They Said It Better Than I Ever Could...

These words that I write, they keep me from total insanity. -Charles Bukowski

Who is the happier man, he who has braved the storm of life and lived, or he who has stayed securely on shore and merely existed? -Dr. Hunter S. Thompson

Oct 30, 2008


Just a little something I wanted everyone to read...I thought it might be appropriate.


-- written by Max Ehrmann in the 1920s --

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

Pack, Pack, and Pack, Then Re-Pack, Dump It All Out And Start Again...

So we are almost gone now. Out of Fort Bragg for a good long time. We are heading to Afghanistan in a few and we have to pack up all our shit to get out of here.

Now we are going to be gone for a long time. Figure about a year. Now in order to make it through a year you are going to need a lot of stuff. Am I right? Now we are only being allowed to take 2 bags that weigh 70 pounds or less. 140 pounds of stuff to last us an entire year. Oh Joy. You should see this place, people are throwing away all kinds of good stuff. If there was an eBay seller around they would make a fortune off of the shit we are throwing away.

The real issue starts somewhere about a week or so ago, prior to us going on leave. When they told us that we would be allowed 3 bags of stuff that weighed 70 pounds a piece. Not bad and truth be told, if I know ahead of time I can deal with anything. I would've made it work. I would've had my family send me shit, I would've bought it there, whatever. But I figured I had three bags to use, I could bring all this stuff with me. So I did.

Then they tell us today, (I can't tell you when) but ridiculously close to us flying out of here that we can only have 2 bags and we have to figure out how to shove one bags worth of shit into the other two. Douche Bags.

Then after we did that they told us that we had to make sure this, that and the other had to be in one bag and all the other shit had to be in the other. Oh Joy. How much fun can one guy have. I swear to everything holy that this company makes me want to kick kittens into a blender.

I mean really, they have to leave all this shit until the day before we leave! Brilliant.

Alright, now I digress. I am all done with the pissing and moaning for today.

I don't know what is worse, going to Afghanistan, or going with these bogs o' douche that we have in charge. Either way the suck will be embraced and we will all have quite a time.

All in all I packed 4 times for the same trip. Enough said.

Not that anyone really cares about all that but hey, I figure that I will let everyone know all about all the stupid little shit that happens as I stumble my way through this government mandated, all expenses paid, trip to Afghanistan as a paid enforcer of American foreign policy.

So I must say that the response to my last few posts was nice and I will attempt to respond to all of you but I have exactly no time for much of anything. I am writing this when I should be asleep.

Moving on, 5 days left until the election. Take your asses to the polls. Don't miss out on this one folks. This is going to be a fun one. Everything old versus everything new. Who's going to pull this one off?

But either way, the dog's used to it...


I love you mom...

Oct 28, 2008

What's Been Going On In My Head...

Someone asked me what's been going on in my mind...Here's what's been happening...

So we have been back here at Bragg for two days now and there hasn't been much to do. Nothing, really. I mean we had to take one of those nice military photographs standing in front of the American flag looking regal and mean all at once. Funny part is, the photo is not for our families or anyone like that. It is for our file in case we get killed so that mortuary affairs can try to put us back together before they ship us home.

Other than that there has been nothing. So I have filled my time poking around the internet, playing video games, watching movies and reading the news. The news in the unfortunate part. I really should've known better than to read the news.

First let me begin this by saying that the news I have been reading is mostly about the presidential campaign. Which has provided me with infinite amounts of entertainment because of the fact that I am in the minority here in the military in that I am an Obama guy. So it has been fun to watch all these die-hard Republicans losing their minds as they watch helplessly as the election is all but decided here in this the last week before the big dance.

I would venture a guess and say that about 90-95% of the military is firmly in the Republican column, whereas I, am on the other side of the debate which has led to many in my platoon referring to me as a "tree-hugging hippy" Which is a moniker that I wear with a bit of irreverent pride. Kind of a little "fuck you" to all these guys.

Now I don't really give a shit either way who you vote for, but this year the whole voting thing has taken on a whole new meaning for me. I am not going to get all preachy and goofy, all I am going to say is...VOTE. Early and often, woops a little too much Chicago coming out in that one.

It is kind of funny watching all the guys here and listening to their beliefs about the world and the things going on in it. Needless to say they have some very, "Nuke 'em all" kind of views on most of the world. I can't help but wondering if I am a little off kilter. I mean, someone said to me today, if you aren't a liberal when you are 21 you have no heart, but if you aren't a conservative when you are 30 then you have no brain. I did it in reverse order.

