LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE DICKBAG HAS LEFT THE BUILDING, FEEL FREE TO DANCE IN AISLES...
Well, what can I say about what has been going on here as of late. I could say a whole lot, especially since this blog is now private I can pretty much say whatever the hell I want, and that makes me happy.
There are so many things that are either driving me nuts or they are making me laugh, or they are doing both. So where to begin. I don’t really know so I’ll just roll with the first one that comes to my mind.
The situation with the kid and his crush is now over. Not fun for me. Apparently, the guys that live in the same room as him could not take it anymore. His head had swelled to gargantuan proportions and they just couldn’t handle it anymore. He was walking around like his shit smelled of roses, and every girl on the planet wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of their days pleasing him. So they told him what was going on.
The best part was that he didn’t believe them. He had already convinced himself that he was the pimp of the nation and that there wasn’t a woman on this earth that could resist his charms. So they had to convince him. Which, to me, is absolutely hilarious.
However, they did steal my thunder and they are going to pay for that. I just have to hatch another devious plan to entertain myself with.
Which Pigpen and I have already done, but I cannot share it with you because some of my buddy’s here read this shit. And they are all targets of this one. We’ll have to see how this one works out. Don’t worry this one doesn’t involve destroying anyone’s self-esteem or will to live so it should be more fun.
Next thing. The article 15 thing is progressing through all the military machinations (bullshit) that it has to go through. And who knows what the Colonel who is in charge of this goat fuck is going to do to them. I guess I’ll let you know when I know.
Ah, I was reading the news the other day and it came out that the Army has recalled 80,000 or some ungodly number of plates from our bullet proof vests because they fail testing and cannot meet the standard of protection that we need.
Yeah, read that one more time. The fucking Army actually bought armor plates that are used to keep soldiers from dying, that are incapable of stopping a bullet. Well that really sucks, because last time I looked these Taliban pricks were not using slingshots! I find so many things in the military and the government in general so unbelievable that I just want to vomit.
Now if you remember way back to when I first started this whole thing I wrote a post about these plates. I called it, “Fragile, Handle With Care, Do Not Drop” It was all about the fact that the military had purchased subpar body armor for us in the first place and there was a better product on the market, but it was also a humorous post because the plates (that are supposed to stop bullets) came in boxes that were marked, “Fragile, Handle With Care, Do Not Drop” Which I have to admit I found hysterical, and depressing all at once.
However, now instead of just having subpar armor, now we are actually getting subpar armor that fails testing and has to be recalled. Alright, my first question is this...
WHY THE FUCK IS ARMOR THAT HASN’T BEEN TESTED BEING FIELDED IN A WAR ZONE WHERE SOLDIERS ARE GETTING SHOT AT, BLOWN UP, AND WHAT NOT EVERY GOD FORSAKEN DAY?
Now I don’t know yet if we even have any of this armor but some guys out there do. Risking their lives everyday, volunteering to serve this nation, giving up so much, and this fucking government won’t even buy us decent armor. Makes you just feel all warm and fuzzy inside, doesn’t it?
But at least in the continuing avalanche of shit that keeps falling on us there is a small ray of sunshine for us all. The Commander went someplace else today. I don’t know where, and quite frankly I don’t give a shit. All I know is that right now he is not here. Ladies and Gentlemen the dickbag has left the building. And that makes me so very happy.
And with that I am done. I don’t want to ruin the good mojo.
I love you mom...
WHAT’S A MOTTO? I DUNNO, WHAT’S A MOTTO WITH YOU?
So today the douchbaggery came down from on high. The MP regiment or some such shit that gets signed by a General asked us for a motto that reflected the future and the “Year of The NCO”, this motto is to serve as the regimental motto for the MP Corps during the year of the NCO thingy. They even went so far as to say that the guy who comes up with the winning motto will get a whole certificate, a coin and t-shirt. So basically what the higher ups are telling us is that they couldn’t come up with anything worth a shit and they didn’t want to hire an ad agency to do if for them, so we’ll ask you guys. Well too bad for them they asked a whole bunch of people who had caught a rather horrendous case of the phuckit. If they want a motto, it’s a motto they’ll get. So we came up with some motto’s, that would be offensive even to most degenerate mind. Why don’t we get started with a few of them...(my apologies but some of these will be hard to understand unless you are here with us)
The MP Corps, Fuck The police.
Here’s your theme, where’s my t-shirt.
MP NCO’s lead the way, Pakistan here we come!
MP NCO’s, we suck, but hey at least we’re not MP officers.
Where’s the war, I got my knee pads!
MP NCO’s its tough to give orders with a donut in your mouth.
If we leave at this time, we’ll be back by chow.
MP NCO’s, What morale?
