A-School

A-School, is where you go after Boot Camp, if you are trying to become a designated striker, for whatever rate you plan to go for.

In my case the rating was Aviation Structural Mechanic (Hydraulics), AMH for short.

I flew out of San Diego and landed in Memphis, TN sometime at night. I have no idea of the time, just that it was dark and rainy. We checked into admin, and the barracks. My particular barracks was South 402. My barracks was located by the Galley, and the Wave cage. (Female Barracks). My first night I went to my assigned room, and fell in exhaustion onto the only empty rack. I woke up sometime later having to piss really bad. But, I had no idea where the Head was. I didn't want to disturb my roommates. So I laid there for well over three hours suffering with a full bladder. It was a weekend, so the other guys slept in. Finally one of them started to stir, and came awake. I asked him where the head was, and off I went.

A little while later, the messenger came up to my room, and told me I had a visitor on the Quarterdeck. I got dressed in my Working Blues, went downstairs, and found that one of my friends from Boot Camp was there. He asked if I wanted to go over to McDonald's. I hesitated, because I was so used to all of my movements being regulated from Boot Camp. He saw my trepidation, and told me it was ok, we weren't under the same rules here.

You go from having a very structured routine, to all of a sudden freedom, and it's a real shock. Another shocker I had, was looking at all of the civilians in the Airports. I felt they were all unsat, because of their hair length and the way they wore their clothing. Yes, I was really that brainwashed.

One thing about Millington was that you were not authorized to wear civilian clothes for a set amount of time. I think it was like 60 days. So, before you were allowed to wear your civvies, you had to walk around in your working blues. To get authorization you had to run a chit through the chain of command. I remember when I was finally able to wear my civvies, I was so excited. I went up to get my civvies out of storage, and someone had stolen my jeans. So, I had to go over to the Navy Exchange and buy new jeans and a belt. You HAD to wear a belt.....what a stupid rule.

Then there was school........

Molly's Naval Glossary:

Working Blue Uniform- This uniform is also known as Johnny Cash's. Because they are all black (Navy Blue) with a necktie, and your white hat.

Galley- Kitchen or Chow Hall

Head- Restroom

Chit- Can be a written request to get authorization for something, or another version can be used to report a violation of the UCMJ.

UCMJ- Uniform Code of Military Justice, the law.

Rate- A rating is your job. To become a designated stryker for a certain rate, you either go to A-school or you get designated after you take your first test for whichever rate. You're not actually 'Rated' until you become a Petty Officer 3rd Class (E-4)

Quarterdeck- A cermonial location on either a ship, or building. If you watch the movies, it's where people salute the flag, and then the person on watch, to request permission to come aboard.

Angry, Shitty, and Mean

I'm quite sure that whatever is wrong with me is stress related, or it's that damn sinus infection flaring up again. Sometimes I'd like to grab a pipe cleaner, and play Roto-Rooter man.
Just clear it all out, you know?

Maybe I could go get some Chinese Hot Mustard, or Wasabi from a Sushi joint, those two items would help drain my sinuses. Better yet, I could drive a shunt into my left cheek, and then I could have constant drainage. Or, I could hook a vacuum up to my nostrils, THAT would clear it out.

These are all things I think about until the medication kicks in. After that it's La-La land, because the non-drowzy pills makes me tired, stoned, or both. Last night I was sitting here with a sweatshirt on, the temperature up to 75 deg, and still cold as hell from whatever fever I had. It finally broke, and the sweat was just pouring off of me. It broke after I took the pills, and then I just felt fuzzy.

I think I had some sort of stomach virus too, not to get very graphic, but I did alot of sitting in the bathroom.

I think it's my work hours, I work so late, and so long (12 hours a night) that my immune system gets run down. If that Bird Flu hits Florida, I'm sure I'll end up with it.

What else can I talk/write about?

I'm angry today, but I don't really know if I could captivate any of you long enough to let you finish the post. It would be a HUGE post, and it involves my In-Laws.

I'm angry at the Dick-eyes that just can't quite figure out how to drive that big SUV down the road, while talking on their cell-phone.

I'm angry at the Snow Birds, that forgot where their Florida home is. These dipshits drive down A1A with their blinker on trying every driveway, until they finally find the right one.

I'm feeling shitty, mean, and angry enough to pick a fight. I guess it's a good thing I picked up my Wellbutrin tonight.

Strike

Tomorrow night at Midnight EST, I will walk out of here on strike. I don't know how long it will last, but I am convinced I am doing the right thing.

I just hope it ends quickly, because a long drawn out deal could really hurt both parties involved.

Sick

I feel like a truck ran me over......I'll be back when I feel better.

Show Me!

I stole this item from Livey.

Follow the link, and show me where you're from.......pretty please?

http://www.frappr.com/mollyworld

Right Back At You!!!!!! (Jessica)

The Cure Shares Your Taste in Music

See their whole playlist here (iTunes required)

Which Musician (or Group) Shares Your Taste in Music?

Whenever I'm alone with you, You make me feel like I am home again.

Whenever I'm alone with you, You make me feel like I am whole again.

Whenever I'm alone with you, You make me feel like I am young again.

Whenever I'm alone with you, You make me feel like I am fun again.

However far away, I will always love you.

However long I stay, I will always love you.

Whatever words I say, I will always love you;

I will always love you.

Whenever I'm alone with you, You make me feel like I am free again.

Whenever I'm alone with you, You make me feel like I am clean again.

However far away, I will always love you.

However long I stay, I will always love you.

Whatever words I say, I will always love you;

I will always love you.

Lovesong, The Cure~Disintegration

Trick or Treat

We took the kids Downtown today to go Trick or Treating. The local businesses hold one every year, part of their efforts to bring people there to shop. It's very quaint, with many interesting shops.

As we left the parking lot to start our fun, we happened upon a little antique store. The store had some items outside on display. My wife and I were looking at the items, when from behind us we heard someone speak to us in a very rude manner.

"There's no candy here."

I replied that we were just looking at the stuff that was for sale. Mrs. Molly went into fight mode and remarked about her rudeness. We went on our way, to have some really good fun, and plenty of candy.......for the kids.....really for the kids......ok we may have dipped into the bags a few times.

On the way back to the car, I saw the woman standing outside her shop and called her an Old Bat. I hate crappy people like that. We were interested in one of her furniture pieces......she just lost that sale.


I have something else I'd like to get off my chest.

Halloween is NOT the Devil's holiday. My GD in-laws are Pentecostal and told my daughter 'What Halloween really was.' You know what? Keep your effin' opinion to yourself, they had her all scared. I realize Halloween comes from a Pagan Holiday called Samhain (sp?) You know what? So do the rest of our 'Christian' holidays. As far as I see it right here right now, it's a bunch of kids dressing up to get candy. Do you really think that some kid gives two-shits about what your denomination teaches you? Because I'll let you in on a little secret...their Dad and Mom don't care about your opinions, and we are not going to let our kids miss out on a night of fun, because of YOUR beliefs.

I will have to share my thoughts on Religion, and 'religious' people someday.

Given what I just wrote...I think you can guess already.

Bootcamp IV (Make a Sailor Hurt)

We were told at the beginning of our training that every last one of us would be attending Marching Party at least once during our time at RTC. Marching Party is where Recruits were sent to be punished for minor infractions. It was basically what we called a Mashing (Make A Sailor Hurt, get it?) under the stars. To get Mashed was a common punishment for us all, but to get sent to Marching Party was supposed to be worse. Lots of push-ups, lots of Sit-ups, and even more eight-count body builders.

