Then he probably went off and slept with the dead guy’s ex-girlfriend just to be a dick. He calmly put down the beer mug he was polishing, drew his Colt Peacemaker revolver, sauntered outside, and dropped the punk with one shot. When she told him to go violent hump a chainsaw, he got pissed, went outside the saloon, and started shooting out this windows with his pistol. One of the babes that worked there had a crazy ex-boyfriend who had just been discharged from the Army, and this guy wanted her to stop working as a Hooters Girl and getting ogled by a bunch of middle-aged perverts. At one point during his colorful career, Holliday owned and operated a saloon in Las Vegas, New Mexico. Here's an example of why you didn't fuck with Doc if you knew what was good for you. His antics got him arrested on 17 different occasions, but he never served any serious jail time, which is also pretty fucking awesome. He got into fights, jumped at every opportunity to fire his six-shooter at varmints, horse thieves, and cattle rustlers, and never backed down from any man, any life-or-death situation, or any drink for any reason. The way Doc saw it, he was already going to die, so why not go down with guns blazing on the field of honor? He was a man with nothing to lose, so he just went completely balls-to-the-wall like a wild man all the goddamned time. He bounced around the West, stopping in lawless places like Dallas, Cheyenne, Dodge City, Leadville, Tuscon and Tombstone, getting into fights, sexing up hot babes, joining badass posses, and drinking all the opium-laced whiskey he could pack into his increasingly infrequently-utilized doctor's bag. Well Doc had to pay off his probably-astronomical student loans somehow, so he eventually decided to say, "fuck it," and settled into the life of a professional gambler and gunfighter. Apparently patients don't like it when sick doctors cough infectious diseases directly into their mouths. Holliday was a dentist by trade, but it turns out that it’s very difficult to practice dentistry when you suffer from an incurable, highly-contagious, highly-noticeable disease like TB that makes you constantly look and sound like you’re about to hack up a black lung at any moment. Hoping that the warm, dry climates of the Wild Wild West would prolong that "couple months" into something a little more substantial, Doc decided to move out to Texas and spend what little time he had left on this Earth being completely fucking awesome all of the time and shooting motherfuckers in the face whenever he damn well felt like it. In his short, eventful life wandering the American West in search of adventure, danger, and untreated cavities, the man known only as "Doc" would make a name for himself as one of the country's deadliest gunslingers.īorn in Georgia in 1852, young John Holliday came down with a severe (and at the time untreatable) case of Tuberculosis soon after graduating from Dental School, and was given a couple months to live. John Holliday, DDS was a man desensitized to even the most horrific bloodshed and violence. Plying his trade at a time when oral surgery resembled something out of the darkest chronicles of the Medieval Inquisition, Dr. Considering how many people out there are scared shitless by root canals and tooth extractions, holding the dubious moniker of "history's most fearsome dentist" isn't exactly a hollow accolade.
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