Fuck hearts and minds, we have more guns than they do.
Play time is over, let the pain begin.
MP’s, it could be worse, we could be real cops!
It’s not fraternization if she is in another squad, right?
MP NCO’s, hey you, put your PT belt on.
MP’s, you aren’t supposed to be shitting there!
MP’s, only one person to a stall please!
MP NCO’s, hey you can’t go to war without your boots bloused.
MP’s, we may not fight worth a shit, but at least we look good.
Year of the NCO, form over function, HOOOAH!
Bloused boots and 5 bullets, We are ready for war SIR!
Year of the NCO, ground guide required at all times.
MP’s, we’re like the Cavalry, except with chicks.
The MP Corps, even our women have cool mustaches.
MP Corps, fuck up, move up!
MP Corps, Of The Troops, Fuck you!
MP Captains, masters of graphic design.
MP’s, Completely useless, but at least we’re trying.
MP’s, so how do you load one of these anyway?
MP’s, we don’t care if you’re a lesbian.
MP’s, where females eat as much rug as the guys.
MP’s, the prettiest girl in the company has a better mustache than all the guys!
MP women, we’re not whores, we’re just popular.
MP women, even the terps get a ride.
MP’s, still recovering from the scars of our childhoods.
MP’s, they give us all the same stuff as real soldiers.
MP’s, hey at least we’re not cooks.
MP’s, you will respect my authority.
Year of the NCO, being used as bait since 1775.
MP’s, because some dickbag had to do it!
MP’s, because 88M is too easy.
MP’s, the closest women can get to the infantry.
MP’s, because the infantry doesn’t like lesbians.
To any and all I have offended: I wish I could say I was sorry, but I just can’t, because I’m not.
I love you mom...
SOME THINGS JUST HIT TOO CLOSE TO HOME...
So I am sitting here listening to Dusty Springfield’s “Son of a Preacher Man”, and quietly contemplating my life. That is the worst thing about winter here, too damn much time to think. It snows and the air goes red and we can’t go anywhere. Not to mention, anyone who knows me will tell you, when I am left alone to think, nothing but bad things happen.
Now why did I call this, “Some things just hit too close to home”. Well I called it that because, well first of all it’s true. There are some things that we see, hear, or feel that hit just a bit too close. Secondly, I called it that because I saw something today that hit just a bit too close for comfort.
Like I say, this place affords me entirely too much time to think. Which is a bit funny because if you were to ask anyone who has known me for more than a day I used to be the type of guy that never thought things through. I was able to evaluate a situation, choose a course of action and run with it. All of which happened within a span of about 30 seconds. Now, and for the last few years I haven’t been able to make any decisions without thinking about them for so damn long that I waited too fucking long and then I missed my shot.
But these things happen, not to everyone, but they happen. Oh, by the way I could tell you what I saw but here again, that is something that I am going to keep just for myself.
You look back and you realize things, you realize what is truly important. You realize that there are debts that you owe to certain people and those debts will never be paid with money. The unfortunate part is that some of these debts can never be repaid regardless of what you do. Now comes the tricky part. How do you determine which debts are going to be paid, and which are going to be neglected? You can’t pay them all, there is just not enough life in your lungs to pay them all. So you have to decide which ones are going to get paid.
Who comes first? Why do they come first? And a million other questions...
Some of these debts you are born with, and others you accrue along the way. But the decisions remain the same. Which debt to pay, and when, and with what? These debts are born out of your life. They are not monetary debts so no bank account will help you with these. Some are to be paid in love, some are to be paid in time, some are to be paid in faithfulness, some are to be paid in humility, and some are to be paid in sweat, and some are to be paid with blood.
I know what my debts are. I know to whom they must be paid. Now comes the tricky part...
I am done for now.
I love you mom...
P.S. I know that may sound a bit cryptic, and after reading it again I don’t want to change a word of it. However, knowing the worry wart that my dear old mother can be I’ll leave you with this. No one was hurt or killed. Everyone’s fine.
WHAT I WILL REMEMBER MOST ABOUT THIS DEPLOYMENT...
The complete and utter boredom. There is no way around it, this is some of the most mercilessly boring time I have ever spent on this earth. Thank God I have this, otherwise I would probably shoot someone.
Of course the Army always gives me plenty of fodder for this little publication of mine. The latest being a “sensing session”, which is basically a gigantic bitch fest that is controlled by a few officers from battalion who come down to see whether the troops are being taken care of or not. Now the whole idea behind one of these is noble enough. I can see why they would want to do it. No commander wants his troops to be so disgruntled that they can’t function, but what actually happens when one of these things goes off is usually a huge steaming pile of monkey spunk.
