I went to the bar, alone, to get fuckin' drunk and watch college football -- 'cause that was my sole intent for the night.

I bullshitted with the regulars, was having a good time -- in walks this late-40-something good old boy and his wife. Good old boy is legit good. Tough rugged motherfucker. Trust me. Or don't, I don't give two fucks what you think. But he's a good man. He also has Parkinson's somethin' awful.

Guy can barely walk -- needs help moving from room to room. Fine. We help him out. Meanwhile, bitch is flirting with anything that moves and generally busting her man's balls loudly for all the things that come with having Parkinson's. I get to talking with the man. He's a real Texas steer, we trade stories for awhile, what the fuck ever. Good guy established.

Later, the old lady's flirting intensifies and I decide, hey, bitch -- this is a good man you got here. Why do you gotta be so shitty a wife at this time when he really needs help? If I married some chick and raised a family and then came down with a crippling medical condition, would that be cool if my wife just gave me shit for it? No. I decide to unilaterally wreck her shit in totality.

I'm out back, smoking a cig -- she shows up, lights up, starts chit-chat, she's grabbing my arm. I remove my exaggeratedly-nerdy glasses and physically shrug her off hard. "Don't you fuckin' touch me, bitch," I say. "That's a good man you got there. And you need to treat him accordingly."

She's just standing there, agog, speechless, with her jaw sufficiently hovering about her kneecaps.

"Someday soon, some nerdy-ass motherfucker like me is going to cure that man, y'all know we're workin' on this shit right?" Her eyes begin to tear up and she clasps my arms again, giving me a solid squeeze. "Oh.......thank you," she says. I shove that shit away again.

"And on that day, I'ma take his newly able-bodied ass out to the club and we gonna land the choicest pussy he's ever had in his life, if you don't shape the fuck up right the fuck now. I've watched you bust his balls all night. This shit stops now, understand?"

"What?" she says.

"You fucking know what. This shit stops now."

Complete mental breakdown on her part at this point, she's straight-up crying her eyes out. "OMG I'm so sorry, I didn't want it to end like this...boohoohoo, etc."

"This isn't the fucking end, dumbass. You guys are, like, 45. Jesus Fucking Christ, could you just not shit the goddamn bed for five fucking seconds?"

Hamstering continues, and each volley is returned with straight-up vitriol. Ain't no universe got room for this shit. Last call for alcohol -- I just leave. I've made my point. If that shit happens again at my bar there's gonna be some serious hell.

And all y'all shits see value in younger versions of these bitches. What the fuck ever. Have at it, shitheads.

Or hedge accordingly.

BTW I ain't respondin' to none'a you fucks, 'cause y'all ain't any better, so don't even bother. I'ma just leave this shit here.