I really feel sorry for some of these women today who find themselves going up against a big, sturdy high school girl or any high school girl, for that matter. They just don't know how tough and brutal these girls can be, and probably aren't mentally prepared to fight them. I mean these girls go for the throat and won't hesitate to pound someone into oblivion, especially an older woman. And when these girls get a chance to go after some biker chick or stripper, they're out for blood. I kid you not.
If you're an older chick fighting one of these girls, especially the bigger, sturdy jocks, you better have something for them. If you're under 120 pounds, you better have some type of martial arts skills. But even that may not be enough because ultimately a stronger girl can circumvent your moves, get you in a hold and take you down. Then you're done.
I dated this biker chick a few years ago. I actually have a couple photos of her which I look at from time to time because she was really hot. And she had the best body I’ve ever seen. She was 32, blonde and only 5'6" and 108 pounds. She used to be a stripper but was also smart. She used her stripping to get through school, but later stripped to make some extra money. I didn't mind at first, but then it started getting to me. I broke up with her shortly after a trip to Florida. We were on spring break, and though I didn't ride my bike down, I took it on my truck.
We were with some other people and Sheri starting drinking. We had been arguing and I pretty much knew I wanted to end our relationship.
Toward the end of the night, we were in the parking lot of the Daytona Inn. A group of high school girls were staying in the hotel. They were rowdy as girls can get when in a group and somehow Sheri got into an argument with one of them. One thing led to another and Sheri ended up throwing an open beer bottle at the girl. But instead of hitting the intended girl, the bottle plonked some behemoth standing behind her in the arm. And beer splashed all over her shirt and pants.
I mean this girl was huge and fierce looking. She had those wide hips and big arms. Her head was smaller and a bit out of proportion with the rest of her body, but she was a monster. I estimated that the girl was 6'4" tall and over 350 pounds, and she was only eighteen as I later found out.
"Hey, biker cxnt!" she shouted—voice deeper than the average girl’s or woman’s. "You got me all wet here."
Sheri was a bit scared, I could tell, despite being drunk. She recoiled a bit and starting walking back to our little crowd.
If you know anything about bikers, they usually enjoy a good fight. And sometimes they'll let their bitches go at it without intervening. I am not like that but Sheri had really pissed me off. So I let the scene play out.
"Hey, bitch, I'm talking to you." The girl approached our crowd with her entourage behind her.
Sheri turned around, looked at me briefly, then gazed back at the girl. She looked back at me as the girl approached. I could tell she was scared out of her mind as this behemoth approached, and I felt sorry for her. But she shouldn't have thrown the beer. I could swear she was pleading with her eyes for me to intervene, but I didn’t.
The girl grabbed her arm and pulled her toward her.
"I think you owe me a new shirt, you skinny little bitch!"
Sheri jerked her arm away. "I don't owe you anything. You girls started it."
"I don't think so," the girl said, and grabbed Sheri by her shirt--a long-sleeve gray one, with the sleeves rolled up, stuffed into her indigo jeans. The top couple buttons of the shirt burst and popped off when the girl tugged her toward her.
Sheri flung her arm out and more buttons flew off—all the way down to her waist, exposing one small, pert tit.
The tall, fat girl laughed at her. "Look at this slut. She's as flat as a pancake . . . And she's gonna be as flat as a pancake herself when I'm done with her."
The girl grabbed for Sheri again, but Sheri ducked.
"Fight . . . Fight . . . Fight!" the high school girls chanted.
The girl attacked again and Sheri ducked. She slapped at the girl when she came up. But the girl deflected her arm as if it were nothing and grabbed Sheri by the hair. Sheri screamed.
"Get off me, you fat bitch!"
"Better watch who you're calling fat, cxnt. I'm really gonna f*ck you up for saying that."
The girl hurled Sheri into a car fifteen feet way—and, I mean, she went flying halfway across the lot. Sheri bounced off it and fell to her ass. The girl then waddled over and picked her up by her hair again. Sheri screamed even louder. I felt terrible but didn't make one effort to help her. The girl bounced Sheri off another car. Sheri was on her ass again and flailing her arms out when the girl reached down and pulled her up by her hair. Sheri screamed some more.