So I am outside smoking a cigarette by our trucks, freezing my balls off, and this captain walks up to me. He is a Chaplain, the military’s version of Priests. And he asks me if I have an hour to spare. I couldn’t come up with any viable excuse for not doing whatever he wanted, which he hadn’t told me yet. I mean if he were a regular officer I just would’ve lied to him, however he’s a Chaplain and that would be really bad karma. Kind of like lying to a nun.
So he tells me he needs us for this sensing session. Oh joy, now we get to go in there and all the young guys who don’t know how this whole thing works will either bitch about the most inconsequential bullshit, or they will actually complain about real issues, and then it gets even worse.
Some commanders are able to accept criticism. Some are not. I don’t know exactly how this commander is going to react to the issues presented to him after the sensing session, but if previous actions are any indicator, it’s not going to be good.
I think that whichever way he goes this is going to be memorable. Which way he turns will determine a lot about my opinion of the man. Which leads me to the next memorable thing that happened, and this one freaked me out.
You all know that I got myself into a little bit of a shitstorm with the First Sergeant over my blog. He didn’t like that I was disrespecting commissioned officers. Which I guess is wrong, and I know that I did. So be it. He did, however, read the part about me thinking of becoming an officer. Which he got a kick out of, and has been giving me a load of shit about it ever since he read it. Which is fine with me, because he can get as well as he gives and that is one of the marks of a real man if you ask me.
So today he was walking with the commander and I was leaving the computer lab, and as he was walking by he jokingly raised his hand to salute me. Now not being able to resist I said, “You know what First Sergeant, when I get my commission you are the first one I am going to find to get a salute from!”
To which he replied, with no small amount of sarcasm, “I ain’t never fucking saluting you, no matter what rank you are.”
Well, allow me to retort, “Yeah, and then I’ll make you push!” To which he couldn’t help but chuckle.
Now the commander was right there for this entire exchange and by the time he turned and said something to the First Sergeant about it, which I can only imagine was a confused, “What are you guys talking about?”
The First Sergeant answered him, I have no clue what he said, but the commander promptly waved me over. To which I quietly said to myself, “Fuck!”
So putting on my most respectful aura, I walked over and began what I thought was going to another debacle in the never-ending saga that are my conversations with officers.
However, it went completely different than I expected.
He asked me what was going on. I told him about my plans for OCS. (He is obviously still totally ignorant of my blog)
He responded to that revelation thus, “I think that is a great idea, the best officers are always prior enlisted men.”
Alright, now I am off balance. This is not the way I am accustomed to officers responding to news such as this. Before I could say anything he continued.
Him: “Have you graduated from college?”
Me: Yes Sir.
Him: Are you going to continue your education?
Me: Of course, I think I might like to learn to speak Arabic.
Him: That’s a great idea, that won’t help you here though.
Me: I understand that but with the world being the way it is, and the middle east being such an important part of the world stage right now I think Arabic is the way to go.
Him: You are probably right. (That freaked me out, him saying I was right)
Me: So I am hoping to go back to school, possibly at UIC when I get home.
Him: Have you ever thought about going to ROTC while you do that?
Me: Nah, I figure that I could go to OCS when I get home so that instead of going back to work and leaving again I could just stay gone and go back to work later on.
Him: That is probably a good idea, but consider this...
Now thus far the commander who I have disrespected in some ridiculous ways in my writing has been supportive, even encouraging of my aspirations. All of these are human traits, and neither of which are abilities I thought he had, I wasn’t even sure that he was human. So I have been wrong about him on those two points at least. Next up, and this part really freaked me out, and for expediency’s sake I am going to paraphrase our conversation.
He told me that if I were to go back to college I should consider ROTC because of a few different things. First, it allows me two years as opposed to two months to adjust to being an officer, and it gives me two years as opposed to two months to alter my mentality from that of an enlisted man to that of an officer. Second, it allows me much more contact with officers who are already in the positions that I hope to achieve so it would give me a better knowledge base from which to draw. Lastly, ROTC focuses mainly on the education that officers need to perform their duties whereas OCS focuses mainly on the initiation into the officer corps, and then the education comes on the job. The point being that I would be better prepared for the challenges of being an officer with the extra time and education as opposed to the initiation and on the job training.
Well, holy jumping fucking shit balls! Now he has just ruined my perception of the world and has sent my brain into a tailspin. What I mean is this, I knew that the man had to have at least half a brain to graduate from college and become an officer and rise to rank of captain without fucking up. But I must admit, I didn’t have a whole lot of respect for his intelligence. Without being too egregious, some of the things he has done did point to an inferior intellect. However, that was a cogent, and relevant piece of advice from someone who has been through the entirety of the process of what I want to do.
