The Shitter Guy Chronicles: Wat Iz Diss

My early adventures with The Shitter Guy, while funny, pale in comparison to the events that occurred about mid-way through our time together. When I was 22 I ended a 6 year relationship and The Shitter Guy swiftly took me under his wing and we started partying....hard. Eventually all this foolishness would catch up with me, and I would abandon this reckless lifestyle....but at the time we did it, and did it big. This is a story of one of the earliest events when I learned that hanging out with The Shitter Guy would lead to some next level shit. This story came to be know as the Wat Iz Diss incident:

There is a club/bar locally that I'll just call The Stomping Donkey. This place was a drunken Redneck wonderland, with an inexplicable mix of country music downstairs with older people Two Stepping and a Ghetto Environment upstairs blaring ignorant rap music and filled with ignorant behavior. We of course hung out upstairs. We also drank heavily and with quite a bit of disregard for the consequences.

One night I met up with The Shitter Guy at a bar near this establishment to get our pre-party on. I think this was the first night that he showed me his brand new Benchmade Pocket Knife, which would figure heavily in our later adventures. We proceeded to fortify ourselves for the night ahead with copious amounts of Wild Turkey 101 and Hot Damn. When the magic 11 o'clock hour hit, The Shitter Guy made his inevitable announcement that it was time to head to The Stomping Donkey, and of course I had no objections.

We arrived at The Stomping Donkey and proceeded to indulge in shots of Jager and more Whiskey. Approaches to various females of dubious morals were made, and in my case, totally rejected. So at one point I wandered out of the Ghetto-Fest upper bar area over to the balcony area overlooking the main dance floor for a smoke. I lit up and enjoyed my cigarette, and decided in my drunken haze that spitting over the balcony was the best idea at the time.

Almost immediately after launching an impressive glob of mucus over the balcony I was confronted by a very Angry Mexican Gentleman and his short, bald side kick. This dude was very unhappy about the large glob of mucus that was currently chilling on his shoulder. And led to the following conversation:

Angry Mexican: WAT IZ DISS (pointing to the spit)
Me: Shit I don't know...
Angry Mexican: WAT IZ DISS! YOU KNOW
Me: I dunno dude, looks like your buddy got too excited and made a mess on your shirt.

At this point Angry Mexican was all up in my face, and then started jabbering and pointing his finger in my face, I guess he was threatening to kick my ass in very garbled Spanish. Then OUT OF FUCKING NOWHERE, The Shitter Guy arrives to save the day!

The Shitter Guy: You got a fucking problem with my boy [Meaty]?
Angry Mexican: WAT IZ DISS (again pointing at the spit)
The Shitter Guy: I don't give a fuck what that is!
Angry Mexican: HE KNOW WAT DISS IZ! (pointing at me)
The Shitter Guy: What is that? (asking me)
Me: Fuck I dunno, I think his little bald buddy jizzed on his shoulder.

At this point Angry Mexican becomes PISSED MEXICAN and again jumped into my face.....and at this point, The Shitter Guy took it to the next level.

The Shitter Guy: YOU GOT A FUCKING PROBLEM? YOU WANNA GO? I'LL GUT YOU LIKE A FISH RIGHT HERE! I DON'T GIVE A FUCK! (at this point, the Benchmade its first appearance)
PISSED MEXICAN: NO, YOU PAY FOR DISS (pointing at the spit)
The Shitter Guy: NO, YOU NEED TO FUCK RIGHT OFF WITH YOUR LITTLE FUCK BUDDY BEFORE I CUT YOU.

At this point I've backed totally away from the confrontation, The Shitter Guy is screaming, veins are bulging in his neck, and spit is flying out of his mouth, and the Benchmade is waving ominously in his hand. Oh and its worth mentioning that The Shitter Guy is about 5'6 150-160 pounds and PISSED MEXICAN was at least 6' 180, maybe 200 pounds. 

While the two of them are screaming at each other another buddy of ours who played College Football and was an enormous dude wandered up. He calmly walked up and asked if there was a problem, The Shitter Guy replied, "YEAH THERES A FUCKING PROBLEM" and then our giant friend began screaming at PISSED MEXICAN, who suddenly decided that this whole situation could be resolved with a napkin and ran to the bar to get one. Leaving us standing there bewildered.

That night probably should have been a warning, or an omen....but I was young and dumb and I thought (and still kinda do) that it was hilarious and awesome. We spent the rest of that night drinking more and constantly screaming "WAT IZ DISS" in the bar. We never saw PISSED MEXICAN again.