If you would've talked to me at 21 you would've sworn that I was a dues paying member of the Nazi party. I mean I didn't have an ounce of sympathy for anyone or anything. Fuck them all, was the order of the day for me.

Then I got out into the world and I realized that people are just people. They all want the same things, for the most part. Sure there are some bags o' douche out there but most people just want to be safe, have a chance to make a living and give their families a decent life. I also have a hard time believing that there isn't enough stuff in this world to give those things to all of them.

Black, white, blue, brown, purple, or fucking polka dot everyone at their core wants the same shit. I have seen quite a bit of this world, and I have seen just about all of it, and after this little jaunt I will have seen about all of it. The world over, the problem has nothing to do with any color other than green.

Money, is the beginning and end of all this shit. People can call it whatever they want, money, power, control...whatever. All it comes down to is who has what and how much do they have. The sheeple out there, want to believe that everyone who is a different color than them is the enemy. They don't realize that the only color that has ever mattered is green.

You see if you ask me, the rich point out every difference. Race, religion, sexuality, and whatever else they can think of to keep us...(all the non-rich) from uniting against them. They know that they can keep us in line as long as they keep us afraid of each other and fighting amongst ourselves, so that they can keep on running to the fucking bank.

Fairly simple technique, happens to work.

Now if I could just convince a few people of this then we might be in business.

I have entirely too much time on my hands. Sooner or later something has got to happen so I can stop thinking about this kind of shit all the time. I am giving myself a headache.


Mom, I love you...

Books For Soldiers...

Alright, so I am a voracious reader. I love it, give me a book and I won't bother anyone for a while. Give me a book and I won't bother to write in this thing for a while. So save yourself some trouble and go to this website:

Books For Soldiers/

And donate to them. Give them money, give them books. Help all our soldiers, sailors, airmen, and marines feed their minds. A lot of us need the help...

Oct 27, 2008

Something To Chew On, Tell Me What You Think...

Something that one of my friends sent to me that coming from him surprised the shit out of me because he is usually drunk. But I love him anyways. So read it and tell me what you think.


A chemistry professor in a large college had several exchange students in the class.

One day in class, the Professor noticed one young man (an exchange student) who kept rubbing his back, and stretching as if his back hurt.

The professor asked the young man what was the matter. The student told him he had a bullet lodged in his back. He had been shot while fighting communists in his native country who were trying to overthrow his country's government and install a new communist government.

In the midst of his story he looked at the professor and asked a strange question. He asked, 'Do you know how to catch wild pigs?'

The professor thought it was a joke and asked for the punch line. The young man said this was no joke. 'You catch wild pigs by finding a suitable place in the woods and putting corn on the ground. The pigs find it and begin to come everyday to eat the free corn. When they are used to coming every day, you put a fence down one side of the place where they are used to coming. When they get used to the fence, they begin to eat the corn again and you put up another side of the fence.

They get used to that and start to eat again. You continue until you have all four sides of the fence up with a gate in the last side. The pigs, who are used to the free corn, start to come through the gate to eat, you slam the gate on them and catch the whole herd. Suddenly the wild pigs have lost their freedom. They run around and around inside the fence, but they are caught. Soon they go back to eating the free corn. They are so used to it that they have forgotten how to forage in the woods for themselves, so they accept their captivity.

The young man then told the professor that is exactly what he sees happening to America . The gov ernment keeps pushing us toward socialism and keeps spr eading the free corn out in the form of programs such as supplemental income, tax credit for unearned income, tobacco subsidies, dairy subsidies, payments not to plant crops, welfare, medicine, drugs, etc. while we continually lose our freedoms - just a little at a time.

One should always remember: There is no such thing as a free lunch! Also, a politician will never provide a service for you cheaper than you can do it yourself. Also, if you see that all of this wonderful government 'help' is a problem confronting the future of democracy in America , you might want to send this on to your friends. If you think the free ride is essential to your way of life then you will probably delete this email, but God help you when the gate slams shut!

In this 'very important' election year, listen closely to what the candidates are promising you - just maybe you will be able to tell who is about to slam the gate o n America ...

'A government big enough to give you everything you want, is big enough to take away everything you have.' - Thomas Jefferson

And Now I'm Back, But Don't Worry The Dog Is Used To It...

Well this truly sucks. I got back to Fort Bragg about 2330 last night. I tried to put it off for as long as was humanly possible. I didn't want to come back here at all.

I had a good week of leave to say the least. I spent entirely too much money, I drank entirely too much booze, and ate entirely too much food. But at least it was good food, the booze is always wonderful, and the money...well it's just money, I'll make more.

