The Fighting Side of Me

As I sit on my window ledge looking out on Chicago, I recall all of the great crawdad-fighting times of old. Back when things were simpler. In any event, I'm guessing that my current reflective mood has a lot to do with the fact that I've been listening to Merle Haggard for the last 3 hours. The wife and I have just been kicking back and visiting and listened to a little of the Hag, and it has been good.

Makes me think of all of the citiots, the asses, the general dissappointments and the other people who are walking on the fighting side of me.

That guy. The really important one who feels the need to speak over everyone.
City people who talk about organic produce like it is healthier than the alternative.
Exceeding expectations guy.
New York girl.
Cabbies who drive in the middle of the lane.
Hippies.
People who protest the war but know nothing about it.
Anyone who doesn't realize that if you're running down my country, man, you're walking on the fighting side of me.
Anyone who doesn't realize that walking on that side means that there is a hole in Wabanusee county with their name on it.
People who piss off my sister.
Guys who cheat.
Girls who manipulate.
Bouncers.
Those who cheapen, discount, slight, overlook or otherwise ignore hard work rewarded.

Now I'm switching to a little Cash.