cut and pasted for your pleasure....a few days late.....a day in the life of featurette
da da da da da da (trumpets play)
if your looking for literary intuige stop turn off your computer and go to the library. if you want to blead from the ears read on.
Yeah today wasnt so bad.
It was the 82nds birthday, or at least it will be tomorrow. Today was Monday August 15th to be exact. So, they couldnt just have us run on Tuesday. That would be...well... I dont know what it would be, but theres some unwritten rule, that we dont have Division runs on any other day but Mondays. So we did what the 82nd does, we ran. To celebrate, to commemorate, to capitulate the sixty some years of rich Abone tradition.
As with any big run like this one we are to show up ten minutes prior, to being ten minutes prior, to being ten minutes prior, to being ten minutes prior, to being ten minutes prior, to being ten minutes prior to six thirty when we start P.T.( Physical Training), but today we were to be fifteen minutes early to the pre established time frame for such an occasion.
We got into our prescribed ranks and files and marched to the parade field where the Six brigades of our division form up to run Four miles together, for morale don-cha-know. So we get there and sing the Airborne song to the General, and run our four miles, and we are told we get off at noon, and thats all good, and they release us to go shower and stuff and you know, thats all good too.
Well I had a noggin appointment, so I went. It was at ten. Now Im sitting there listening to all the people in the waiting room talking shit about the people they had brought, because having brought them there they were the direct supervisors of all the bloody wrist and gibbered up people back in the offices talking to all the least common denominator counselors the Army could find.
They have this way of training people to exactly their needs, and dont get me wrong, with time we all exceed our training in some small way(mostly). And I dont know any of these people personally, as a disclaimer, so I cant expound on their level of commitment, experience, competence, much less their personal lack of ambition to or their doleful satisfaction of the Armys policy of helping those who help it.
My dude seemed all of the above, once I made it clear I wasnt trying to escape my commitment through many bouts of verbal Judo. Lots of, yeah Im feeling depressed but no, Im going to kill myself. type stuff. Dig?
I get done, still gibbered, but feeling good and head to work singing along with my favorite Me First and The Gimme Gimmies tunes of which there are many, stop for some fuel(that shits like 2.48 per gallon here, Fuck!), and get there to the note of Harry Belefontes immortal classic...um...the banana song? Shrug.
Blah, blah its Noon and time to go baby. So I snatch up Dubes and were off. A thirty pack of Bush light, pack of Twislers, three boxes of Hot Pockets and a frozen Lasagne later were on the way home.
The conversation ranged from, Fohol is such a fucker. to My uncle was a transvestite, but not really. He was married and stuff. He just liked to wear womens cloths. The one time I met him he was in a sun-dress, and a bonnet..well...not a bonnet but one of those floppy big hats and red high heels.
Well then we drive past Blockbuster and I start in with my Carly spiel. See there is this girl I sort of have a crush on, but I, you know. I cant really....well Im always broke....and Im just another pole in a town full of 30-100 thousand poles, but today Im feelin lucky. I tell ole Dubes all I need to do is walk in there and pick a couple of strategic movies, and if the conversation falls along the lines of one of the many pre planned lines that have been conceived in my gibbered noggin...well lets just say...everything is golden. Like a shower, I believe is how some would put it.
You know, maybe there would be a little of me sauntering up to the counter, looking her dead in the eyes with a sultry flash of my Brown eyes and then to top off that Chocolate covered Devils Food cake. Id speak. Yes, Id say something so witty and debonair like....Hey.
No, thats it. I know sports fans, you were expecting more, but thats about the extent of my charms. Minus of course the sauntering and the flashing and such.
So then shed respond, Checking out some movies?
And Im spent.
Well if youre name is movies., Dubes chimes in.
Fuck!, why dont I think of things like that?
Well anyways theres this guy there whos like Kryptonite to me.
Yeah, this dude, I further explained, hes so counterculture. He asked if it was the tattooed dude, but its not. Hes kick ass....YEAH! No this dude, hes got the four inch shag job going on, and has this cheesy brown leather wrist band and says things like. I wont listen to System of the Downed. I only listen to Coldplay.
The guys just sucking te bone marrow out of my libido.
Any who thats the profound and enlightening morel of this story you have been waiting for so patiently. Thanks for listening. If it makes you feel better, the thirty pack is a third gone as I key these characters.