So now it really begins. I have said that a few times before but it didn't really carry the urgency that it does now. In a few days we are leaving for a war zone. A war zone that will be my home for quite a while. But whatever, It is what it is, and I have to do what I have to do.

That, and I got to do the whole tearful goodbye thing, AGAIN!!! That's like the third fucking time. But I have to thank the mom for not making it that hard on me. She kept the water works to a minimum at least while I was around. Good looking out Mom!

Needless to say this little homecoming (if you can call this a home) is bittersweet. Its good to see all the guys, but it sucks that I am back at Bragg and on my way to Afghanistan. But hey, I signed the contract so I don't have any room to bitch. But I am going to do it anyways.

So what did I do on leave? Well Missy, I did visit one of those "clubs" and I spent a, how shall I put this? SHIT TON OF MONEY. At least one nice young lady is not going to have to worry about tuition for "nursing school" next semester.

I don't really know how I feel about all of this. There is a part of me that sees this as the next grand adventure in this totally fucked up ride that I refer to as "my life". Then there is the other side of me that thinks, this is easily the dumbest thing I have ever done.

Oh wait. I got to see pigpen again last night, and he shared with me a little story that made me laugh. I am going to tell the story in reverse. We begin our tale with the last line...

A nice young lady says to me, "Don't worry the dog is used to it"

So Pigpen corners me last night, and sits down on the corner of my bed and tells me that he has a story he wants to tell.

So he went on pass 4 days prior to the rest of us, because he was one of the bags o' douche that volunteered to guard all of our shit while we were gone on leave. So he went out there into Fayetteville and found himself a nice young lady with whom to spend his time.

So on one particular evening he was out imbibing large amounts of sex appeal in a glass, and he went back to this young lady's place of residence and played a few drinking games with her. Now after a bit of that she passed out on her bedroom floor, or seemed to have passed out on her bedroom floor. So pigpen, even though he is a dirty little shit, is a gentleman, and he proceeded to help the nice young lass into her bed by picking her up and placing her into her bed and tucking her in.

She thanked him by reaching out and grabbing the daddy button. Now I will spare you all the gory details, but suffice it to say, the young man performed admirably. Or so he says.

Later in the morning after everyone had slept for a few hours. She awoke and was still in the mood. She, in her ignorance of who Pigpen is, challenged his libido! Now, and rightly so, Pigpen felt compelled to defend himself. And in his zeal to defend himself Pigpen became what some might refer to animal.

And he proceeded his thing, and shake the foundations of this girls home. While mid coitus, he noticed that this girl's little dog, who was currently located underneath the altar o' love called the bed, was yelping uncontrollably as Pigpen did his thing.

In his concern over the state of the dog, he said, "I feel sorry for the dog". Now this nice young lady with whom Pigpen had had such a wonderful evening and morning, whom he drank and ate and played drinking games with, and whom Pigpen thought so highly of stated, "Don't worry, the dog's used to it."

Now if that ain't the greatest answer to a question ever, I don't know what the hell is.

Also, forgive me for telling such a graphic story I hope that I didn't offend anyone, I just thought that was hilarious.

So I am back, everything is cool, and I hope to have a million more funny stories to tell soon. Right now I will refrain from telling my own due to the fact that my wonderful and loving mother is in the process of reading my entire blog. Oh Joy.

Anyways, be good.

I love you mom...

Oct 20, 2008

Home Is Where The Heartbreak Is...

I just got home yesterday. First and foremost I would like to say that my last post was partly right, and mostly wrong. My unit managed to finagle us over a week of leave instead of just a 4 day pass. Which is orgasmic to say the least. I have to give them credit for that. However, they followed the steps to a T, on how to get us to work our balls off in order to get everything done prior to putting us on leave. Then they went so far as to release us at 2200 which is a full 2 hours prior to them having to let us go. I just wish our commander had like a 1900 flight, then we would've gotten out of there wicked early.

I also managed to rent a truck for the trek up to Raleigh from Fort Bragg. Which was an adventure in and of itself. I mean stick 5 soldiers who have been cooped up on top of about 200 other guys for over 6 weeks and then finally let them loose with a bank full of money and a lot of pent up "energy" and things are bound to get a little weird. Suffice it to say that we had fun, and I will keep my thoughts on that night to myself, at least until the statute of limitations runs out.

Next I would like to say thank you to all the nice people at the "Office Tavern" in Raleigh, North Carolina. You guys were wonderful to us, you kept us drinking and kept us out of trouble for the most part. And a special thanks to Renee or Amanda for letting us crash out at your place and not making us sleep in the truck in the airport parking lot. Maybe in a year or so we'll swing back through and buy you a beer or two.