My Company was described by most CC's as 'Dicked-Up'. To be perfectly honest, we were. Our test score averages, were mediocre, our PT tests were average, and our drill was just above par. We were basically eff-ups. The company's Guide-on indicated to things. The Company's number was on the flag, and it also had stars and other icons placed on it to indicate how well the company was doing during training. Ours was pretty bare, we were definately not in the running for Color Company, which was the Company that received the best record during training.

It got so bad at one point, that one time as we were leaving Water Survival and Physical Training (WS&PT), one of the instructors came over to us and put an erect penis icon on our Guide-ON. The symbology was to show how 'dicked-up' we were.

If you were really bad, individually, one of your last stops before being kicked out, was a place called POSMO, or Positive Motivation. Those poor guys were sent there for a couple of days, I think, had to wear those old Steel Pot helmets that the Army used to wear before the Kevlar helmets came into service. The POSMO troops would PT all day long with Steel Pots, and M1A Garand Rifles. (Those M1A's are quite heavy) I wasn't bad enough to have been sent to POSMO, but I did go to Marching Party.

We were on our last week of training. The only two guys left in the whole company that had not been invited to the party, were me, and the Laundry Petty Officer. The Laundry P.O. and myself were both able to get away from the company during the day, because I was the ERPO, and he had to go and get our Laundry. We were targets, we both tried like hell not to take any sort of hits on inspection. We both thought we made it....until one day we had a snap inspection on our lockers.

There was a certain way all clothing had to be folded. The end result was that if you looked at the side of any piece of clothing, besides socks, you better see folds that gave you what was called Thin-Thick-Thick-Thin. You better have a thin layer, two thick layers, and a thin layer.

I was busted for having one of my T-shirts folded wrong. I swear to God that T-shirt was folded correctly, I honestly believe the CC had someone fold it incorrectly so he could get me. Needless to say I was headed out on the next Marching Party express.

It wasn't that bad to be honest with you, in fact I had a hard time keeping myself from laughing. Like I stated earlier, we were a dicked-up company. We were getting dropped all of the time, Push-Ups were nothing at this point. It was no where near as intense as some of the Mashings we went through. We made the windows fog up in our barracks....I was in San Diego...during a heat wave, that made that little feat very hard to accomplish. Many a time we would come out of the barracks for chow with our Uniforms soaked clear through because of the Mashing we just went through.

Marching Party....it wasn't that bad, in fact it was a joke. What made it funny to me and my compadre, was all the moans and groans from the new guys.

USO Night was held right down the street from us at the HQ Building. Every Thursday there would be a night before a graduation where the families would be given a presentation by the RTC Command, and then would get to see their loved ones for an hour or so. Let me tell you...we could smell the perfume from our barracks. We were 1/2 a block away, and could smell the women. One day we were practicing our drill on a grinder (Parade Ground) near the USO site. We got a little cocky and started to show-off for all the nice people. Big mistake...we got Mashed right there in front of them all. We were laughed at, and had our pictures taken like animals in a zoo. We deserved it though....it was pretty dumb to show off like that...especially since at that point we weren't very good.

Next Stop.....A-School

CRASH!!!!

Damn 'puter crashed here. I don't know when I'll be posting, it will be soon though.

Boot Camp Pt III

I was anonymous. I was under the radar of both CC's, and was doing fine. What screwed me, was my damn test scores. Every week we were tested at the schoolhouse for that weeks lessons on various Naval subjects. I scored high every week, and that is what put me back on the screen.

One day we were marching back from chow, and I happened to over hear the CC's discussing something. I wasn't really paying attention, until I heard, 'What about Molly, you think he's be good at it?' Uh-oh, what's going on, this isn't in my plans, I'm supposed to be a faceless number. They know my name, what did I do? Good at what? Crap!

We halted in front of the patio, and I heard my name called. I fell out of ranks and came to attention in front of the two of them.

CC: "Molly, we're going to fire the Yeoman, how would you like to take his place?"
Me: "Sir, would I have to march in front of the Company?"

Let me stop and explain something here. The way we marched around, the Yeoman and the Guide-on bearer (Company Flag Holder) marched in front of the ranks, ahead of the Squad Leaders. I was worried that I wouldn't be able to walk in a straight line, and would drift off to one side or the other, and screw it all up.

CC: "Yes, Molly you would HAVE to march out front."
Me: "Sir, I don't want to"
CC: "WTF do you mean you don't want to, DROP!?" (Drop, is the push-up position.)
CC2: "Leave him alone, we'll get someone else. Get back in ranks Molly."
CC: "Smith, front and center!"

Whew, that was close.

Twenty minutes later, I was called in to the office. I slapped the door frame, announced my presence, and asked permission to enter. Once inside, they excused the rest of the staff, and gave me a little ass-chewing, and then proceeded to announce that I was now given three staff jobs, and this time I had no choice. They also informed me that I was chosen for these tasks because my test scores were one of the best, and they needed someone smart. My tasks? Oh, they were doozies.

Hard Card Petty Officer, I was tasked with entering information on everyone's Boot Camp record, paydays, disciplines, Inspection Records, everything. This record was known as a Hard Card.

Assistant Yeoman, I was able to sign special chits for personnel to be away from the Company. But, I didn't have to march out front! :)

Eight O' Clock Reports Petty Officer (ERPO), This was my favorite job. This job allowed me to leave the Company everyday around dinnertime. I was able to shower by myself, eat by myself, and had time to shine my shoes by myself. The ERPOs from each company in the Division were required to report to the Division Office everyday, and get any special orders from the Company Commander on duty that night. Since I was in the Lead-Off Company I had seniority over the other ERPOs in the Division and was basically their Squad Leader. That meant that I got the brunt of whatever hell, the guy on Duty decided he needed to unleash. But, there was one guy that would ask us trivia questions on world events. If answered correctly, he would buy us a Coke. A Coke, or any Geedunk was a special treat. If the question was answered incorrectly we were dropped for fifty push-ups.

After visiting with Division, we had to run all the way back over by R & O to where the Command Duty Officer would give ERPOs from all of the Divisions the Plan of the Day for the next day. Sometimes while we were in ranks waiting for the CDO to come outside to give us this information, a company of new recruits would come by. You could always tell the new guys were coming, because they would all snap their fingers on the left foot, so they could keep in step.
Being the devious little shits that we were, we would all start randomly snapping our fingers to screw them up. To us, it was funny as hell, because You could hear them get yelled at for being out of step.

It was fun, I loved my new jobs, and it wasn't so bad being on the scope after all, or so I thought.........

Molly's Naval Glossary:

Geedunk- is the what the Navy and Marines call candy or snacks. This word is pronounced with a short G sound, like the word Gull is.

Poop

My youngest son is such a great little guy. He gives me little presents twice a day. Special presents from him, it's sweet in a way to think that he picks Daddy for these things. It's special until you get a whiff of what the present really is. He's so sweet about it, that it just doesn't seem right to chastise him for not leaving these presents in the proper place.