Sweet dreams.
da da da da da da (trumpets play)
if your looking for literary intuige stop turn off your computer and go to the library. if you want to blead from the ears read on.
Yeah today wasnt so bad.
It was the 82nds birthday, or at least it will be tomorrow. Today was Monday August 15th to be exact. So, they couldnt just have us run on Tuesday. That would be...well... I dont know what it would be, but theres some unwritten rule, that we dont have Division runs on any other day but Mondays. So we did what the 82nd does, we ran. To celebrate, to commemorate, to capitulate the sixty some years of rich Abone tradition.
As with any big run like this one we are to show up ten minutes prior, to being ten minutes prior, to being ten minutes prior, to being ten minutes prior, to being ten minutes prior, to being ten minutes prior to six thirty when we start P.T.( Physical Training), but today we were to be fifteen minutes early to the pre established time frame for such an occasion.
We got into our prescribed ranks and files and marched to the parade field where the Six brigades of our division form up to run Four miles together, for morale don-cha-know. So we get there and sing the Airborne song to the General, and run our four miles, and we are told we get off at noon, and thats all good, and they release us to go shower and stuff and you know, thats all good too.
Well I had a noggin appointment, so I went. It was at ten. Now Im sitting there listening to all the people in the waiting room talking shit about the people they had brought, because having brought them there they were the direct supervisors of all the bloody wrist and gibbered up people back in the offices talking to all the least common denominator counselors the Army could find.
They have this way of training people to exactly their needs, and dont get me wrong, with time we all exceed our training in some small way(mostly). And I dont know any of these people personally, as a disclaimer, so I cant expound on their level of commitment, experience, competence, much less their personal lack of ambition to or their doleful satisfaction of the Armys policy of helping those who help it.
My dude seemed all of the above, once I made it clear I wasnt trying to escape my commitment through many bouts of verbal Judo. Lots of, yeah Im feeling depressed but no, Im going to kill myself. type stuff. Dig?
I get done, still gibbered, but feeling good and head to work singing along with my favorite Me First and The Gimme Gimmies tunes of which there are many, stop for some fuel(that shits like 2.48 per gallon here, Fuck!), and get there to the note of Harry Belefontes immortal classic...um...the banana song? Shrug.
Blah, blah its Noon and time to go baby. So I snatch up Dubes and were off. A thirty pack of Bush light, pack of Twislers, three boxes of Hot Pockets and a frozen Lasagne later were on the way home.
The conversation ranged from, Fohol is such a fucker. to My uncle was a transvestite, but not really. He was married and stuff. He just liked to wear womens cloths. The one time I met him he was in a sun-dress, and a bonnet..well...not a bonnet but one of those floppy big hats and red high heels.
Well then we drive past Blockbuster and I start in with my Carly spiel. See there is this girl I sort of have a crush on, but I, you know. I cant really....well Im always broke....and Im just another pole in a town full of 30-100 thousand poles, but today Im feelin lucky. I tell ole Dubes all I need to do is walk in there and pick a couple of strategic movies, and if the conversation falls along the lines of one of the many pre planned lines that have been conceived in my gibbered noggin...well lets just say...everything is golden. Like a shower, I believe is how some would put it.
You know, maybe there would be a little of me sauntering up to the counter, looking her dead in the eyes with a sultry flash of my Brown eyes and then to top off that Chocolate covered Devils Food cake. Id speak. Yes, Id say something so witty and debonair like....Hey.
No, thats it. I know sports fans, you were expecting more, but thats about the extent of my charms. Minus of course the sauntering and the flashing and such.
So then shed respond, Checking out some movies?
And Im spent.
Well if youre name is movies., Dubes chimes in.
Fuck!, why dont I think of things like that?
Well anyways theres this guy there whos like Kryptonite to me.
Yeah, this dude, I further explained, hes so counterculture. He asked if it was the tattooed dude, but its not. Hes kick ass....YEAH! No this dude, hes got the four inch shag job going on, and has this cheesy brown leather wrist band and says things like. I wont listen to System of the Downed. I only listen to Coldplay.
The guys just sucking te bone marrow out of my libido.
Any who thats the profound and enlightening morel of this story you have been waiting for so patiently. Thanks for listening. If it makes you feel better, the thirty pack is a third gone as I key these characters.
Sweet dreams.
ami:
you are amazing and i love you keep fightign the good fight
i_am_gir:
mmm hot pockets and beer 