I'm the guy who was minding his own business talking to two girls outside Ralphs in Laguna Beach after buying milk and water at 1 a.m. You're the red-haired meth-head prick that decided he wanted to fight with me because I'm English. You stood there with your five friends and your tough tattoos mouthing off about your Irish heritage. Then you took your shirt off and stood there flexing your muscles in the middle of the parking lot shouting, "I'm Irish!" while I walked away,... More >>>