His Poop reeks people, I mean enough to gag a maggot off of a gut wagon, kind of stink. It's not little baby poops anymore, you know the ones that look disgusting, but just don't have the aroma. He will use the potty to pee, but just can't seem to find the time to sit on it long enough to drop a turd in the water. Mrs. Molly always seems to know when these presents are coming, because she always sends him my way with a diaper and wipes in hand. (I really appreciate that Honey.)

Boys always seem to take longer with these sort of things. My Daughter, man she was Potty Trained by the time she was two. The boys, they seem to love the feel of squishy poo on their bums. As much as I hate changing dirty diapers, I know soon enough it will all be over, and these guys will be too big for any potty games, like sink the Cheerio, and the Poo Poo on the Potty chant.


I will have my revenge though, when I'm old, one of them will be changing mine. Unless I piss them off too bad, and they stick me in a Home. Which brings to mind something I once heard.

'Don't piss your kids off today, because they will be the ones deciding which Rest Home you enter tomorrow.'

Boot Camp Pt. 2

I went to RTC San Diego (Club Diego, to some) in September of 1988. We had so many recruits that day come in, that we formed eight companies. I had about 1/2 hour of sleep that night, it seemed like I had just finished my shower when all of a sudden someone came in the room banging on a trash can, telling us to 'Drop your c*cks and grab your socks!'

We spent two weeks in receiving and outfitting waiting for a Barracks to open up, so we could start our training. So a eight week Boot Camp turned into ten weeks of fun.

To this very day I remember the first time I met both of our Company Commanders (Drill Instructors). MMC (SS) Hendriksen I met the day after we were issued our Dungarees. We were awakened really early in the morning to go to eat breakfast. I couldn't find my dungaree shirt anywhere. I was told to stay behind and FIND it, and then catch up to the Company at the Chow Hall. I looked all over the place. I looked under the racks, the head, in corners, and even outside. Because the rest of our shirts were sent off to be embroidered with our names, we should each only have one shirt. So, with no other choice I started going through everyone's Sea Bag. I finally found a shirt in the Sea Bag of some Latino guy from Honduras. Apparently he took my shirt, and put his in his Sea Bag. I'm sure it was an honest mistake. I put his shirt on, and hot-footed it to the Chow hall, only to find my company had finished with chow, and was forming up on the Grinder. SHIT!

Remembering the hints my Dad gave me for Boot Camp survival, I ran up to Chief Hendriksen and said, "Seaman Recruit Molly, Reporting as ordered!"
The Chief not knowing me from Adam said, "Who gave you orders to report to me?" I then explained to him what had occurred back at the barracks.

Chief: "Did you eat?"
Me: "No Sir, but I don't need to."
Chief: "dammit, everyone needs to eat" He then gave me a chit, to go eat in the straggler line, and told me to catch back up to the company at the R&O Barracks. (So goes Dad's rule to remain anonymous)

I met MS1 (SS) Orris a few days later when we were in the stencil room. This is where all the rest of our clothing that was not embroidered with our names, was stenciled by us, by hand. My real last name has nine freaking letters to it. To say the least I was having problems keeping up with everyone else. Petty Officer Orris was standing on this little stage in the center of the room. His eyes were shooting daggers into me as I tried like hell to keep up. His face had pure hatred in it as he watched me stencil my clothing. Eventually he had some others help me to keep up. This was not looking good. Nobody wants to be PVT Pyle, everyone wants to stay under the radar. Being on the CC's Shit list is never a good thing.

I soon dropped off the radar scope, only to surface later on in the training. I did however witness several men become targets, and it wasn't pretty. One poor soul forgot to lock his 'B' Drawer during an inspection. A 'B' Drawer is where ALL personal items are kept. I mean every letter, paychecks, whatever is personal it goes in that drawer. We lived on the 3rd deck of our barracks, which translates to the 3rd floor to the rest of you. Petty Officer Orris found the unlocked 'B' Drawer and proceeded to empty all of it's contents onto the the patio three stories down. The poor guy was then ordered to run down there pick up one item, then shout 'I will lock my 'B' Drawer next time Sir!' He was Sooo tired by the time he was done, it hurt to even look at him.

Another poor guy never should have been there in the first place. He must have been there to meet some Recruiter's quota. He was slow in the head, and couldn't comprehend even the most simple of tasks. One day Petty Officer Orris told him he better get out of his sight by the time he turned around. It was during a Barracks Inspection, I was directly across from this guy. It was so pitiful and amusing to watch this guy run back and forth trying to find somewhere to hide. He finally found a corner to bury his face in. That guy didn't last another week.

I have more that I will write in another post.

What's In A Name?

If you notice my web address, it has Cascara Tree in it. Did you know there is such an actual tree that grows out West?

The bark is used as a natural laxative, but you have to let the bark dry one year, otherwise it will induce vomiting.

So you could say this blog is the laxative of my mind. It helps loosen all the clogged thoughts in my brain.

Or, you could just say I have diarrhea of the mind.

88 Years

The Last time the White Sox won a World Series was in 1917. Comparatively

My Mariners have only been in existence since 1977. (So I have some hope yet.)

The funny thing about all of this is that last year's winners, The Boston Red Sox last win was in 1916. So history has repeated itself. I'm no fan of the White Sox, nor of the Astros, but I have to tip my hat to both teams. Although it was a shut-out series, both teams played their hearts out. The better team won it all, and they deserved it.

Wilma, Nana, Strike, and kids

Wilma came blowing through the other day. Everything in the Molly house is good to go, no problems. Although the storm did create a nice little tornado right down the street. We are lucky enough to have power, and all other utilities. That being said please donate to the Red Cross, or some other charity that is helping the victims in other parts of Florida.

We left Sunday afternoon for Jacksonville. Before we left I put all the storm shutters up, and cleaned all debris out of the yard that could turn into missles. On the way to Jax, we stopped at the Union Hall, where I cast my ballot for the new contract. As it looks right now we will be going out on strike sometime next week.

At Nana's house in Jax, we were made to feel as welcome as a cockroach on a dinner plate. Luckily we only stayed there for a day and a half. Nana was cool, but the rest of the family were being assholes. I'll just leave it at that. There is quite a bit of backstory to it all, but it just isn't worth getting into.


Three of the kids came home today. I was so very happy to get my hugs and kisses. I only was able to see them for about fifteen minutes, before Mrs. Molly hauled them off to the Church for the Wednesday night classes. I get to wake them all up though! Mrs. Molly lost the car in the Airport parking garage, she called in tears a couple of times. She spent almost two hours searching, finally they found the car and were able to get home. I tried to find out what happened when she got home, but Mrs. Molly was in no mood to discuss it.

That's all for now, THE game is on, silly!

Help

I would like to add this image into my header. Is there anyone out there that knows how?

I might be going into a small hiatus of about four days. I will return for sure in the evening on 10/26/05

New Link

I found this blog, by way of Miladysa's site. The woman that writes this blog is perhaps the funniest person I have ever read. Check her site out, you'll be glad you did.

She gets great joy mocking the deviants that find her blog while searching for freaky crap. She also has, in her archives, a really funny story about her friend Tommy and his big friend Clifford, that will have you falling out of your chair from laughing so hard.

Her baby is also a target of her humor.

http://karlababble.blogspot.com/

Paint Me Stupid, and Call Me a Moron

I made some salsa for tonight. I love fresh salsa, that crap in the jar is just that......crap.

Oh Man, it burns! Right this very second Tall Molly Man's little buddy is burning. Apparently dishwashing soap will not clean the pepper oil off very well.

