The Day I Punched Out Jesse Ventura

I punched Jesse Ventura in the face and knocked him out cold.

How did it happen?

It was at a book signing for his book I Ain’t Got Time to Bleed.  I remember it well cause it was just one month and 4 days after my 23rd birthday.  The smell of springtime still lingered in the air.

I remember (vividly) that when it was my turn to have my book signed, I told Mr. Jesse Ventura my name and he looked at me and said “Cudnoski.  Why, that ain’t a pollock name, is it?”

I said yes, though others have commented that it was also a good Irish name.

He then cocked his head (or re-cocked it; it had already been cocked a bit at the start) and told me, blatantly, fervently, and apparently with some thought, that although he himself, Jesse Ventura, had served under the Lithuanian Grand Duke Jogaila (Władysław II Jagiełło), during the Jagiellon dynasty (1386–1572, he now felt that the soldiers he served with, though dead for over 600 years, deserved yet to die, those who were still alive!

I shuddered.  Then I swung.  I hit the old man (this being 2000 he was only 740 some years of age though considered aged by some) clean in the face, breaking both his nose and my hand in the process.

Realizing instantly that I had just committed a felony, I scurried, scampered and skipped out the door and into the street, then on to places untold.  I was fortunate that nobody else in the book store saw what had happened because they were all drunk.

I was also surprised that Jesse Ventura never pressed charges for assault against me.  Although he had just written my name in a copy of his book that I had left behind in the confusion, and my face was well known in the community for my involvement in the ‘End Meaningless Protests Now’ movement (the father of the Occupy Wall Street I have been called), I was lucky enough to escape the law for all this time.

The time for silence is over.

So is the statute of limitations.

Jesse Ventura, it was I, Chris Cudnoski, who punched you out in front of hundreds of witnesses and got away scot free, having heard nothing about the event though I have scoured every tabloid and searched every google engine for either my name, my face, or your face and my fist.  I am the one who should be famous right now, not you.  I demand to be famous!

Thanks.

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3 Comments

  1. Bear with me here…. where exactly am I supposed to post my Ventura story? Just in a reply here? Or maybe over there somewhere?

    Reply
    • Don’t worry – this is one of the most common questions we receive here at ipunchedoutjesseventura.

      It’s easy! Just tell your story to the best of your recollection (don’t worry – we won’t fact-check you or anything dumb like that) and we will post it for you FREE OF CHARGE at ipunchedoutjesseventura.wordpress.com.

      Reply
      • It has taken me so long to contribute this story because I had to wait until it actually didn’t happen before I submitted it. Now, since I live by the NAP and I don’t like pain, I did not actually punch Jesse Ventura, but as a female I have always wanted to do one of those splashing a dramatic throwing my drink in his face things you see in the movies often. I don’t know if it counts, but here goes…

        I wasn’t completely sober when the story began. I had had just a couple, but a couple is more than enough for me. It was a damp, chilly autumn night, the type of night perfect for a hoodie and walk in the woods. I was minding my own business, I wasn’t hurting anyone, just casually strolling towards the woods. Then I heard the music. I have always had a bit of a problem with the music, I mean… It’s not like I can just not listen… I heard it, it was saying ‘Come on babe, follow me…. I’m the pied piper, trust in me…’

        Really, what’s a girl to do in such a situation? I followed the music right into a smoky hole in the wall pub in some back alley before the trail I usually use to take to the woods. No one seemed to notice my entrance, which pleased me…. That meant no one would bother me as I got comfortable by the jukebox…. Or at least that’s what I thought….

        As I frantically searched my pockets for quarters so I could play a song for whoever was kind enough to play Pied Piper for me (all songs are played for me in my head) I felt someone tap on my shoulder as he said,

        “Excuse me, miss…”

        I knew that voice. I would have known it anywhere. Jesse. Ventura. My arch nemesis.

        “Can I help you?” I asked as I turned around slowly to face him.

        “What do you know about Area 51?” He demanded.

        I knew this day would come. I had information on Area 51 that he wanted and he knew it.

        “I’m sorry, do you think you could possibly refrain from talking over the music, I’m trying to get lost here…” I replied.

        “Fine, let’s sit down, get a drink and wait for this song to be over and then you can tell me. I need to know what you know” He said.

        I reluctantly agreed…. Only to get him to be quiet for a few minutes.

        We sat for a while and I pretended I was jamming with my friends. After a few songs went by he started in again…

        “What is it?” He demanded. “What do you know?”

        I sighed, and tried to think of a polite way to say
        “You can’t handle what I know.”

        I started beating around the bush and he slammed his fist down on the table,

        “Don’t play dumb innocent girl with me….” He yelled. “I know you know something.”

        I was about ready to get up and walk out when Neil Diamond came on the jukebox and started singing Kentucky Woman, I don’t like it very much when people aren’t quiet for that one. I tried telling him that, I tried telling him to let me listen to Neil and then I would proceed but he kept yelling….imagine that…. Yelling over Neil Diamond….

        It was more than I could handle. Only one person in the whole world would think their voice is more important than Neil Diamond and that would be Jesse Ventura, and I was sitting right across from him as he ruined Kentucky Woman for me. How in the world am I supposed to know if I really want to be a Kentucky Woman while Jesse Ventura is yelling at me over the song?

        I grabbed my drink, lifted it up as though I was going to take a drink but splashed it right in his eyes instead. It was a movie perfect scene and as he yelled in confusion I grabbed my sweatshirt and ran out of there as quick as I could with my secret knowledge on Area 51 still a secret only I know. I ran to the woods as fast as I could and only looked back once to see him fall over as he chased after me.

        I should have stayed home that night; instead I threw my drink in Jesse Ventura’s face, almost spilled my secret on Area 51, jammed to Pied Piper, and set Jesse straight on Neil Diamond.

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