fresh men

's about the size of it.

hello dolly

So they announced the reintroduction of PT shit...

I can scarcely believe it, but there I am in my PT nasties, dragging the ol' Ball-n-Chain along and for the first time thinkin' maybe if some-a-them Raqi tards would lob a few mortars over the wire just about now we could all safely run for cover and call this whole thing off. No such luck.

I see the sarge on my way to formation and I can't help myself and I gotta make an issue out of it. "What gives with the PT retardation sarge?"

"Back to the real army Barley."

"Real army? Real army was that shit we just done wrap up. Stompin' the peanuts outta those goat-lovin' asses back in the 13th century. What's the point-a-this?"

"Keep you fit to fight shitbird."

"Look, sarge, if it's all the same with you, I just rather sleep. You want me to get out there and run circles in the sand and jump up and down like a tard on a string so my cardiovascular is all good-n-shit, then twenty minutes later send me back out into the shooting gallery so some sadass can tattoo my balls to the back of my seat... is THAT the plan? Seriously though, is THAT the plan? Cause honestly, none of it makes any sense to me."

"The PT's for the off off chance that you and those miserable little peas you erroneously refer to as 'balls' make it back to live another day of being a shitbird, shitbird."

"How about this... I'll stay in and just rack out until whenever the next time we head out to do battle with the dumbfucks, OR, I'll do PT faithfully but never go out again, just to make sure the health improvements from all that physical exercise don't go to waste. Makes a lot more sense to me. Waddaya say? Huh sarge?"

He says nothing and ignores me and we join the platoon and he calls us to attention and we launch into it. Gepetto out front pulling our strings, shouting it out, and us flopping around like a bunch a tards, jumping around and kicking dirt and waiving arms and bending knees and flopping up and down like so many wooden puppets and counting along with the cadences. Mind switched off and body pliable as rubber. Thinking of that warm empty cot and missed sleep and much needed rest... and peace and quiet. Not here. Not here ever.

Back in Korea we'd do this shit drunk. Just to make it worth our time. For the entertainment value of it. We'd pop a couple-a-beers just before stumbling out to formation and slam those fuckers down hard and after twenty minutes of jumpin' and floppin' and waiving arms and all the other retarded crap we'd set out on our run and guys would start chuckin' the shit up... and keep on running. Sometimes one guy's upchucks would set off a whole chain reaction of upchucking. Good times... Then as soon as we got back to barracks we'd dive into our fridge and pop more beers. We drink more before 9 a.m. than most people do all month. Yeah. Slap that on your recruiting poster sarge.

Sometimes... I think the whole point of it is to just drive you batshit. I mean... if not that... what's the point?

I'm too short for this shit.

poof

And it was gone.

ask a simple question

So I says Sarge, Sarge I says... he said, no. I said, but but but... he said, no. I said, aw come oooooooooooooooooooooooon Sarge, what-the-FAWK over... he said... no.

the mother of all shoutouts

Checking the ol' email yesterday nearly stumbled over myself and knocked the friggin' laptop to smithereens ending this little adventure decidedly prematurely.... the mother of all shoutouts from the godfather of Iraq war ranting... got an email from Colby Buzzell. In the digital flesh. He was going through a shitload of blogs and took the time to fire off that little note.

This rant wouldn't exist without Colby. From what I had heard, a milblog was something through which you could reenlist online. Colby exploded that shit. And in the process revolutionized the process of grumbling. So it means a lot to me to receive words of encouragment from him. I've never even had a chance to read the original blog that got yanked. Colby was forced to take it down after his chain of command got wind of his blog (note to self)... correction, wasn't forced, was--ever-so-kindly--advised to tap out a different beat. Colby got the last laugh though, and how. His book, My War: Killing Time in Iraq is out and in bookstores and available over at Amazon. A must read!

Speaking of shoutouts, wanna thank Ed, Barb, Mike, Charlie, Paul, Chuck, Rick, Snag, Robert, Sara, Diane, Alex, George, Gabe, Amanda, David, Nancy and Ex-PFC Wintergreen (hilarious email) for some of the most outrageous shoutouts. Wanna let you guys know, I'm framing this shit when I have the chance. For real! Check out the blogroll while you're at it. These guys are creating provocative, moving, powerful, hilarious, thoughtful stuff. If you can find the time, give it a read. I do. Btw, anyone interested in exchanging links, drop a line!

if only

I don't even know what that means.

obsolete

Don't ask.

who's on first

More specifically... what the fuck?

almost normal

Firin' up the ol' puter today I find a shitload of emails--four!--and more bloggers shouting out. Good shit! Snag over at DEprogramming Starter Kit actually devoted a page to the Short-Timer's Code of Conduct, and plastered that baby all over his page... awesome bro! Distribute and spread the word! FYI, the Short-Timer's Code was inspired by the official U.S. Armed Forces Code of Conduct, for all you mild-mannered individuals who've never been forced to do federal time. It's a parody and basically a reminder for us not to reenlist. Like we need remindin'. Or a picker-upper on down days. A promise. OR a really really good time during inspections cause you 'forgot' to strip it down from wherever-the-fuck you had it plastered and you find the colonel wrinkling his brow and hesitating whether to smile or chew your ass severely.

Robert over at The Un-Apologetic Atheist, and Sara over at No Accuser have devoted blog space to my rantings... Fools! Fools! One and all fools! I love you guys! Thanks for the kind words and takin' time out to drop a line. Means a lot to me. And Diane, over at A Stone, A Leaf, An Unfound Door..., thank you for your warm kind words. There is humanity out there... in a world gone mad... how do they do it? You're all blogrolled and linked, for what it's worth!

And I was readin' Get Your Ticket Now at Barb's blog and instantly did a mental inventory of my mp3's wondering how many of those on the list were on my hard drive at this very instant. Not to mention some other stuff at Barb's blog that I rather not go into, specifically that one picture on the blog there. Cause it's so uncanny, 's not even funny... actually, it's a total crack-up.

Oh, and Charlie, what I wanted to say was hell YES to Scotch on the Rocks and let's work out a payment method... I INSIST. The only way to support the arts is through supperting the arts... which btw, ahem, brings me to this. I urgh, have appropriated some of the shots off of your blog, cause what I would not give to be THERE right now. I couldn't make up my mind so I swiped all of 'em and shortly I'll revisit Toxteth, because it triggers memories of the ROK, and other beloved Molotov-hugging deathwishers and their love of Yankee-bashing, and fun nights kicking the shit out of them and sometimes them kicking the shit out of us... is why I think I keep dwelling on it I think. Aside from the fact it's just a plain ol' good fuckin' read. Thoughts of Woody Allen only trigger recollections of him shacking up with that adopted Korean daughter of his, something I've considered many a shitfaced night mind you... shacking up, but then there were mornings and oh shit I got fifteen minutes to get my drunken ass back to base before the oh-fuck-hundred PT formation. Maybe Woodster would have been better off imprisoned with the rest of us in the arhhhhhhmy. Course, then he'd be in the Raq too wouldn't he? There's something to aspire to. Woody Allen doin' the Raq... someone give Woodster a buz will ya. Maybe we can set something up.

out of order

Out of order? This whole stinkin' BLOG'S OUT OF ORDER!!!!!!!

by special request

...of the Grand Inquisitor of the Special Inquiry of the Inquest into Subversive and UnAmerican Activities and Utterances Unsupportive of Global Conquest and Conquerage... removed without further comment.

what becomes of the purple hearted

They whither.

last laughs 'n whatnot

Content removed after being deemed insensitive to ethnic minorities and some four-legged mammals. Maybe even goats.