After I was done preparing the salsa, I wiped some sleep out of my eye, it started to burn. So I go to the restroom, and wash my hands. After I was done washing my hands, I walked over to the urinal and took care of that business, then washed up again. Sitting here, things downstairs are getting warmer and warmer. Not a pleasant sort of warm, more like a red-hot burning sensation. I had to call and tell Mrs. Molly that the equipment might be out of service for a day or two. She just laughed at me, and said something about me being an idiot.

Pictures of You

I've been looking so long at these pictures of you
that I almost believe that they're real
I've been living so long with my pictures of you
that I almost believe that the pictures are all I can feel

Remembering you standing quiet in the rain
As I ran to your heart to be near and we kissed as the sky fell in
Holding you close how I always held close
In your fear remembering you

Running soft through the night
You were bigger and brighter than the snow
And screamed at the make-beleive
Screamed at the sky
And you finally found all your courage to let it all go

Remembering you fallen into my arms
Crying for the death of your heart
You were stone white so delicate lost in the cold
You were always so lost in the dark
Remembering you how you used to be slow drowned
You were angels so much more than everything

Oh hold for the last time then slip away quietly
Open my eyes but I never see anything
If only I had thought of the right words
I could have hold on to your heart
If only I'd thought of the right words
I wouldn't be breaking apart all my pictures of you

Looking So long at these pictures of you
But I never hold on to your heart
Looking so long for the words to be true
But always just breaking apart my pictures of you
There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more
Than to feel you deep in my heart
There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more
Than to never feel the breaking apart all my pictures of you

-The Cure, Show

Honey?

I received a new catalog the other day from Bass Pro Shops. This particular catalog has items that can be given gifts for the holidays. Perusing through this catalog I noticed several pages devoted to realtree camouflaged products. I understand the shirts, pants, shoes, hats, and even the firearm stocks.

These guys are taking this crap too far. I had to start laughing when I started to see paddles for ceiling fans, couch covers, and comforters for the bed.

What had me in tears from laughing so hard though, was this item.

I could just imagine Mrs. Molly in this outfit, sitting on my bed with it's camouflage comforter, waiting to start making passionate love, only to have me not find her because I couldn't see her.

"Honey, I smell your perfume, where exactly are you?"

I told you I was easily amused........

Utilities

Lady Longfellow suggested in response to my post on the USPS, that I should complain about Utility Companies. No problem, I have a beef with them as well.

When you grow up in a State that produces alot of power through Hydroelectric means, you would expect that power to be reasonably priced, right? Not true, it seems that the Utilities from the Washington State sell their energy to the fine people in the State of California for a nice tidy profit. In turn the very same companies buy power from their neighbors to the North in British Columbia. Just doesn't seem right, that because California cannot provide itself with it's own power, they buy it elsewhere, in turn causing the persons living in the provider State to pay higher rates for their power needs. It just doesn't seem right, but then again the profits must be fantastic. One could almost call it double dipping, if you consider that the exchange rate between the US Dollar and the Canadian dollar can give you greater buying power from BC Hydro, in turn sell it at a higher rate to your customers. Then you always have the income from selling off the power generated from your customer's backyard rivers, that you're selling to someone else.

Living in Florida, the majority of the power plants in my particular area are all coal powered. However, just recently in the news it was reported that our rates must be increased because the high fuel prices, and to help pay for the repairs from the hurricane damages sustained during the past two years. Our rates did indeed go up 'temporarily' last February to pay for last year's storms. In the meantime the very same company posted record profits....despite all the damage.

I find it remarkable that these monopolies are able to get away with this garbage. But then again, Political Campaign contributions talk better than the voice of the consumer.

Here we are about to get hit yet again by another Hurricane, I'm sure we will lose power for several days, because we are at the mercy of an antiquated power system, with above ground lines. Too hard to find problems, and too expensive to move the power underground say the power companies. What they mean to say, is it will cut too far into the almighty bottom line, and the quarterly earnings reports that Wall St. loves so much. Yes I love the Electric Company about as much as I love the USPS rate hikes.

Let's not even get into my feelings about Petroluem Companies.

Gray

So I'm cruising down the street and I happen to catch my image in the mirror. My eyes were treated to the sight of someone else's hair. Surely there must be something wrong with the mirror right?

I am only 35 years old. I shouldn't be starting this early right? My Dad didn't really start until his mid-40's. Then I remembered Mom. Mom is the one with the Indian blood. Mom is the one that used to frost her hair in her 20's, until she realized that it wasn't frost anymore. So then she started to dye it back natural. I guess the people in her family gray prematurely. Thanks for those genes Mom.

My temples are really getting gray, but I could live with that. What startled me is what I saw on top. Little silver hairs sparkling in the light from the moon roof. I have light brown hair, so this shit is really sticking out. I am only 35! This isn't fair!

Wait a minute, when I was 15, 35 was O-L-D.

My Grandpa used to use Grecian Formula and was 39 when he died. Actually he was almost 80, but he was playing the Jack Benny card.

So should I be vain, and dye my hair?

Should I just call it distinguished, and live with it?

Before you answer, how many people with gray hair do you see listening to hard rock, or bands like the Cure, Depeche Mode, or New Order?

I'm not vain, so I'm leaning toward being a gray haired rocker!

"Dude, who invited their Grandpa to the concert?"

USPS

I heard on the radio recently that the US Postal Service will be raising their rates once again. I have had a problem with this for a few years now. I have even written my Congressional Delegation several times on this issue. Many people don't realize that the Post Office is not a branch of the our government. Instead, like AMTRAK (Passenger Trains), The Postal Service is a government owned corporation.

Here is my issue with the rate hikes. The Postal Service has been competing for many years now with several privately owned corporations for the overnight delivery market. My question is why? Why in the hell does the USPS finfd the need to get into the ring with the likes of FEDEX, UPS, Emory, and newcomer DHL. Doesn't the market for this type of service seem to be flooded already with plenty of providers? Healthy competition between these companies is enough to keep the prices down without a Government owned company having to step in.

The other issue I have is the advertising and sponsorship the USPS undergoes. Just last night on my drive, I was listening to ESPN Radio's coverage of the NLCS. Guess what entity was credited with 'bringing the game to you'? The USPS!

The USPS also used to sponsor Lance Armstrong's racing team. Why? Why does the the USPS need to sponsor a bicycle racing team in France? Do the French use the USPS everyday? Are the French really interested in US Mail services? Where is the return for the investment? (Nothing against Lance)

I think that if the USPS would stick to delivering mail, and bulk packages like they did before they entered into the overnight market, we wouldn't have the excess spending, nor would we have rate hikes every two years.

In 1988 it cost 20 cents to mail a letter. It shouldn't cost double that amount today.

Something for you to think about.

I love my job

Mrs. Molly came home tonight. Ladies and Gentlemen, the dry spell is over.

It wasn't romantic, but we had a great time just talking. I missed her so much. I know she missed me too, and it was just great. I love my wife so very much. It just felt good to hold her again. Maybe I'll buy some roses on the way home and sprinkle the petals on the bed, as she sleeps.

Tonight I found out that I'm being forced to fly out to California for a week. Apparently there are manpower shortages for our site out there. This is the day after the Hurricane is supposed to roll through. This is also the day after we decide if we're going to go on strike. WTF?

