Hey, You!

Illustration by Bob Aul

You're the racist piece of shit who decided to spew your ignorant hate at that black woman and her two small children last week in Newport Beach. I'm the guy who told you to shut the fuck up and knocked you the fuck out when you got in my face. I'm also the guy that picked you up so I could pummel you some more. But before I did that, I realized I hit you so hard you didn't recognize me. Yup, I'm the guy who spent the next 10 minutes with you, asking if you were okay and pretending to give a shit until the cops and paramedics arrived. The same guy who kept saying, "I don't know what happened, dude." The same guy the cops told to "get outta here" after they got the whole story from a witness. If you don't remember why I tried to separate your head from your shoulders, I hope you read this and remember. And the next time you decide to run your stupid mouth, I hope you have enough sense to make sure I'm not around. And I hope this confessional jogs your memory and you always remember you got knocked the fuck out by some random nigger-lovin' race traitor. See ya in hell, bitch!

Send anonymous thanks, confessions or accusations—changing or deleting the names of the guilty and innocent—to "Hey, You!" c/o OC Weekly, 1666 N. Main St., Ste. 500, Santa Ana, CA 92701-7417, or e-mail us at letters@ocweekly.com.