- Jan 23, 2006
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The other day I was walking home from my friends and I approaching me was a bunch of common muck racer boy chavs, dressed head to toe in reebok, smoking fags and wearing heavy gold jewllery.
From past experience I knew I was in for something...maybe the odd comment or two? However, upon approaching them, dressed entirely in black, black tight jeans, black Anthrax tee-shirt, my Opeth hoodie, dirty black converse, they shouted "oi you fucking goth!".
I was livid..."A Goth?" I replied...can you fucking believe it? Now occasionally...I do get incorrectly labelled Emo or grunger which I can bear but Goth? I don't ware make up, My skin is not pale and I happen to listen to damn good music.
So...I challenged all four of them to a fight. Now I am a small guy, pretty damn weak actually and I have longish hair. They laughed at me...oh how they laughed!!! So I thought, entirely out of character "fuck it!"!
I pulled out my Smith and Western and blew them all away. All of them. And then I got my crucifix out of my back pocket and stabbed them with it, repeatedly, in the head until they were unrecognisable.
The moral of the story. Don't mess with little Goth Kids.
From past experience I knew I was in for something...maybe the odd comment or two? However, upon approaching them, dressed entirely in black, black tight jeans, black Anthrax tee-shirt, my Opeth hoodie, dirty black converse, they shouted "oi you fucking goth!".
I was livid..."A Goth?" I replied...can you fucking believe it? Now occasionally...I do get incorrectly labelled Emo or grunger which I can bear but Goth? I don't ware make up, My skin is not pale and I happen to listen to damn good music.
So...I challenged all four of them to a fight. Now I am a small guy, pretty damn weak actually and I have longish hair. They laughed at me...oh how they laughed!!! So I thought, entirely out of character "fuck it!"!
I pulled out my Smith and Western and blew them all away. All of them. And then I got my crucifix out of my back pocket and stabbed them with it, repeatedly, in the head until they were unrecognisable.
The moral of the story. Don't mess with little Goth Kids.