Coming Home

Mrs. Molly comes home tomorrow, well actually today. She's only been gone for two days, but it feels like forever. It's just been me and my stupid cat.

I say my cat, because I'm the only one she will even really get close to. But she hates to be picked up or be petted. But, I like her, because she keeps to herself and doesn't meow all the time. In fact, I don't think I've ever heard her do anything but hiss. I feel sorry for her because we had her declawed, but the dummy still wants to go outside. I guess she still feels like a badass, but if she ever had to defend herself, she'd be screwed. So we keep her in, or at least try to. The sneaky shit is always trying to scoot through an open door.

My children are coming home too, they will be here in one week. I can't wait, I miss them so much. I cannot sleep very well without my family near.

Mostly I can't wait to see my wife. We have some catching up to do, if you know what I mean. The dryspell needs to end!

First Date

I met my wife a long time ago. I was still a sailor, and went to one of those hair salons you see in the Malls. I liked the way she washed my hair. In fact to this day I ask her to wash my hair. I always get the same response.....GFY, but it never hurts to ask. I kept going back to her every week, I liked her, she was funny. Finally tired of me not asking her out, I suffer from terminal shyness by the way, she asked me.

Here's the catch


She was going out to a Gay Bar.


I'm a Squid, the Navy kind of frowned on that sort of thing.

I like her



Fuck it, I'm going.


We walked through the door, and I was in total awe of what I saw. It wasn't what I imagined. Hey, I was ignorant, I figured there would be people copulating all over the place.
What did I see? A bunch of normal everyday people drinking and dancing. I saw people from all walks of life, all colors, all creeds. It didn't look like the sterotypical bar, like the Blue Oyster Bar, from the Police Acadamy movies. Nobody was sporting a leather codpiece and matching leather police hat. There were men and women there, they just weren't dancing any slow dances with members of the opposite sex.

I was a little uncomfortable at first. But, then again I usually am in new social situations anyway. My date (Mrs. Molly) left for the restroom leaving me to my own devices. I decided to people watch, and dive into my Pepsi. (I was underage.) Out of the corner of my eye I catch movement in my date's chair. I look over and here is this very pissy effeminate man, sitting there.

Him: "What are YOU doing here?"
Me: "What do you mean?"
Him: "You're obviously straight, why are YOU here?"
Me: "I am here with my date, she wanted to come here."
Him: "You people have your own bars, why do you have to come here?"
Me: "Calm down, I just came here to enjoy myself, I didn't come here to start any shit".
Him: "You shouldn't be here."
Me: "Dude, you have no idea."

My date, back from the restroom stared the little guy down, and he crawled back from whatever dark corner he came out of.

He was right, I didn't belong there. But the experience opened my eyes, and softened my thinking. I realized that night, that it doesn't matter what your orientation is because when you break it all down, we are all human.

Wilma! (foul language ahead)

Are fucking kidding me? As if 2004, and the previous few months wern't bad enough, now we have another Hurricane headed here?

I am so tired of boarding up windows, hoarding water, evacuating to nowhere, and price-gouging season (Formerly known as Hurricane Season.)

Fuck it....I'm going to get a lawn chair, a cooler of beer, a bag of Pork Rinds, and watch the show.

Morons

Watching the game last night, no I don't mean Monday Night Football. I mean the NLCS. (National League Championship Series) Baseball folks, that is my sport. I mean I like Football as much as anyone else I guess. But, to be honest with you, I'm an anomaly these days, I would rather watch Baseball than Football. Why? Because I like the duel between the Pitcher and the Batter. I like the strategy it takes to get a guy back to Home Plate. I like it that a guy can do good 1/3 of the time, and be a hero. I like Baseball.

This brings me to what this post is truly about. Morons, you know the people I writing about. The Smegheads (Red Dwarf rules!) that get on the cellphone, in the stands behind homeplate. You see them every game.

"Fred!, Dude! Do you see us on TV? Yeah, we're the ones waving."
"You do? Awesome!"
"Hey Babe, Fred says we're on TV!"

Hey Dipshit, do you really think the rest of the world cares? Do you really think the rest of us are looking at you with a sense of awe, because you're on TV? I have news for you.....NO! In fact I find you extremely irritating. I catch you out of the corner of my eye, and I miss the pitch.

For the woman behind Homeplate to the left, with the all of the cleavage. Yes, you caught my eye. Initially because you looked like you were sporting a push-up bra. But, then it occured to me that you had no idea you were at a very special game. You had like the best seats in the house. Do you realize how many people up in the nosebleed section would have given their left testicle or ovary for that seat you were occupying? You had no idea a game was even being played. I watched you gab to everyone within earshot of you. Seriously, if I was the guy that bought your ticket, I would have been really pissed off. Unless you were actually asking questions about the game, just STFU. I bet you're the type that just has to be the center of attention no matter where you go...hence all of the boob showing.

Morons........

Anyone Notice

Has anyone else noticed that when Jeanne Zalasko is doing the FOX Baseball Pregame Shows, they keep covering up her rather ample bosom with a sports ticker.

I cry foul!

Alone

Mrs. Molly went to her Grandmother's house in Jacksonville. Nana lives with her daughter's family. Nana gets to sit in a small room all by herself all day, while the family spends her money. I'm not saying we have never been a recepient of any of their money. But, these people are exploiting that poor woman. She bought the house they live in, payed off their former home, and bought all of their vehicles, motorcycles, and travel trailers. I'm getting mad just thinking of this. It's none of my business really, but I hate to see the weak taken advantage of, especially by their own family. I tried to get my Mother-In-Law to file charges with the state for elderly abuse (financially) The dumbass showed her cards, and now Nana claims that she will just say that she gave permission for any expenditures.

Anyway, now Mrs. Molly is up there in the thick of everything. I fear for her safety, because one of her cousins is a crack-smoking Dyke, (I have nothing against anyone that is gay, just this one girl, I'm just trying to give you the picture of what Mrs. Molly is facing.) with severe anger issue problems. I told my wife just to shut-up, let them get all excited, and but just sit there and take it. It works when she does it to me. I just don't trust the cousin, and I'm afraid something will happen to my wife or my unborn child.

Rush

(This is a very sexy song too.)

Walk with me
Open your sensitive mouth
And talk to me
Hold out your delicate hands
And feel me
Couldn't make any plans
To conceal me

Open your sensitive mouth
Hold out your delicate hands
With such a sensitive mouth
I'm easy to see through
When I come up
When I rush
I rush for you

Cry for you
Seen the tears
Roll down from my eyes for you
Heard my truth
Distorted to lies for you
Watched my love
Becoming a prize for you

Seen the tears in my eyes
Heard my truth turn to lies
Seen the tears in my eyes
I'm not proud of what I do
When I come up
When I rush
I rush for you

I come up to meet you
Up there somewhere
When I rush to greet you
My soul is bared
Gave more for you
Dropped my crutches
And crawled on the floor for you
Went looking behind every door for you
And because of the things
That I saw for you
I spiritually grew
When I come up
When I rush
I rush for you

-Depeche Mode, Songs of Faith and Devotion

A Favorite

Walking In My Shoes

I would tell you about the things they put me through
The pain I've been subjected to
But the Lord himself would blush
The countless feasts laid at my feet
Forbidden fruits for me to eat
But I think your pulse would start to rush

Now I'm not looking for absolution
Forgiveness for the things I do
But before you come to any conclusions
Try walking in my shoes
Try walking in my shoes