The girl didn't throw her this time. She hiked her knee up, still holding Sheri's hair, jerked her head down and drove her big knee into my girlfriend's face. Sheri went down like a rag doll. She landed on her side. The girl started cackling, a big booming cackle that sent chills up my spine.
Sheri's nose was bleeding. She was now on her stomach and crawling toward our crowd. She didn't get far because the fat chick came over, picked her up by her blonde mane again and pulled her to her feet by the back of her belt. Sheri’s mouth widened in a state of agony.
"I don't like taking a bath in beer, biker bitch." She held Sheri by the hair while facing her. Sheri slapped the girl’s arms but couldn't do any damage. The girl was way too big and strong.
"Knock her ass out, Andrea," one girl shouted.
"Yeah, flatten that skank, Bulldozer."
Bulldozer, I thought to myself. What a fitting name for such a beefy girl. As I cogitated about the name, the girl drove Sheri against some other car with her massive body and knocked the wind out of her. Sheri started gasping for air, but the fight got even more brutal after that.
The fat teen started punching Sheri in the head as Sheri covered her head and tucked her elbows in for protection. She punched Sheri in the face again and again as Sheri held her hands and arms up in a rope-a-dope manner. But the punches jarred her head each time. The girl then grabbed her left tit and squeezed it. "How do you like that, you skinny bitch." Sheri grimaced and scowled at her.
"There's nothing there to hurt, bitch!" the girl shouted.
The girl then punched Sheri in the face and knocked her back against a Mustang. Sheri was hugging the car to stay on her feet, but the girl grabbed her by her hair and jerked her around. Then the girl cocked her arm back and delivered a blow that knocked Sheri down off her boots and back seven or eight feet. Sheri dropped to the pavement like dead weight and landed by the rear tire of a Mustang.
The girl jumped over and started kicking Sheri in the stomach. She then stomped down on her ass a couple times. Sheri was writhing on the ground as I started to walk over and rescue her. Moments later, she had her arms wrapped around her midsection as she leaned against the Mustang.
"Piece of trash," the behemoth girl shouted. And then some girl handed her a beer. The behemoth reached down and pulled Sheri up by her hair yet again. Sheri screamed as the girl pulled her to her knees. The girl jerked Sheri's head back and tried to pour the beer down her throat. Sheri coughed as she got some down her windpipe. The girl then poured the beer all over Sheri and hammered her with a blow to the temple. Sheri dropped to her stomach like a sack of potatoes. She just lay there unconscious as the girl had knocked her out.
"You got what you deserved, you skinny little biker bitch. I hate these biker chicks down here," she told one of the girls.
"Me, too,” said another girl. “But you really put that one in her place.”
"Yeah, I did. But hell, any girl in our school could've beaten her ass and ripped her a new asshole in the process. She was nothing. Just some skinny little biker skank. Most middle school girls could mop the floor with her. It's certainly the easiest fight I've ever had. Even so, you don't mess with the Bulldozer."
And with that the girl kicked Sheri in the gut as hard as she could before walking away with her high school friends. Sheri was a mess. Her face was bruised for days and her nose was broken.
We broke up shortly thereafter. But this is the way most real fights go out there. They're over in a hurry, if it's a mismatch. And this fight lasted three or four minutes tops. The tall, fat girl was vicious and could've killed Sheri if the fight went on much longer. She handled her like a doll and had no respect for her, despite her age. She was a real bruiser . . . no bulldozer! What an appropriate nickname.
Oh, I forgot. Sheri got into another battle back home against an eighteen-year-old volleyball player name Teresa. This was some six months later. Sheri was looking for a place to piss during a biker outing, so she slipped into the woods near the river and started peeing. No sooner had she pulled up up her jeans, a girl came out of nowhere and challenged her to a fight. About six girls showed up a few seconds later. Sheri knew she was overmatched so she tried to run, but one of the girls caught her and shoved her back toward Teresa. That's when Teresa started whaling on her, ripping her belt off and into several pieces before the first punch landed.
People say the fight was bloody and that Sheri couldn't even land a blow. After the beating, the girls started laughing as Teresa dunked the unconscious woman in the river several times. I'll write more about the story at a later date.
