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

Oct 28, 2018

So There I Was...

No shit, ankle deep in baby shit, watching Fancy Nancy with my daughters and remembering the bad ass mother fucker I used to be.

But we'll get back to that. I've been prompted to get writing by family who tells me that they miss me writing. Well, I don't have a whole helluva lot to write about now. I'm just an average joe with an average job, I'm your average white, suburbanite slob...

So let's go back and write about a guy I used to know, We're going to go back about 10 years from now to 2008, to a place called Freeport, IL. Hole in the earth if there ever was one, but we're in the gymnasium of the National Guard Armory there and there's nothing but soldiers and we're about to embark on what might be the fucking funniest year of our lives...

"FALL IN" The platoon sergeant bellowed. He bellows a lot, he's a platoon sergeant. Look up self important in the dictionary and you'll see this guy standing behind a second Lieutenant shaking his head.

Then the trampling sound of 40 some pairs of boots hitting the floor over and over as all the soldiers of second platoon come running for wherever they had been prior to those magic words and into formation. So now you've got what was previously a gaggle of soldiers has now formed into those wonderful lines. Basically, for you civilians out there "fall in" means stand next to and behind someone until you are all next to and/or behind someone in nice little rows so you can be counted easily. Its one of the first dog tricks you're taught upon entrance into the US Army, which I will refer to for the remainder of this rag as "Mother Army" mostly because there were only two things in my life that abused the shit out of me, but I still loved...my mother and the US Army.

Anyway, the platoon daddy turns his head, looks at the first guy in the first row, also known as the squad leader and says, REPORT.

The guy looks back, he's not actually the squad leader, that guy is someplace else. Who knows where, he's a 6 we don't get to ask. Anyway, the faux squad leader says, 1st squad, all accounted for. Which is the answer you give when you've got no clue where everyone is. Truth be told, the report is typically fairly specific, at least it was in the regular army. It was usually something like this, "1SG, 2nd Platoon, 1st squad, 12 assigned, 10 present, one at sick call, one CQ off." or some shit like that. CQ is charge of quarters, basically the guys who answer the phone and make sure the drunks get back to their barracks rooms with only minor injuries all night.

This process repeats itself, 3 more times. Far as I can tell, we've got 33 of the 48 we're supposed to have. Not sure, really wasn't listening.

The platoon sergeant does the funny little pirouette, formally known as "about face" and stands at attention waiting for the Lieutenant to come on up. The lieutenant walks as fast as he can around from the rear of the formation, not gonna lie, he's got what my buddy Tony would refer to as a "duck butt" which is an ample bottom that protrudes far out from his backside making his gait a pretty funny thing to see, even more so when he's basically power walking like a soccer mom from the back to the front of this formation.

We've all got a pretty good idea of what's coming next. The commander walks to the front of the room and surveys his troops. You can see from the look of him that he's got a fairly high opinion of himself, but it doesn't change the fact that he's a 4 eyed douchbag if there ever was one. More to come on that.

The rumors have been swirling for months, who is going, where are they going, when are they going? No one knows, everyone heard from their sister's friend's brother's uncle's former roommate who heard it from the transsexual midget they were having an affair with behind their wife's back that its....Afghanistan.

The commander shouts with all the base his girly voice will muster, "COMPANY" He pauses to allow the Lieutenants to snap to attention from their state of parade rest and shout themselves, "PLATOON" Which makes me silently chuckle to myself because duck butt up in front basically took a big ole' bite out of his britches with his butt cheeks, but anyway...

"ATTENTION!!!!" His voice cracks just a bit on the third T.  He does his own pirouette, indicating he's going to turn this formation over to someone else, which throws me off. I'm a soldier, at least in formation, anything out of the norm throws me off. I mean have you ever seen a basic training company practicing "rear, march"?

Anyway, another officer comes strutting up to the front. He's big brass. You can tell by the way he walks. People don't walk that way unless they're very used to people getting out of their way, and standing up when they walk into a room.

He gets up to the front, salutes the commander, the commander moves to the side and this guy, in an actually manly voice, shouts, "ATTENTION TO ORDERS"

And all the rumors cleared themselves up real quick.....

Sep 30, 2018

Why Can't I Watch The Bears In Detroit?

I'm a Bears Fan. Have been since birth. Had I not been a Bears fan I would not have made it through my childhood as one of my family in Spartan-like fashion would have chucked me off the side of a building to make sure I didn't grow old enough to have children and infect the rest of the world with my weaknesses.

My hatred of the Packers knows no bounds. I'd rather die of some weird cancer than to live a long and healthy life as a Packer fan.

My beloved Bears have actually got a team worth watching this year. They just kicked the ever living shit out of Tampa Bay this afternoon 48-10. Which leads me to my next question. Why can't I watch the Bears in Detroit?

Blackouts and local markets and proprietary mumbo jumbo be damned. Why in the blue hell can't I watch the Bears in Detroit? I live there now, my job always picks the place I will fit in least to send me.

So I scoured the internet looking for someone I could pay to watch this game. I really did. I wanted to do it right. I wanted to give the NFL money so that I could view their product. Sounds fairly American to me. But I couldn't. There was no LEGITIMATE way for me, a life long Bears fan, who has been suffering since 1985, to watch my team which finally, at long last, is worth watching!

Now, there were no shortage of clever little work arounds that could be done and there were even a few places that would link to some streaming service that they got through, what I'm sure could be characterized as nefarious means. I could have even used a VPN to pretend I was in Europe and watch any game I wanted to, live for I think $199 per season for the NFL gamepass.

But if you buy the Gamepass in the states, you can only watch the games after they are over! The guy who thought of that little caveat should be set on fire in a dumpster somewhere.

Oh, and the Europeans have an option to just buy their team's games for $129. I'll tell you right now I'd be all over that. I'd go so high as $160. Ten bucks per game seems reasonable. I'm sure the NFL would make a pretty penny on that, plus they could bypass the networks and take the money directly from us. But since I live about 250 miles from the team and the city that I love, and have money that I'm more than willing to part with, I still can't watch my beloved Chicago Bears play.

In today's day and age I could buy LSD blotters with Marilyn Monroe's face on them. Why the hell can't I watch whatever football game I want. I'm sure it has something to do with money and someone other than me getting it, but I think there's a huge market here. All these cord cutters out there, give them an easy one stop shop to watch any football game they want.

I mean the playoffs and the SuperBowl are all on TV, why the hell can't we watch the regular season games? Fuck you Roger.

The 24 Inch Gauge...

 Like I said in my last post, I joined a lodge of Freemasons. Immediately upon starting the process you start to learn things. A lot of diff...