Yeah, so I've already broken one of three resolutions, right?

But hey, I have a kid. Anyone who's ever had a kid knows what tiny germ factories they are come January, so all three of us have been sick; one right after the other. I'm lucky to have been able to work this past week, and that's for cash. Writing is for free, so it takes a back back back burner.

But all that is neither here nor there; I'm here to tell a story. A true story, but for anonymity's sake I will not mention names.

My husband works at a warehouse from whence many of these stories spring. This particular one happened off-site, at a dirty hole-in-the-wall bar, and it stars the youngest member of a large, crazy, wall-eyed, possibly meth addled clan of river rats that work with him. They're good enough people, but they're the kind of people you're glad to see leave a party before something gets burnt down.

Apparentally, this young gentleman was drinking himself silly at a south side bar, and he got into an altercation with another genteel patron. In the ensuing fracas, this kid was forcibly ejected from the bar. The other guy was allowed to stay, and showed his appreciation for this by teasing the poor boy through the bar's front plate glass window. We like to call this 'poking the bear'. It's not suggested, whether dealing with the Insanity Clan or actual bears. The reason why will become clear.

Our hero, who had been drinking since the sun was still up, was feeling no pain. This was helpful because he decided to punch the guy through the plate glass window. When he came to, he had 60 stitches from his wrist to his shoulder, and he was arrested for assault.

But that's not the kicker. The kicker is that he knocked the guy out. With one punch, delivered through a plate glass window.

Suffice it to say, we are very happy that he likes my husband. Someone who suffers from that much of a restraint deficit is someone you definitely prefer on your side. It's marginally less dangerous.

And there you have it. Idiot one from Idiotville.