Pacifist now, but...
Age 10, all necessary pre-existing conditions met. New school - check. Early puberty, making me look curvy and 16 - check. Cheerful optimism - check. Due to poor eyesight, taking a seat at the front of the class on my first day at l'Ecole de Fucktard - check and mate. Cut to the end of the day, in an alley. A nice turnout. So many of them wanted to thrash me that they couldn't decide who should start, so they contracted it out to the prize class lummox. I could have told them that I had 10 years of fighting practice at home thanks to a psychotic sibling, and my training was nicely augmented by weekly study of pre-WWF/E wrestling matches on a grainy b/w tv... but they weren't in a listening mood. So, amid the swarm of smelly 10-year-olds making rude noises about my sex life and such, a largish oaf lumbers toward me, grinning and going "Heh, hehh..." A flurry of activity ensues. Full nelson! The Boston Crab! Body slam! Oooh, the pile driver! I think at the point where I was grinding his drooling face into the gravel, he decided to call it a draw. I think I actually made him say, "Uncle," because I saw it on TV once and thought it was protocol.

That was that sorted out, till the girls started in on me. Fixed that though, too, eventually. Years and years later, a few of them still look a little frightened if they spot me (had them think I was a witch and could cast spells on them.) Sheep.

First post - but if you lot want to pound me for being new, come on then! Hugs and pints after, of course.
(socialised_medicine quietly returns to Saskatchewan for Lurkfest 2007, Sat 11 Mar 2006, 16:49, Reply)