boat with which to even dispose of him properly). And for all the things he's done to me, I've never once said anything except to our R.A., and even still I didn't ask him to do anything about it.
So I had these fucking gadje shadogs all up in my shit, asking me questions, digging through my shit, taking my nearly kicked bottle of vo (my neologism for vodka) and all my fucking knives, razors, and blades.
I'm kinda pissed, not gonna lie. What little respect I had for him is officially lost. And here I thought I was rooming with a man, not a fucking pansy girly baby.
If it wasn't so illegal, or if I wasn't kinda under surveillance, I would challenge him to a duel RIGHT THE FUCK NOW.
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