Huff Po - Bad things happen when you lay in front of an angry person’s car. Prosecutors said Christine A. Meyers’ boyfriend found that out the extremely painful way when Meyers ran him over, causing severe burns to [his] chest and back, and tearing the skin off his testicles, according to the Chicago Sun-Times. Meyers picked up her boyfriend from a bar and the couple started arguing as they drove to their home in Tinley Park, Ill. on Friday, court documents said. When they got home, Meyers’ boyfriend got out of the car and laid down in front of it, prosecutors said. That’s when Meyers allegedly purposely ran over her boyfriend, causing the aforementioned damage to the man’s anatomy. Meyers’ attorney, Tom Ost, asked Judge Adam Bourgeois Jr. to set his client’s bail at $6,000, meaning she would need to post $600 to leave jail, according to the Chicago Tribune. “Are you serious?” Bourgeois said in response. “You’re asking me to set a bond of $600 for driving over somebody? That is the charge.” Tinley Park Patch reports that Meyers is being held on $100,000 bail at Cook County Jail. She’s charged with one count of felony aggravated domestic battery.

I’m usually not the type to side with the girl after she rips her boyfriend’s ballsack to shreds, but I gotta be honest I’m Team Christine here. You wanna pretend this is Hollywood dude? You wanna lay down in front of the car to try and to stop her from drunk driving? Try to stop the love of your life from leaving like its an episode of some CW 11 teenage show? Be my guest bro. But this is real life. And in real life you get run over and get the skin ripped off your testicles. In real life drunk chicks who are pissed off don’t care that you’re laying in the street. You ain’t Gandhi bro. This ain’t civil disobedience. She’s shitfaced and after about 20 seconds probably forgot you were laying there in the first place.

I mean, I get it. Your girlfriend is blacked out and wants to drive him and you don’t want her too. But guess what? Chicks don’t like the pansy who’s drunk and crying worrying about her safety. Chicks are dumb. They want the bad boy that treats her like shit. They want the guy who acts like he doesn’t care if she dies in a fiery crash. Just tell her she’s free to go and that you’re going inside to order pizza. Guarantee she’ll come running. They’re simple creatures. Otherwise go ahead and try to pull some shit from The Notebook and you’ll get your scrotum ground up by the Michelin Man.