Not to mention, it shows a surprising amount of concern over a soldier. I mean a commander, even good ones, are busy and normally do not have time for this sort of exchange. So now my world is not spinning as it should. My commander showed himself to be concerned, encouraging, supportive, and pensive. I had no idea exactly how to deal with this.
So I told him that I would consider what he said, however I didn’t think I could pull it off. I do have a full time job that I have to get back to. Those damn inmates aren’t going to watch themselves, not to mention I miss the entertainment.
I have to think about this some more, and I have to watch what happens for the remainder of my time here. However, there is no way around it. At least in some respects, I may have been dead ass wrong about the commander. I’ll keep you posted as to how this one plays out.
Now I am done,
I love you mom...
MISSION? WHAT IS THIS MISSION OF WHICH YOU SPEAK?
So the weather has finally cleared, which means we are back to mission status. So we’ve got a mission today, out to some village, somewhere. Go find the Taliban, uh wait, just drive out there be a big, moving target and then come back. That is basically what we do here. Fun for us.
So my squad leader busts up into my room this morning at like 0700. Now I didn’t go to bed until like 0100 thinking that this was going to be bullshit anyway, and all I have to do today is drive. Easy enough right? Well he gets us up and tells us that we have to be up and at the trucks by 0800. So I think that maybe we really get to go and have at least a little bit of fun away from our prison, err FOB, today.
So we get out there and we got everything ready only to be told that we are on fucking stand by. Which means get it all together and then begin the waiting process. So here it is 1130 now and I am about to go eat my lunch. And we still are not going anywhere. I wonder if the Taliban knows that a little rain or snow can bring the US Army to a screeching halt?
Ah, time for some sarcasm. I have been writing a little too timidly as of late. Part of it has to do with some of the things I have been thinking about, but the other part comes of the situation with this blog. So the hell with it, only you guys get to read this stuff so fuck them, am I right?
This war is really starting to piss me off. We sit here right in the middle of Taliban land. We have all these trucks, all the guns, and all these kids that are full of piss & vinegar and we don’t do a whole helluva lot with it. That just seems stupid to me.
I said before that this whole thing seems like a big game of “hold what you got”, whereas it should be a game of, “we are going to kick the ever living shit out of you and laugh as you fall!” You see I have been reading a book lately, it’s called “Beating Goliath, Why Insurgencies Win” It’s written by some guy who is a professor at the US Air Force Air War College. Now that right there is enough for me, chances are good if he is a professor there that he knows his shit when it comes to warfare.
I haven’t gotten too far into the book yet, but the ideas are thoroughly depressing so far. The basic premise is that a country that is large and powerful (The United States), sometimes loses to an inferior power (The Taliban, Al-queda, and others) due to a lack of political will on the part of our government and the people of the country.
This sucks balls if you ask me. I have already told you what I thought of Iraq (total bullshit), but this one is the good one, this is the real one, this is the one that we have to win, this is the one that we can do some good, this is the one that requires us to see it through to the end.
This is one that in my mind is the most beautiful set up for a war that there could ever be. You have an oppressed people, you have an identifiably evil enemy, and you have an unabashedly horrible catalyst or act of war with which to begin the conflict (9/11) So what the fuck is the problem?
Why is it that some segments of our government lacks the political will to defeat this enemy and win this war? And do not give me that Democrat/Republican bullshit because there are hawks and doves on both sides of the aisle.
I just don’t understand. Why there is such a debate over whether to send more troops here? Get their asses here, and we will end this thing.
In my mind there is a simple solution to the problem, it’s not easy but it is simple. Do this, bring so many fucking guys here that soldiers are asshole to elbow. Bring so many troops here that you can hardly walk without bumping into a GI. Bring so many guys that the Taliban cannot even jerk off with spooging on an M-4! (All right, that was a bit crass)
Lock it down, the border (both of them), pepper it with so many soldiers that there is no way the Taliban could get back over the border.
But what do we actually do? We rely on all our little techno-toys. We figure that we can secure the border with a bunch of those unmanned flying whatever the fucks. Well sorry folks, it is going to take good old fashioned boots on the ground to win this one. Soldiers, we need so may damn soldiers that this place has more Americans than Miami.
Once you do that, you can get to work on all the shit that really matters. The schools, the roads, the infrastructure, the hospitals, and all that shit. However, until you secure this joint, none of that other stuff is going to work, and what is more important, until you secure this joint the people aren’t going to help you because they don’t think you can protect them from the Taliban. With the current state of affairs we really can’t.
All this depresses the shit out of me. The fact that our war, our battle, the great test of my generation is being stolen from us by a group of bloodless, lifeless, and cowardly politicians. Fuck them guys.
Now I am done.
I love you mom...