Now I am home. Mixed emotions to say the least. I am incredibly happy to be home with the family, but I realize that in about a week I have to do the whole tearful goodbye thing...AGAIN. This is like the third time for chrissakes.

Then there is all the shit I realize that I miss immensely. I miss the shower that I can actually turn around in. And the water actually has pressure behind it. I actually got some pop out of the refrigerator today, I haven't had anything really cold to drink in 6 weeks. I slept in a bed that is big enough for me. I slept in a place where I couldn't hear every little variation in the air sweeping over me like a wave. I slept in a place where I didn't have to listen to the symphony of snores, grunts, and farts that always accompany any group of soldiers sleeping in close proximity to one another. However, the best thing about my sleep this past night was the fact that I slept until my body said, "hey fatty, its time to get your ass out of bed" Nobody woke me up, nobody dragged me out of the bed yelling about vehicles or weapons or missions or blah, blah, blah.

Yet, the greatest thing I got to do was use the facilities. I mean, you can't believe how wonderful it was to sit in a room, big enough to actually sit comfortably in. In a climate controlled room so you weren't assaulted by either the cold or the heat or the rain or whatever else. Not to mention, I got to use the two-ply paper that feels so very wonderful... Finally, when it was all over, I got to flush. I didn't have to leave it there to stink up the joint. It's absolutely amazing how important some things could actually become.

Once again though, the heartbreak is there because as I hugged my mother, rode in the car, slept in the bed, sat on the throne, ate all the good food, enjoyed the dry living space and everything else. The only thing I could think was, "I only get this for a week" Well it sucks, might as well embrace it.

Next thing to do. A very special thanks to Airman mom for all the nice things she wrote about me. (She doesn't know me that well, haha) But she wrote a nice post about one of my posts, you can read it HERE.

That and thank you "Missy" for all the comments you have made, I got a bunch of my guys all signing up for, we can't sign up until we are in country though. I will probably shoot you a few of their names so you can send them stuff. You are a pretty sweet chick. (My apologies if the terminology used is offensive, just the way that I talk.)

Well moving on, I should have some more fun stuff to tell you guys in a couple of days. We are all getting together and going to one of those "gentlemen's clubs" later on this week. A bunch of soldiers who have been stuck in a tent with nothing but Army women around for 6 weeks! Should be quite a time.

Anyways, thanks again, I appreciate everything you guys do...

Love you, Mom.

Oct 17, 2008

I don't know what the hell to call this one...

Well today was our last day of real training. And I got to spend it sleeping. How fucking wonderful is that. I had to go to sick call today for that little burn that I suffered yesterday afternoon, and when I got back there was no one around to take me out to the training areas so I got to plant my ass in the tent, turn the air conditioner to "chicago winter" and I went to sleep! For like 8 hours, straight, with no interruptions. What better way to spend a day of training than horizontal, in your rack, with no one else around...

So now things are winding down here. They turned the lights back on for like the first time in about a week, everyone is running around in their PT uniforms (shorts and t shirts), everyone is clean, everyone is fed, and everyone is happy. Which, admittedly is bad for me because then nothing really funny happens because everyone is in a good mood and they are thinking straight. But we will be in country soon enough and the fun will begin again.

I took a 20 minute shower today, which I believe is the longest one I have taken since I got here. With the way things are in the military most guys have learned to just wash the 4 key areas. Armpits, asshole, crotch, and teeth. I have learned to save even more time by just using the same brush on all four areas but I digress on that one. (Note: That joke was stolen from the recently deceased, George Carlin)

My hand is fine, I got one little blister on my index finger and one big one on my middle finger. Other than that its fine, I can move it and everything. So no worries. Moving on...

Now all that is left for us here is to clean all this shit up. Which needless to say when a company of soldiers has lived on top of each other for six weeks the place gets mighty dirty. I mean my tent smells like a combination of kitty litter, gasoline and ass. We have 3 days in which to do this. Clean all of our own shit, clean all the company's shit, clean and turn in all of Fort Bragg's shit, and clean and turn in this FOB of ours. Suffice it to say that this is at least a week long operation. But the Army has an ace up its sleeve for this one and I swear that they must teach this little trick in Officer's school because I have seen this done about 100 times since I have been in the Army.

It goes like this...

Step One: Ensure that your soldiers know they have an extended pass beginning on a certain date. In our case the 19th.

Step Two: Finish training prior to that date. Make sure that the recovery operation (cleaning everything) will take at least twice as long as the time you have available.

