Archive for the ‘LT Ronald’ Category

After sharing my first AIBS post with friends and family a few other experiences that I had left out were brought to my attention, and as such I felt obliged to share them with y’all as well.

For the first two years after I split from my ex I used the on-post Summer Day care for my children. It was inexpensive and really worked with my work schedule. My children seemed to enjoy it, but some of the reports that I would receive back from the counselors concerned me a bit.

Counselor: Oh Chief, your kids are just delightful, your daughter did stand up comedy for the talent show we did today. Did she really tell some women that she’s not just like her mom, because she’s not tired of putting up with your crap yet?

Me: Where do you get delightful from that?

Counselor: Have you heard about her corporation? She has Shannon Sharp doing inspirational speaking for them. What an imagination!

Me: Sounds like she got those contractual obligations out of the way.

Counselor: Huh?

Me: She better hope so, otherwise he might have grounds to sue her.

Counselor: Shannon Sharp is going to sue your daughter?

Me: You know what, I think I’ve said too much. You better ask her attorneys if you have any more questions.

At that point I couldn’t keep a straight face any more.

Last year I decided to utilize a different form of day care for my children while I worked. A nice woman with 7 children of her own had an ad out in the paper to do daycare at her home. Since my work schedule had changed and I worked weekends I needed a place that would support that new schedule, as the post day care was Mon-Fri. This woman was and is wonderful. Some of her children are around the ages of my kids, and she has some older children that help her.

The sitter’s eight year-old daughter, Averie, developed a crush on my 10 year-old son. It was cute and harmless, or so both my son and I thought.

For my son’s last birthday he received a Nintendo DSI, which has a voice record function. I picked my son up from daycare the one day, and from the back seat I hear this little eight year-old’s voice:

Ohhhhhhh, (insert my son’s name here), I loooove youuuuu sooooooo baaaaaaad. Ohhhhhhhhh I want to tickle your wee-wee! MMMMMmmmmm (insert son’s name here) I’m going to make you mine. I love you sooooooooooo baaaaaaaaaad!

My son was even more shocked then I was. He had no idea that this little girl had recorded that on his DS, and had just heard it for the first time as well. 

The conversation with the sitter the next day was probably the 2nd most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever experienced.

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Since someday Skippy will have to look to a babysitter to have even a smidgen of what was once a life, assuming Skippy had a life to begin with, I have decided to put together a few little vignettes of my experiences being babysat, to when I have had to babysit, to when I’ve had to use babysitters myself, well not for myself, well there was that onetime, for my own kids… you know what I mean!

As a young child one of the most detestable experiences you will go through are when your parents get all gussied up to go out and have fun leaving you with a “sitter”. Why do the call them “sitters”? Because that is all you are allowed to do when these Attila the Hun little bitches get control over you.

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I drink a lot. No, I’m not an alcoholic, though I do occasionally partake in a beer or two. I went from a gall bladder removal surgery to a broken toe that kept me from running for almost 6 months. Since I’ve always been a borderline PT passer, I’ve fallen under the border. Since I have to get back to PT shape by January I have been working out a lot and taking supplements. When you work out a lot and take supplements you drink a lot. When you drink a lot, you piss a lot. At all hours of the day and night.

My fiance is a “nervous” sleeper. No matter how we have arranged a bed in any place we have lived, I have always had to sleep closest to the door so that when the monsters come I can fight them off before they hurt her. I love how naive she is… Everyone knows that monsters come out of the closet. Except her, and I’ll never tell, because while they feast on her flesh I’ll be halfway down the block!

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Hi all! It’s been a good long time since I posted regularly, but since Skippy asked that a few of us who have posted frequently in the past help him out a bit while he’s busy gearing up for fatherhood, I figured I’d dig deep back into my past and give y’all a little something new.

In my 12 years in the Army or National Guard I have always counted my interactions with the Special Forces as unforgettable. In Iraq in 2005 I was able to have them run missions concurrent to mine, and always enjoyed extra spoils, such as blue and green lensed Oakleys or a Leopuld Mark-IV scope, but my most enjoyable time with the SF was when they took me to the — shit just wrote an awesome tale and remembered it was classified…… had to delete it. In a nutshell, if I were to join a clandestine governmental organization I could receive Korean Massages anytime I wanted and it would be considered honorable work for my country. Stupid security.

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Has it really been 4 months since I last posted?!?!

It’s either been the underground fight clubs, or the stupid army schools, but I haven’t had time to give you guys anything new from me in a while.

Did you know that there are undertaker conventions? One of my new workers told me that her family runs a funeral parlor, and that her father is attending an undertakers convention.

My first thought was of a bunch of 7 foot tall, superwhite wrestlers all getting together to check out new urns and caskets.

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Having been in the military for quite a while I have heard some of the best “how I am going to kill you” lines out there. I am curious as to what some of yours are.

Some are cliche from some of our favorite movies:

I will gouge out your eyes and skull-fuck you to death.

I’m going to rip off your head and piss in your dead skull.

Some cover mass murder:

The streets will flow with the blood of the non-believers.

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Now that Michiel has started my head a rolling with the thoughts of cloning I just can’t help but come up with some good cloning humor.

What would I do if I ever encountered my clone?

My first thought would be “Is this the ‘evil’ one?” Then I would think: “Shit, I hope I’m the evil one and can kill him before he comes to the same conclusion.” My next thought would be, do I have enough time to up my life insurance?”

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I was recently having a conversation with my fiance, who is all of 100lbs, about having children. Actually wait, she was having the conversation with me, because the last thing that us guys want to talk about is turning “our” vagina into the panama canal, and “our” tits into sprinkler systems… sometimes that last one is cool, but I’m a pervert. So…… anyways, she suggests the idea of adoption, because as I mentioned earlier she is only 100lbs, and she doesn’t want to ruin her “perfect” (by trivial American standards) body. After I recover from my shock of having actually picked someone as shallow as me, Praise the Lord, I start thinking about what I actually know about adoption.

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I would love to see this commercial.

A child comes in from playing outside and is covered in dirt, mud, and grass stains. Instead of quietly smirking and shaking her head, the mom becomes irate and starts screaming at the child about getting his good school clothes dirty. She says that “shout” had better get these stains out or else dad will be using his belt when he gets home.

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No shit, there I was, FT Lewis Washington, college ROTC Advanced Camp. This was the last 6 week training that ROTC Cadets would get before being commissioned.

We had a former marine in our class who proves that lobotomies are given at Paris Island.

We were at the hand grenade range, and if you’ve never been to the hand grenade range at FT Lewis, its layout is a little different. The control tower is on the opposite side of the impact area and looks down on the impact area.

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