You'll stumble in my footsteps
Keep the same appointments I kept
If you try walking in my shoes
If you try walking in my shoes

Morality would frown upon
Decency look down upon
The scapegoat fate's made of me
But I promise now, my judge and jurors
My intentions couldn't have been purer
My case is easy to see

I'm not looking for a clearer conscience
Peace of mind after what I've been through
And before we talk of any repentance
Try walking in my shoes
Try walking in my shoes

You'll stumble in my footsteps
Keep the same appointments I kept
If you try walking in my shoes
If you try walking in my shoes
Try walking in my shoes

Now I'm not looking for absolution
Forgiveness for the things I do
But before you come to any conclusions
Try walking in my shoes
Try walking in my shoes

You'll stumble in my footsteps
Keep the same appointments
I keptIf you try walking in my shoes
You'll stumble in my footsteps
Keep the same appointments I kept
If you try walking in my shoes
Try walking in my shoes
If you try walking in my shoes
Try walking in my shoes

-Depeche Mode, Songs of Faith and Devotion

Another Favorite

This is one of the sexiest songs I have ever listened to. I love this song........

In Your Room

In your room
Where time stands still
Or moves at your will
Will you let the morning come soon
Or will you leave me lying here
In your favourite darkness
Your favourite half-light
Your favourite consciousness
Your favourite slave

In your room
Where souls disappear
Only you exist here
Will you lead me to your armchair
Or leave me lying here
Your favourite innocence
Your favourite prize
Your favourite smile
Your favourite slave
I'm hanging on your words
Living on your breath
Feeling with your skin
Will I always be here

In your room
Your burning eyes
Cause flames to arise
Will you let the fire die down soon
Or will I always be here
Your favourite passion
Your favourite game
Your favourite mirror
Your favourite slave
I'm hanging on your words
Living on your breath
Feeling with your skin
Will I always be here
Will I always be here

-Depeche Mode Songs of Faith and Devotion

Attractive...but not THAT attractive

Ok, I'm secure enough in my sexuality to recognize that someone of the same sex is attractive. I can recognize this without wanting to bed a man. I just don't have that desire in me right now. So in response to Blondie's latest and greatest list of 'Do-Ables'. Here is Molly's list of men that are attractive, in no particular order.

1) Pierce Brosnan

2) Sean Connery

3) Eric Bana

4) Brad Pitt

5) George Clooney

6) Josh Hartnett

7) Ryan Gosling

8) Vin Diesel

9) Denzel Washington

10) Eddie Murphy

Ok, call me queer, whatever. Like I said before, I like women, and I am comfortable enough in myself to realize you can find beauty in just about anything, or anyone. Would I kiss or go to bed with any of these men. I highly doubt it. Even if their was a chance, that any of these guys would find me attractive. I know I could never go through with it. I mean, I gag on my toothbrush, for crying out loud.

Commercials

I'm here watching the Angels and White Sox play. (I earlier saw Houston inflict even more damage.)

Some of these new commercials are freaking awesome. My two current favorites:

1) Dude sitting on a bench takes a drink of (beer?) and says something like "Oh, that's nice!"
The problem is that his wife/girlfriend's Mom just happens to be passing by in a bathing suit. Girl gets up disgusted, leaving guy on bench next to the husband...who is giving him a mighty funny look.

2) Peyton Manning is a 'fan' of everyday people. He holds up a DE-CAF sign, while chanting it to his diner waitress. He asks some store clerk to sign a loaf of bread for his brother, and my personal favorite, he gets some waiter's apron and goes absolutely apeshit, with glee.

I'm easily amused.......

AHHHHHH (Rambles)

Guess what it's about 83 degrees with only around 50% RH. That means it feels really good here right now. Perfect beach weather, the oppressive heat of Summer is starting to wane. It reminds me of the Summers of my youth. Nice, warm, with a nice breeze.

Anyone Jealous?

Ok, I know it's been awhile, I'm starting ogle the women joggers on the causeway, and the Bikinis as I travel down by the beach.


Quick joke:

A man has just been sent to prison for a few years for embezzlement. Arriving to the prison he is met with catcalls and is called a fish. The new prisoner is rightfully very scared that he will become his new cellmate's bitch. As he is led into his cell, he spys his new 'friend'. The guy stands about 6'5" around 280 lbs, and has arms the size of the new guy's thighs. The cell door slams shut, and the big man asks "I have one question for you."
"Yyyes?" stammers the new guy.
"Do you want to be the husband, or the wife?"
Feeling very relieved at the fact that he has the option of not being poked he answers "I'll be the husband."
"Good" Replies the big man, "Now, get over here and suck your wife's dick."


Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all night. Hello...anyone there?...hello? (sounds of chirping crickets)

oh well......

Pain

I have been in alot of pain in my life. Some of it of my own doing, some of it from my Mother's hand. This post is in response to what Blondie wrote.

I was about seven years old. I was playing Basketball for the Boy's Club, and was on the #1 Team....pretty good for a bench warmer.

We used to keep rolls of pennies in a basket next to the Living Room closet. Since there was a few gumball machines at the Club, I decided I should take some pennies, and have a Fiesta. I hid two rolls of pennies in my gym shorts (I was packing ladies!) When I got there for the game, I gave one roll to my friend Lee, and kept one for myself. All I remember is eating lots of those colored licorice candies, they were like Mike-N-Ikes, but with licorice flavoring.

Anyways, I ate all fifty cents worth in that roll. Somehow Mom found out a day or so later.

To this day I remember a wooden spoon broken across my ass, only to have another one appear. I remember screaming at Mom to stop. I remember the blows coming faster and faster, I remember a long hall way, and traveling the distance to the rythmn of my Mom's hand. I remember the end, and that's it for that day.

Two days later I was outside watching a Movie (I lived across the street from a Drive-In) My Dad came up to me, told me I was the man of the house, and that he was leaving. I remember feeling pride because I was now THE MAN, bewilderment as to what that meant, and sadness because it was my fault that Dad left...because of the pennies.

I remember getting on my knees and praying that Dad would come home. I remember finding him in Mom's bedroom one morning, knocking off a piece, and being confused...how come Dad still had to leave?


I remember alot....I'm scared of what I don't remember.

template

I'm trying to adjust the template colors...please forgive me if it looks ugly.

My background is supposed to be forest green, at least that's what it looks like on the preview.

***OK, now it really sucks, bear with me as I try to fix this freaking thing.***

**Is Tan ok? I can't find a good color, for this stinking thing. I was trying to make it look woodsy, and ended up with crap.***

The Chasm

There are times when Mrs. Molly and I can be sitting right next to each other, yet we can be miles apart. It's during these times that she doesn't want me to touch her, hold her, or even be sitting next to her. It's very frustrating, especially when I'm trying my very best to be a good husband, and do the things she wants me to do.

Yesterday I came really close to 'getting some' twice. Both chances were shot to shit, one of which because she thought I didn't miss the children enough. The other, because I didn't have any clothing on, when I came out of the bathroom. (I had just washed, and everything!)
I realize I'm no Adonis, or anyone else on Blondie's list of hotties, but I'm no slouch either. Ok, maybe a bit of a slouch. I really need to put the weight machine back together. She later apologized, and said it wasn't me, it was because she feels fat. Umm, I was just complimenting you on how you looked as I was giving you a rubdown, before my bath. I fixed you breakfast and dinner. Ok, the eggs were a bit runny....but I tried.