Step Three: Make sure you circulate a rumor amongst your soldiers that if the recovery operations are not complete they will lose a day or two of their pass while the recovery is completed.

Step Four: Allow that rumor to circulate for about a week.

Step Five: Circulate another rumor that if your soldiers manage to complete 7 days worth of work in three days that their pass will begin at close of business the day prior to the actual pass beginning.

Step Six: Watch in absolute amazement as your soldiers think of some of the most ingenious ways to get things done that anyone has ever seen. And some of the laziest people you have ever met (namely, me) work their balls off to get things done.)

Step Seven: Go to higher command and take full and complete responsibility for the astounding manner in which your soldiers performed recovery operations twice as fast as any other unit in the brigade. Even though you spent your time getting a haircut, relaxing, and having other people carry your shit for you.

Step Eight: Forget about rumor number two and still release your soldiers at 0001 on the 19th...

This is how it usually goes but who knows maybe they'll prove me wrong, but I doubt it.

So next up is recovery which starts tomorrow, followed immediately by our four day pass, then its off to AssCrackIstan.

How much fun can you have in one lifetime? I don't know how everything is going to go from here on out. I have no idea about access to the internet after the pass is over, I have no idea about living conditions except for the fact that the Army calls them "austere". Which makes me laugh, who would use a word like that when the majority of the guys here are, like me, dumb-asses. I've said it before and I'll say it again, this deployment is a huge pile of unanswered questions. But I'll be fine, I am gonna be juuuuussssst fine.

So I guess this little adventure of mine is about to start. I, like all the soldiers here, have successfully embraced the suck of it all. Am ready, willing and able to fight this little tiff we've got going on over there. Hopefully you all stay with us. I have noticed that lately, and it depresses the living shit out of me. I was talking to a buddy of mine, and during the conversation I said, sarcastically, that "I am defending this land from all the evil in this world" and he shot back, "You ain't defending shit, you are making the big dogs money" Can I argue with that sentiment? Nope, not even a little bit. But it doesn't change the fact that some of the guys here haven't even gotten one piece of mail, they haven't called home once, and it seems like some of them are forgotten by the folks at home.

I know that this will never happen with me, but I wonder about the whole thing. Has America become so comfortable, and gluttonous, that we lack the capability to maintain our vigilance against this enemy and with our soldiers? I start to wonder...

Now make no mistake about it, I am just as bad as anyone about things like this. I sat around, drank beer and didn't do a whole hell of a lot for anything bigger than myself. I mean I joined the Army, but I did that for selfish reasons. Patriotism was part of it, but it was more about getting out of the house and getting some money. I admit that, and am accepting the consequences thereof. But now that I am part of this I realize why there is such a strong bond of camaraderie amongst soldiers. Its because for a good portion of us, this is all they've got. This is the only family they have. And its depressing to know that there is so little interest in what is going on over there back home. Unless it is something bad. But whatever, I don't pretend to be holier than thou. I am probably going to be one floor down from you in hell anyways.

But think about it sometime. When was the last time you did anything for someone other than yourself. I mean really did something, not just sent a $20 check to the fucking (insert random charity name here). I wonder what the world would be like if instead of saying that its always someone else's problem, each one of us stood up and took responsibility for one thing wrong in our world each and every day. I could go on forever with this shit, but maybe you could think about it. I don't mean to be preachy but it happens.

Maybe we could actually get some of this shit handled? Then again maybe not, there's probably a sale at the mall tomorrow anyways. Alright, we'll start this the day after...

Love you mom...

Oct 14, 2008

S.A.W. Barrels Are Hot, And Other Events In The Pain Olympics...

So today was fun. I burned the shit out of my hand because I was stupid.

And here is the story of just how stupid I am.

So there is this weapon called a S.A.W. or Squad automatic weapon. Basically, all it is, is a souped up M16 that fires a lot of bullets really, really fast. Now anyone with an IQ above 65 knows that when a weapon is fired at a high cyclic rate through a metal barrel, said barrel tends to get warm. Some would go so far as to characterize the temperature of the barrel as hot.

Now we had a mission today where we had to respond to some bags of douche attacking the front door of our little FOB here. So when we went out there I didn't have my wonderful Army issued gloves on due to the hasty manner in which I got my ass in the truck and moved out. So I was in the process of firing my SAW at about 200 rounds per 30 seconds or so, and lo and behold I ran out of ammunition. Thats the only problem with these machine guns. Lots of fun to fire. They make a lot of noise. I mean the thing is nothing more than a 17 pound, 5.56 mm extension of my penis. But this isn't the movies, when you spit that many rounds out of this thing you run out of ammunition quickly. Not fun.

