Archive for the ‘Guest Story’ Category

My dad likes to tell this story, especially around Halloween. You’ll see why. And, of course, whenever anyone starts discussing “That one guy”. You know the one. That person in every unit/workplace/class you’ve ever been in that makes you wonder how many times this person was dropped as a child. And also what your CO/boss/instructor was thinking/smoking when they allowed this person into the group. That guy that makes you say “wow, somewhere a village is missing it’s idiot”.

This is a story about that one guy. My dad was an airborne ranger (a cook, airborne ranger, the most badass cook in the army) and, of course, they had training jumps. Now, one thing that every soldier knows is that if you are going to jump out of an airplane and then hike ten miles back, you don’t bring non-essential crap. What you do bring is lots of water. Most of the guys on the plane had a couple of two-quarts plus a camelback, except that one guy. He only had a two-quart, he was worried about the weight of the extra water. He did, however, bring a large bag of candy. (more…)

Follow

So to begin with I’m not a member of any military organization, the closest I ever came was to be rejected from Annapolis because my vision was off in one eye.  The only ways in which I remotely military are the fact I’m in shape and have short cropped hair.

It is the middle of the afternoon I’m walking down in the street in Incheon,  with my girlfriend (a Korean-American) when out of nowhere comes this American military officer who is yelling something at someone about, “Why the hell are you off base?”. I start to look around for what poor guy is about to ripped a new one when I suddenly realize the 2LT is bearing down on me, convinced I’m in his unit and currently AWOL.

He pulls up in front of me and pokes me in the chest and proceeds to tell me I’m in big trouble and how I’m supposed to be on duty.  My smartass comment “Oh the draft is back? That sucks.” goes unappreciated.  The funny part is he doesn’t appear to know my name.  He keeps refering to me as “Mister”.   I’m staring at this guy and trying to figure out of he is drunk, but I can’t smell any alcohol on his breath and he seems sober, just stupid.

In the spirit of not being a dick I was trying to suggest he has the wrong guy and offering to pull my passport and University ID, but he isn’t having it.  He keeps poking me in the chest and blustering.  He finally pushes the right button when he says something about “sneaking off to fuck some Korean whore” in reference to my GF who is standing beside me.   I promptly take a swing at him and follow it up with a knee in the groin*.   I end up taking him down to the ground so I can punch him more effectively and my GF being the doll she is gets a few kicks into his ribcage.  She also got me with one of the kicks, but I try not to hold that against her.

The fun doesn’t last long; some Korean cops had been watching the confrontation and waded in to break it up.  Lucky for me, my girlfriend is there to present them with a one-sided account of the encounter in Korean.  So we end up in the police station having some tea, noodles, and kimchee while the 2LT is cuffed and tossed in a holding cell.  One of the Korean cops is nice enough to walk in and dump half a bottle of peroxide on the 2LT’s face, prompting a series of angry yells.   It all ends with a pair of very pissed off officers and some military police showing up to collect the 2LT.  As he’s being hauled one of the officers looks at the 2LTs face, then at me, then back at the 2LT and I hear him mutter “…by a fucking college kid.”  I’m assuming the part before that was: “Had his ass beaten…”.

Eventually some civilian relations type of person from the Army looked me up to make sure I wasn’t planning on pressing charges or anything, which I’m not (only took them 3 weeks to locate me).  The Army did refuse my request that as a good faith gesture they tattoo “Warning: Contents of Butterbar May Be Racist and/or Stupid” across the 2LT’s forehead.

*One thing I did learn in JROTC: If you ain’t cheating, you ain’t trying.  Thanks Chief Stewart for those words of wisdom.

Follow

Is there one story that you find yourself telling over and over again? My fiance and I recently bought a house in a nice little neighborhood in central PA. Since we have met and drank with a lot of new couples our “How we met” story has been told a lot lately. I don’t like telling that story unless asked, mostly because then I have to hear everyone elses’ boring “how we met on hopelesslosersonline.com” stories. Even if they don’t offer it up, I still have to ask because it is the polite thing to do after telling them about how awesome my coupling went (please feel free to offer up your stories in the comments, especially if they are funny).

No one here asked, but then again you haven’t asked me to tell you about Penis pumps, letter H-ing midgets, shit-facing my commander, getting checked for the clap, or any of the other crazy things I’ve posted here. 

