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What's The Matter, A Bog-Jumper Got Your Tongue?

I'm back from a crazy eight weeks at Kos, the Greek Island. Full of sex, sun, sea, and STD's. May I just add that the Greeks, are fucking lunitics. Beating the shit out of two girls for looking the wrong way, breaking the back of another girl with a moter bike, for standing in the way, and rape, being part of their culture, are just some of the beautiful features you can enjoy, in sunny, 'scarface' Kos. Fucked up! Anyway it was around 5:30am, myself and my girlfriend and my two mates are walking back to our apartment, after drinking Bar Street dry, Irish style. I have literally drunk enough alcohol to tranquilize a herd of elephants. I'm the walking dead at this stage. I dont even think the four of us talked in that walk, which for my part can only be described as, a floating experience. All I wanted to do was get one of those big ass, BSE riddlied rat burgers, in a place that should have been called The Last Supper. Never look inside a burger bun in a place you think is a shit hole, if you wanna eat it, without puking. Just close your eyes and think of a whooper BK style. I once decided to think of this girls pussy, but when juice from the burger started squirting in my mouth, and a lump slide down my throught I vomited on a little girl standing under me.

So the crouching tiger hidden dragon style floating ended. 'The last supper' joint was across the road. We all crossed except me. I think I was trying to pump myself up, either that, or I was having a staring competition with the building, either way, I lost. When all of a sudden this shouting across the street caught my attention. At this stage everything I'm doing seems in slow motion. My eyes fall upon this Greek guy shouting some Greek shit at a lady, and hitting her in the chest in between her breasts. Then it hit me, I know those tits, and this lady aint no ordinary lady, this lady is my girlfriend. This Greek motherfucker is shouting some telletubby language and hitting my girl. Now what you've got to realize is that I have a very short fuse, and being black belt at Kenpo, to help curb my anger, doesn't help, cause my discipline sucks. What suprised me most was how calm and collective I was. Sedated by the drink, no doubt. Slow motion. I blinked and started walking towards this Greek guy.

One thing you have to know about the greeks are, they will always go that extra mile in a fight, so if you're going to get involved, you have to let go of yourself, and put that bitch down. My girlfrends back is to me, and the Greek guy is facing her as I walk towards them. All in one movement, I walk till I'm beside her, Greek boy still shouting, his eyes fall on me, and Matrix style, i.e. it felt as though I had all the time in the world, I wound up and uppercutted the wanker in mid sentence.

This fucker lifted *off the ground*. It was like watching a move in WWF, with one exception. This was real, and this was scary. There was a crunching sound, as his teeth slammed together with a loud *bang* and he severed off the tip of his own tongue. Now I hear, the tongue is the quickest healing part of the body, but guy ain't no lobster and this motherfuckeing tongue ain't ever coming back. As his body went down, the now ownerless piece of tongue muscle flew up into the air, landing with a flop beside its recent ex-owner. Blood didn't just trickle down this mans chin, it squirted, and, oh my god, was there alot of blood. Like little fountains of pressurized liquid shooting from his mouth. He tried to put his hands over it, but the blood just trickled down the cracks and gaps, of his fingers. The man lay on the floor, in shock and twitching from the ordeal, blood running down his neck and making a twisted looking necklace, his tongue having flopped beside him. It looked pretty fucking funny if you ask me, a bloody piece of raw tongue twitching around like a goldfish when it's bowl was knocked over on the kitchen countertop.

The freaky part of this incident, was when the Greek guy, who at this stage was saturated in his own blood (how much blood can there fucking be in a tongue??), started to try to talk or cry, or something. Lying on his back, he would open his mouth, spit out whatever he had collected in there at this stage and, try to make noises. He kept flicking out the stump of his tongue, moving his mouth, trying to make words but only ejaculating our these gurgling noises like he was some EuroTard. Experiment: Curl your tongue to the back of your mouth, to simulate little to no tongue. Done it. Now try to fucking talk. Everytime he tried to say something, there was a gurgling, sqwelching sound, as the stump, involuntarily hit off the gathering saliva and blood.

Anyway, my girl then thought it appropriate to start screaming, as if there wasnt enough attention on me already. The lad lay on the ground putting his hand over his mouth, eyes wide open in shock, probably from finding out he couldn't talk. My pulse didnt even rise, I was in a mode and I was calm. I don't remember the next bit, but my girlfriend told me, that I stooped down, picked up the tongue with my thumb and index finger, put it in the breast pocket of the guys shirt, patted him on the shoulder, and walked in to get a fuckoff kingsized cheese burger, chips and a coke. Apparently I didnt have to pay for the meal either. This event spread like wildfire, and I was nicknamed "DA KID", from that day on. As in the Karate kid. Enjoy, and fuck the Greeks... Irish Emmet

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