So I yelled down to my driver for more ammunition and of course we didn't have any. Lovely. So I say the hell with it and reach down into the truck for the even BIGGER machine gun. My M240B which is the not even the biggest one that I've got, but it is my favorite. Fires a 7.62 mm round which is about the size of my ring finger (Note: I am a BIG boy) This is every little kids dream. You know when God sat down and said to himself, "I want a really big gun that holds a lot of bullets" This is the gun he came up with.

Well given the fact that only one big gun will fit on top of the trucks at a time I had to grab the M240 and bring it up to the roof, all the while being bent over at like hobbit height and trying to deal with these weapons which aren't at all light. Anyways, I get the 240 up to the roof and now I need to pull the SAW down. Now bear in mind the time between running out of ammo and grabbing the SAW is about 15 seconds. Not enough time for the barrel cool off.

So I grab the butt of the weapon, and I grab the carrying handle. No burns. Lovely. But then as I am trying to get this damn thing down into the truck and out of my way I banged the butt stock into something. God only knows what because I would have to destroy whatever it was. And the weapon comes free of my grip. Now in my frantic grabbing to get control of this weapon I manage to place my nice, coco butter soft palm right around the barrel of this thing.

I can only imagine the hilarity of the look on my face as my nerves and brain processed the searing pain that was overtaking me at the time. Probably a cross between the elephant man, and the kid in that Cher movie "Mask" But whatever.

Next came the stream of profanity that flowed from my lips like a river through a blown dam. I mean if I didn't know better I would have to say that some of the shit I said was actually in Hebrew.

Then I couldn't help but notice, as I watched the smoke wafting off of my hand and the blisters beginning to form, that it smelled like burnt popcorn. Nice, I am the fat guy that smells like food when he burns himself. Wonderful, I'll never hear the end of this shit.

Now all of this is over. We've driven off the enemy and are coming back and I am growling like a constipated grizzly bear. I make it to the medic station and the first thing they say is, "Why the hell did you grab the barrel?" Like I did it on purpose. Yes, Mr. Medic, I thought to myself this morning, "You know what would be fun, spending my afternoon in agonizing pain, I think I'll burn the skin off my hand today."

Well all is well. The burn wasn't as bad as I thought, and after a little first aid and burn cream and a rather large gauze bandage that makes my hand look like the head of q-tip I am good as new.

So couple that with the bloody stumps that I like to call feet, and the back spasms that have developed because of the massive amount of shit the Army seems to enjoy piling on my back. (Sometimes I wonder if a better word would be "pack mule" as opposed to "soldier") Not to mention the millions of cuts, scraps, bruises, blisters, zits, and miscellaneous other ailments that have befallen me, and all I can really think is..."Holy shit, I am actually getting old." Which makes me try all the harder just to prove I can hang with these 18 year old shitbags. Which makes me laugh, but I can't let them beat me, you know how it is.

Well enough of that. I had a pretty good day other than that. Mobilization is rapidly coming to a close and I will be making my just across the pond. Oh Joy!

So I hope everyone is enjoying their drinking and debauchery while I am off doing this shit, defending this nation. Yeah I mean you Paulie, you should be ashamed of yourself.

Mom, I love you...

Oct 13, 2008

Colony O' Dickbags...

I swear to everything holy that this company makes me want to kick kittens into a blender.

The aforementioned quote is courtesy of non other than PVT Pigpen (credit will be given where credit is due.)

So anyways, they came up with a whole new bag of douche today. Now prior to leaving our FOB we have to test fire our weapons on command. Now this is incredibly annoying due to the fact that we have enough shit to do in the morning and now we have to wait for our NCO's to pull their shit together long enough to get us all into a line and walk us through the loading and firing of our weapons. This makes me laugh if for no other reason than the fact that shortly we will be in a combat zone with some of the most advanced weapons in the world and we will be actually fighting a trained, motivated, and determined enemy. But we can't manage to handle our weapons when they are loaded with blanks, so they have to stand over us like children but whatever...

Next on the depressing list of developments is the fact that the one attractive female we have in this company has a mustache. I mean since I saw it she must've shaved it or waxed it or whatever the hell you ladies do to your mustaches, but I still can't see anything but that hairy mess on her upper lip. I mean, as long as I have the internet I'll be fine, but it was still nice scenery. Scenery ruined by the rather unfortunate development of man face. Pigpen says he'd still hit it. But that doesn't mean much...

