Beaten Up in Boystown


It was a Friday night not unlike any other Friday night. My life partner, Fernando, and I got all dolled up for a night of bar hopping and debauchery.

We decided to hit  up a drag show at one of our favorite bars, Sidetrack. You see, Fernando and I met in the stripper cage at Sidetrack a couple weeks ago and it was the happiest day of my life!

To get the party started, we sipped a few cocktails before catching a cab to the bar.  I make a mean apple martini! As you can see, Fernie is a wee bit smaller than I am. I sometimes forget that he gets tipsy quicker than I do when we’re a few martinis under the wagon.

So anyway, we headed over to Boystown around ten-o-clock  and the cab dropped us off a block away from Sidetrack. As I was pulling a twenty out of my wallet, some douchebag came running across the street at a million miles an hour.

It all happened so fast. The first thing I remember was a flash or rage and passion. The douchebag ran smack into my darling Fernando and didn’t even say he was sorry. Fernando was lying on the ground, moaning in a painful drunken stupor.

The next thing I remember is my fist making contact with the douchebag’s eye. God that stung.

I thought I had him. I really thought I had him. I’m so freaking embarrassed about the whole ordeal. It’s hard for me to even talk about. But my therapist says I should be more open with the world. I’m working on it, okay? Okay?!

Fast forward to this morning… and here’s what I look like now.

I’m hideous. Absolutely hideous! I’m missing a foot, missing a hand, and I have no idea where the chunk in my back went to.

Fernando dragged me back into a cab and back to his place after that douchebag kicked the crap out of me. I just tried to defend his honor and this is how the universe pays me back. The details are fuzzy and I’m glad that they are. I have no idea how he even stands to look at me the way I am right now.

My poor hand is unattached from my arm. And my arm is unattached from my body. Yes, I’m typing this blog post with one hand. Yes, this is taking me a very long time.

I am hereby making a plea to all of you gnomes out there reading this. Actually, I have two please. If you have any information about a douchebag who was running across the street at the intersection of Belmont and Clark last night at approximately 10:25pm, please respond to me ASAP. Dude’s gotta pay and I will see him face smashed into a million pieces if it’s the last thing I do. 

My second plea is one for medical attention. The only doctor here at The Gnome Abode is Dr. A. Chu. He’s more of an internal medicine specialist. I need a master surgeon to put me back together again. I’ve heard of some baby monkey prodige who’s operated on gnomes in the past, but I’m not sure I trust him. If any of you gnomes out there know of other surgeons taking new patients, I’d really REALLY appreciate it if you put in a good word for me.

Your victim of an random act of gnome violence and bottomless pit of self pity,
Alfredo The Gnome

This entry was posted in Injuries of Drunk Gnomes by Alfredo. Bookmark the permalink.

About Alfredo

OMG you have no freaking idea how excited I am to be a part of this drunk gnome blog! I have SO MUCH TO SAY! And SO MUCH TO DRINK! I spend most of my time sipping low calorie wine coolers. I have the most ginormous closet full of sexy gnomish outfits and props that I can’t wait to model for you. Today I’m sporting my spring outfit, complete with a daisy hat….because yeah I’m just THAT kinda gnome. I am super-dee-super adventurous patiently wait my turn for our Master/Goddess to select me as a travel companion. One of my arms falls off from time to time, but my gnomenurse says it’s just a flesh wound. I love you all already! HUGS AND KISSES!!!!!!!!!!!!

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