I am hoping this is just one of those pregnant moments. It's been awhile since I've gone through the pregnant woman insecurity thing. I'm sure she feels I'm about ready to jump ship at any opportunity. I do not want to leave her, in fact I'm quite smitten with my wife. I don't just do nice things to get into her pants, it's a nice side effect though. I do these things because I LOVE her. I happen to find her VERY attractive, and pleasing sexually. She does/done things with and for me that others can only dream of. Without getting too graphic, let's just say several fantasies have been fulfilled.

I hate this distance though, it kills me to be so close and so far away at the same time. How can I be so close, and still sit there and miss her?....Molly muses, but not amused.

People Watching

This is going to be quick, baseball is on!

Does anyone else like Thrift Stores? Big Lots? How about Dollar Stores?

I love going to the thrift store, I like going through and finding things. If I had a different set of circumstances, I would probably be one of those annoying Garage Sale junkies. I don't go through peoples trash (Mimi), but I do like these stores.

I think I mentioned that I like to people watch. Mrs. Molly and I took a trip to the Flea Market yesterday. We didn't buy much, some Dead Sea Salt products, some tooth paste squeezers, and Boiled Peanuts. (You have to try these, if you never have.)

The best part of the day, was watching the shoppers, and the sellers. OMG, the people I was able to catch glimpses of, was awesome. Grannies in Bikerware, Pregnant women in slutty dresses. Some of the people were a reconstructive Dentist's dream.

I love to people watch.

(Three Weeks, no Nookie, makes Molly an uptight boy!)

Western Washington

How do I describe where I come from? I guess I could say it's green, and leave it at that. There is so much more to my home. (Yes, I may be here in Florida, but my home will always be Washington.)

Yes it's cloudy and rains all of the time. It wouldn't get so green up there if it didn't rain. If it's raining in the lower altitudes, you can almost bet that in the colder months there is some snow dropping up on high. Which is very good news for the ski and snowboard crowd. There are several places that I would love to show off to people.

-Orcas Island, my Mom's family homesteaded on this Island, which is part of the San Juan Islands. They had a pretty big farm in the Crow Valley. There is a little Museum located in the villiage of West Sound. If you go there you can see a bunch of names on a quilt. Our family name (Maternal) is on that quilt. The family lost the property during the Great Depression. I guess the tax bill was too high and it was auctioned away. There is also a really nice resort called Rosario Resort on the island.

-San Juan Island, this island has many interesting places to look at. Roche Harbor, if I remember right was a Limestone quarry. Now it caters to tourists. There is British Camp and American Camp on the island. During the middle of the Nineteenth Century, before our Civil War, another war almost erupted because of a loose pig that started to eat from someone's garden. The island was divided because an absolute boundry between the U.S. and Canada was never fully established. General George Pickett of the C.S.A. was then a U.S. Army Captain, and helped to avert, a new war with the Brits. The book Pig War Islands can explain it all much better than me.

-Ladder Creek Falls, is located behind a Hydroelectric Powerhouse for Seattle City Light, in Newhalem. If you look walk the trail at night, you will see one of the most spectacular sights you will ever witness. There is a National Park, or National Forest Campground nearby to stay at.

There are many more places that I love, and will write them down in the future. I miss my home, and would love to be there right now. I guess I'm getting that way because we have a steady rain falling here at the moment.

*I'll be back on Saturday.

Pet Peeve

Ok, here's the deal. I have this thing with people chewing with their Effing mouths open. Right this very second some F-stick sitting right behind me is eating with his M-Fing mouth wide the eff open. WTF! Did mommy not teach you any GD manners? For crying out loud people, you are adults! Act like it!

Countries

I have been to the following Countries.




create your own visited countries map
or vertaling Duits Nederlands

Seeing it on the map, I'm not as worldly as I thought. :)

States I've been to

I have been to the following states.



create your own visited states map

Migration

It's getting to be that time of year again. Flocks of them are coming here, as they do every year. They leave messes, are irritating, and get in the way of the rest of us.

Who am I speaking of? The GD Snowbirds. When I start seeing more and more out-of-state license plates, I begin to cringe. Snowbirds and tourists piss me off. Neither understand simple rules of the road. It's almost like once they leave their place of origin, all common sense is tossed out the window.

The old ones are seriously cranky. They're mad because they can't do the things they used to. They're mad because their lives didn't turn out the way they expected. I used to think that the geriatric crowd was pretty nice, loved children, and were pretty helpful. Hah! Fooled me, must be a whole new crowd down here in the Sunshine State. They are rude, hateful, and cuss more than me. (That, my dear readers, is a lot of cussing.)

I'm having a I hate Florida day. It doesn't show does it?

Ok It's Official

I officially miss my children. They have been gone for a week and a half to Grandma's. Today I looked at a picture my daughter colored and longed to hear her tell me she loves me. I went by her bedroom and peered in. I saw her pink bedspread, and her dollies situated neatly along the wall. I saw her little pink TV, sitting on the floor. (Which reminds me, I need to get her something to set it on.)

I went by the two youngest boys' room. I saw all of their Thomas trains strewn about in the toy basket. I can imagine them both making choo-choo noises. Their beds have neetly made, awaiting their arrival.

Wandering into the oldest boy's room, I spy his X-Box laying there waiting for me to fire it up. Except I can't the shitbird took the power cord with him. I guess he doesn't want Dad messing with his games. :)

Looking on the Fridge, I see the Ultra-Sound picture of our newest addition. We're hoping it will be a girl. Actually I don't care what the baby is, as long as it makes it to term, and is healthy. My wife and daughter are really wanting a girl to balance out some of the Testosterone in the house. I'm excited and worried at the same time. I'm excited, because a baby is so wonderful to hold, to smell, and to snuggle with. (I'm going to be a terrible Grandpa one day.)

The worry comes from the fact that my wife could die this time. Apparently he utereus is really thin. If she isn't carefull she could tear it, and bleed out. Since the blood would not be visible, it would be very easy to not know it happened, until the next Dr. appointment. Or, worse.......

I felt the baby kick the other day, and this kid kicked hard! I don't think she's quite 20 weeks, and the kid is kicking like a soccer pro.

Anyways, I miss my kids. I miss their arguing, whining, crying, and fighting. I miss their hugs, kisses, and the way they smell. Except for the youngest, when he craps himself.

I miss the way everyone runs to the door to say goodbye, when I leave for work in the evening. I miss watching everyone come awake when I get home in the morning. I miss having my family close to me. I worry when they are not here. I guess every parent is like this.

My oldest told me a couple of weeks ago, that he wants to go to Annapolis, and become a Naval Aviator. Last year it was Annapolis, and then into the Marines. I am so glad he wants to be a Naval Officer. All my talk about stupid Jarheads payed off. (My apologies to Marines everywhere.)

Ok, I'm done rambling for the night.

Mimi's List

Mimi has invited one and all to make up a list of people that would turn you off to the point that if you are gay, you would go straight, or vice-versa. Here is Molly's list of Women that would make me into a Peter-Puffer;

10) Geena Davis: Her cheek implants look like awful.
9) Pam Anderson: Something about Hepatitus C just doesn't do it for me.
8) Courtney Thorne-Smith: I think the Doc shaved a little too much off of her nose.
7) Star Jones: Need I say more?
6) Anna Nicole Smith: Too boozy
5) Brittney Spears-Federline
4) Madonna: I can't believe I ever had a thing for that hag.
3) Joan and Melissa Rivers: Barbie Dolls have less plastic.
2) Tara Reid: Bad Lipo job.
1) Paris Hilton.....ack!