Now onto the training we conducted today. God bless First Army. The trainers are from a unit called First Army. They wear a patch that is just a big A which we have determined does not stand for Army, it is nothing more than one large ASSHOLE. As the entire unit is a rather large bag of smashed assholes.

But today is Columbus day, federal holiday, 99% of the non-deployed Army is off today. But since we are mobilizing there will be none of that for us, and none of that for First Army's trainers because we need to be properly trained for our looming deployment to Afghanistan. However, the trainers from First Army had beer and BBQ's to get to so they could not be bothered to blow us up properly. The funniest part is all we have heard from these pricks since we got here is that they train us to standard not to time, however when beer and burgers are involved they kick us off the range at 1500. But I am not complaining that much it worked out for me.

Now we are sitting here waiting on the pizza guy from main post. It costs like $30 for a large pizza because the guy has to drive all the way out here. But at least I'll be enjoying my fatty pie in a few minutes. That is until the US Army drops its next bag of shit on my doorstep.

Love you mom...

Oct 10, 2008

Tent Cock, Defined...

In response to several requests for information I am posting the following video on and here so that all of you all can understand completely what exactly I was talking about when I described the "tent cock" in my previous post.


Oct 8, 2008

Tent Cock...

Today's post is all about our living quarters here at beautiful Fort Bragg, North Carolina.

We have one of those quonset hut tents, you know it looks like a pipe that has been cut in half sorta thing.

Well this thing has an air conditioner attached to it. Very nice considering Army living standards. So I am not bitching. Thank God for whoever thought to let us live in tents that not only have air conditioners but they have floors too! I mean I walked in and I popped a chubby just looking at the thing.

However, something funny happens every 15 minutes or so. We get a "tent cock". What is a tent cock? Well the air conditioner is connected to an air dispersion system that runs along the roof of the tent and has a whole bunch of holes in it so that the cold or warm air blows out into the whole tent.

So when this thing doesn't have air running through it all it is, is a plastic tube that is hanging from the ceiling. Kinda looks like a flaccid penis.

BUT WHEN THE AIR CONDITIONER KICKS ON! We get a tube that fills up with air and inflates and becomes engorged and resembles...? You guessed it, an erect purple headed yogurt slinger.

Now the funny part of this is the fact that my buddy Pigpen, every time this happens looks up at it and exclaims to no one in particular, "TENT COCK"

Now after a few times of doing this the rest of the squad got in on the act and we had a chorus of "TENT COCK'S" wafting through the tent and the immediate area.

Shortly thereafter, the other platoons picked up on the game, and started their own chorus of "TENT COCK" throughout the little base we have hear.

So at any given time, somewhere on this FOB, there is some squad whose air conditioner just kicked on, and you can hear it, if you listen real close, "TENT COCK"

Now maybe I have just been here too long, but I find it absolutely hilarious that today I was walking through a row of tents and on two separate occasions I heard the sound of the air kicking on, followed immediately by a chorus line of "TENT COCK" ...Fucking beautiful.

I love you mom...

Oct 6, 2008

We Lost Our First One Today...

Nobody died, so don't get all freaked out. Token went and got diagnosed with some severe sleep apnea and he is on his way back to the world. Or at least the main post of Fort Bragg and out of our company and lives for the next 10 or so months.

Lucky bastard! No more training, no more bullshit, no more nothing, and certainly no more trip to AssCrackIstan. But it still hurts watching him go. I am trying to figure out whether I am jealous that he gets to go home or do I feel sorry for him that he has to watch us go while he stays here.

I am sitting here typing this while he is laying on his rack next to me signing some paperwork that will get him the hell out of here. Looking at him I can't tell whether he feels good or bad about this whole thing. I guess that with two kids and a wife at home its a good thing. Regardless he is a soldier and he most likely wishes that he were going with us. But I don't wish this on anybody. This whole thing has sucked enough and we haven't even left the United States yet.

Needless to say, I have developed over my years in the Army a very keen appreciation for all things American. My friends, my family, my house, my job, my car, my food, my booze, and everything in between. Most Americans will never in their lives have anything taken from them. Soldiers, sailors, airmen, and marines the world over have not had anything taken from them. We gave it freely. Think of it for a while. Imagine being ripped from the arms of your loved ones, tears flowing like a river, taken from all the comforts of American life and thrust into a world that hates and wants to kill you. A world where you sleep, at best on a cot, lots of times on the ground. A world where the food is just one step up from pig slop, a world where you feel every bit of the biting cold, and every drip of the sweltering heat. A world where you spend every waking moment wondering if this is the corner or the time when you meet your maker. A world where you have to try to put your family and loved ones out of your mind or risk madness.