After my cheating whore of an ex-wife left me, I took some time to myself and stayed celibate for a bit. After that month was over I went out on the hunt. MWR was my nickname, not Morale, Welfare, and Recreation, though I must admit that I provided that for quite a few ladies during my year of being single. MWR stood for Man-Whore-Ron. (more…)

Follow

I have been absent, ed except for the occasional smart ass comment [beats being a dumbass] because I have been “deployed.” This delay makes my nom du skippyslist, “Speed,” a bit of a lie, but unavoidable.

I have to use quotation marks because I have been sent to the wilds in the good ole USA, to teach bright eyed, naïve, young soldiers an MOS. Somewhere, someone, no doubt a sadistic bastard that I once knew, decided that I had something to offer the new troops. So I’m an instructor.

Prior to this I thought that the BS threshold in the army was too low, but have found out that the cadre/command element in a US Army school are so damned bored that they have to invent ways to mess with the instructors.

I say mess with the instructors because they area limited to what they can do to the students any more, that “harassment” line is clear, well defined, and much closer than it was when I went to an AIT school.

I have received some sort of behavioral counseling about every other month or so – negative counseling the in army vernacular – and get the verbal type every week. I guess there are still some things that senior NCOs aren’t allowed to do.

I have compiled a list of more things that I cannot do from the past six months, and it should give you an idea of why such counseling has been deemed necessary.

1. Not allowed to call the “Foxtrot” class “Foxtards.”
2. When the Foxtrot instructors put down my MOS, not allowed to reply, “But it’s way better than being a ‘Foxtard.’”
3. Artillery is the King of Battle, and the Infantry is the Queen of Battle, not the “Bitches of Battle.”
4. Not allowed to call air assets the “Pimps of Battle.”
5. Air assets support the ground assets, not allowed to say they are “Stylin’ and Profilin.’” (more…)

Follow

Johnson’s Retirement Speech:

Ever since I enlisted, I have had to convince people that I was in the military. When I’ve told people I was in the military, the response was something to the effect of, “Right. Now what do you really do?”
(more…)

Follow

Well, my days in Charleston are numbered. I’m being transferred up to Ballston Spa, NY next week. I figured I would share one more tale (or tales, depending on how you look at it) about my time here.

–We get guys fresh out of Boot Camp on a weekly basis. Probably the most entertaining thing to do is, naturally, screw with them. Doing so becomes that much easier on the tail end of the pipleline down here because your uniform says that you’ve made it. You can get them to do all kinds of stupid crap.

For instance, we have a strict code against hazing, which is promptly ignored. Because Naval Weapons Station Charleston (excuse me, Joint Base Charleston) is also a federal nature preserve, we get a lot of wildlife here, mostly as squirrels. One common joke is to tell the new guys, known as Indockers, to salute the squirrels.
(more…)

Follow

I have a 16 year old little brother, and a couple of college degrees. Because of that my mother has asked me to assist my little brother from time to time with homework assignments.

For the first assignment my degree had nothing to do with me being asked to help, just having been in college did.

(more…)

Follow

Hey Americans, it’s 2010. That means there’s another form to fill out in addition to your tax extension– the Census.

If you think a Census is just an inconvenience that wasn’t in the Founding Fathers’ vision for this great land of ours, think again! The first Congress established a process for counting every American to determine a states’ number of representatives, figure budgets and score digits from any hot chick gullible enough to put them on the form. The first census was taken in 1790 and has followed every 10 years since. Its methods have never been above controversy, as seen in these transcripts of the Congressional record in the year 1787.

(more…)

Follow

Most people have probably heard of the false things to tell is wrong with their vehicle like blinker fluid and bumper bearings. Well, in the military, we have a similar version of that. Only we tend to do it to new guys in the form of sending them on errands to find these things. Here are a few things that I’ve seen, been sent for, or most commonly, just heard about.
(more…)

Follow

My roommate’s girlfriend, who is also my roommate, believes in ghosts. Not only does she watch those ghost hunter shows, but she believes that the house we live in is haunted.

Mr. Clean has a mop out there that looks like the back of the head of a Raggedy Ann doll. My roommate bought one of these for his girlfriend because she mentioned that she needed a new mop.

Nice guy my roommate, right? Apparently not-so-much. His girlfriend was ragging it and in a generally pissy mood when he gave her the mop, and it turns out that she has used that type of mop in the past and doesn’t like them. She made no bones about telling him how much she hated the mop and what a dumb-ass that he was for getting that type of mop.

Now I like both of my roommates, and I do understand what PMS can make a women say, but that didn’t mean a little revenge wasn’t in order.

(more…)

Follow