Maybe I am being dramatic. Maybe not. I am actually just glad that token gets to go home. I wish we could all go home...

I love you mom...

Oct 4, 2008

Whatever Sucks The Most...

So here is what just happened.  And this is what amazing douchebaggery goes on around in the military from time to time.  

Tomorrow is Sunday and the post commander of Fort Bragg has some goofy rule about no training before 0900 on Sundays or something like that.  But regardless the only thing that we have to do tomorrow is the roll over drills for the Humvee's.  (Which are pretty sweet, a fake humvee attached to some hydraulics and they sit you in it and then actually flip it over and you have to get out.  Fun stuff)

Well this shit isn't happening until 1800 tomorrow.  (6:00 PM)  But we still have to get up at 0600.  Well what in the hell is that?  I have to be up at the ass crack of dawn only to spend the entire day with my thumb up my ass.  

I mean really would it be too much to ask to be able to sleep until 0700?  Good God, its Sunday!  I have been training for like a month straight with not one day off and then AssCrackIstan is probably going to be a nice little 12 sojourn with no time off.  No, no there will be none of that.

Next thing...

We have answered one of the never ending questions that military life produces.  One thing that is constant, as a matter of fact the only thing in the military that is constant.  Change.  Everything changes, all the damn time.  And usually at the last minute.  Like tonight, we got attacked and our rally point was one place, and they changed it to another place...WHEN WE FUCKING GOT THERE.  Whatever...

So we answered the question.  What is going to happen next?  Soldiers ask forms of that question all the time.  What are we doing tomorrow?  What training is next?  Where are we going to eat chow today?  Are we going to have to stay here another night?

All forms of the same question.  What is going to happen next?

Answer:  WHATEVER SUCKS THE MOST!!!!  That is what is going to happen next.  Regardless of the situation, whatever sucks the most. 

I found that out for damn sure last night when we came back from the field.  Nice little 3 days of suck in the woods.  Smelling like an anchovie's asshole I wanted to jump in the shower wash the fumunda cheese off and go to sleep.  I get there and the whole shower is empty.  Not a soul in sight and I loved it.  I jumped in the shower, set myself up for a nice long shower, turned the water on, and the first drops hit my skin....and I screamed like a little girl, "Holy Jumping Jesus on a Pogo Stick, that's cold"  

Needless to say my manhood shriveled up like a stack of dimes.  Another example of it...Whatever sucks the most.

I am done now.  

Love you mom...

Oct 2, 2008

Pigpen Says...

So in my last post I introduced you to a guy I am here at Fort Bragg, and headed to AssCrackIstan With. PVT Pigpen. Well pigpen in addition to being a dirty little shit is also one of the funniest people I have ever met. He says some of the funniest things from time to time and he says them in such a fashion that if you aren't listening closely you would probably miss them. So much so that I have taken to writing them down.

He speaks in a very soft voice but he has a very forceful personality which by itself is amusing, but I would just like to share a few of the things he has said with you...

-Don't touch me there, you aren't my priest.

-I would like to cut out his vocal chords with a spoon.

-Do that again, and I'll stab you in the uterus.

-She can't say no if she's underwater.

-Do you ever wonder what fish would smell like if women didn't swim in the river?

-I've always said, "I'd rather be a good liver, than have one."

-If there's grass in the field, play in the mud.

-Take a plunger, stick it up your ass, and try to pick up a bowling ball.

-Daddy button (penis)

-Silence is golden, but duct tape is silver.

-Why would I lie to you? We're not dating!

Needless to say, when you have about 200 people in a company and about 98% are male the conversations are going to turn rather crude. Now some of that stuff was crude and if you are offended by it please read something else because it will most likely just get worse. And I don't care.

So today I managed to get stuck with guard duty all day. Guarding a locked trailer. I thought that was pretty funny because its like one of those double hasp, I would survive a nuclear blast, type locks. So I was wondering why I had to sit there and stare at the side of this trailer. But whatever, people who make a lot more money than me are making these important decisions.

Moving on...I am getting a 4 day pass coming up here soon. Another 4 days of drinking and debauchery prior to leaving for the 7th level of hell. So any donations would be greatly appreciated.

Finally a note to all my friends at 1205. I got your message the other night and I can't even tell you how much shit like that means to me. Just knowing that you all are thinking about me brings a tingle to my taint. If you don't know what that is, ask TJ. Thanks you guys.

Anyways, I'm fine, you're gonna be fine, we're all gonna be just fine...

Love you Mom...