I would also like to point out that some of us guys actually like REAL women. Breasts that look like grapefruit, or basketballs are not attractive. Faces that are stretched back so tight, you could use them as snare drums are repulsive. Oh, and lots of make-up can be terrible too.

More Drunken Sailors (very long)

Safety Standowns are a regular occurrence in the Navy. Everything shuts down for a day, and the unit will get together, and watch boring safety films, and listen to lectures on how much safer we could be doing our jobs. These things were usually held at least once a quarter. One time a few of us decided we would like to skip it, we already felt pretty safe.

The plan was that Rick and myself were going to host a little party in our barracks rooms, for lunch. After lunch we were all going to go over to the base theatre for the lectures. We had a few cases of beer, and a couple of slices of Bologna, we were good to go!

I ended up with about twelve people in my little one man barracks room. I'm surprised the fire alarm didn't go off, because eleven of us were smoking. A couple of guys decided that they needed a shortcut out of the room, so they opened the window, kicked out the screen, and dropped out to the ground that was eight feet below.

Soon it was time to go over to the theatre for the rest of the day. Myself and a handful of others decided we were safe already, and we didn't need to go. So we gave our SS#'s to our friends, and they signed in for us. Since we were out of beer and Bologna, we decided to move the party to Mark's apartment out in town. After all, we could get in less trouble out there right?

On the way to Mark's a resupply stop was made at a convenient store. With more beer in hand we walked into Mark's apartment. Mark lived with his girlfriend, and she kept a really nice house. It looked really nice when we got there...... After awhile someone got the bright idea that we should go swimming at the pool. Sounded good to me, so off we trekked to the pool, with our bottles of beer in hand. The pool was right next to the managers office. It was kind of chilly out since it was March, but we weren't feeling much at that point. The Manager must have heard our noise, and came out to tell us that glass bottles were not allowed in the pool area. 'Ok, sorry about that." was our reply. As soon as she turned her back Chris threw a bottle into the pool, he wanted to dive after it. Mark was trying to calm Chris down, after all this was his home. So Chris calmed down, and sat down at one of the tables to finish his drink. I don't remember how it happened but, somehow a bottle of beer went crashing next to the open sliding glass door to the Manager's office. She came out, and kicked us out of the pool area. I think the bottle was a replacement bottle for someone with an empty. So we go back to the apartment.

This is where things go wrong. We were pretty well oiled by this time. I remember there was a fluffy white cat somewhere in the house. I hadn't seen it since we initially walked through the door, but that cat was there....and I wanted to find it, because I found some hair clippers. I had the feeling that the cat didn't like it's current hairstyle. I was pretty sure that cat wanted to be a bald pussy. ;) Mark asked what I was doing with his clippers, I told him my plan, and he took my clippers away. That's when we went out to the balcony where another cat was perched on the balcony below us. We decided the cat was thirsty, so we gave it some beer to drink, well actually we poured beer on the cat. Did you know unlike dogs, cats don't like beer?

Chris' ballcap fell to the grass below, and he went to go get it, of course we tried to pour beer, and spit on him. He was a viable target after all. On his way up the stairs Chris decided that the porch lights on the other Apartments were annoying, so he proceeded to break them. When he finally got back to 'our' apartment he was covered in blood. He was sent off to the bathroom to clean up a bit. After he returned to the living room, there was a knock at the door. I was standing behind Chris when he opened the door. Here was a guy in civilian clothing with his Police Belt on. He asked where the occupant of the house was. Chris said it's not me, and slammed the door in his face. Chris then ran back to the bathroom to hide in the shower. Mark answered the door and went outside to speak to the off-duty Orange Park Police Officer, who apparently managed security at Mark's complex.

Mark came back in and informed us that we had to leave, his lease was in jeopardy. If we didn't leave he was going to get kicked out. We didn't want Mark to get kicked out, but none of us were in any condition to drive. I guess that didn't matter to the cop, because we HAD to go. Mark and another guy felt like they could drive. SO Mark, Rick, Chris, and I piled into Rick's Ford Escort. The other guys got into Steve's Ghetto Cruiser. Rick was up front with Mark telling him to run into Steve's car, he kept saying 'I have insurance go ahead nail him!' While at a stoplight, Rick asked some old lady in a Cadillac if she wanted to race for car titles. I'm pretty sure the old lady declined. While this was going on, Chris and I were fucking with Mark. Covering his eyes, punching him, tickling, you know, we were helping him drive.

I guess Mark got a little pissed, or felt like screwing with us a little bit. Because when we got to NAS JAX we took the back road to the Hospital, but we turned toward the Gun Range, and some kind of sports field. There was a little circular turnaround before you got to the field, so you could either continue on to the field, or just keep going around the circle. We did neither, Mark drove right onto the field. This is where things go REALLY bad.

Everything at this point goes into slow-motion. We started yelling at Mark to stop, but then I glance down at Mark's hand as he reaches for the Parking Brake handle.......'Mark, No!!!!!!!!
Mark yanks on the handle and pulls the brake, he was attempting to do a power spin, but we ended up on our roof. Chris didn't have a seatbelt on, and ended up sprawled on the roof. Rick, who had his right hand out the window ended up with a broken wrist. I had my seatbelt on, and when we came to a stop, I was hanging there like a slab of beef in a meat locker. We all scrambled out of the car to assess the situation. We rolled the car back over, and pushed it over to the parking lot. While Chris and I changed the front right tire, (The tire blew, and that's what caused the flip.) Mark and Rick picked up the debris in the field.

I was really nervous and kept peeking up over the hood to see if the Base Cops were coming. Well, guess who showed up? Yep, a damn patrol car started coming down the road.

Me: "Dude, here comes a cop!"
Chris: "Don't worry, we're cool, just don't panic."
Me: "Don't panic, Dude, we just flipped a fucking car...ON BASE!"
Chris: "Molly shut up and help me."

I took one more glance over the hood to watch the patrol car take the traffic circle back out of the area. SAVED!

Now to look at the car, there was no way in hell we could drive it back to the barracks. But, we had to get out of there. Since Rick had a busted hand, Chris took the wheel, and we started off for the barracks. At the intersection to the main road, we watched as Chris' wife drove by in their mini-van. She glanced over, did a double-take, shook her head and kept driving. You see the windshield was partially caved in right down the middle. Chris mentioned that he probably wouldn't be getting any for awhile after this, and then we took off.

We made it back to the barracks, where we found a crowd of about twenty of our friends waiting for us. Most of these people were at the earlier party, and had gone on to the Theatre for the lectures. Steve saw the car, and us, and asked 'WTF? You guys WERE right behind me.'

We told him the story, and then had to come up with a way to cover up the car, and get Rick over to get his hand worked on without spilling the beans. Rick ended up telling the Doc that he broke his hand while jogging. The car was towed away a day or so later, when our illustrious Division Officer started hearing rumors. I ended up pissing blood for a couple of days, but all in all we came out of it ok, after all we were safe!

Table Dance (Long Post)

I don't care much for Strippers, but I did a table dance once. (Remember, Molly is a MAN.) Right around ten years ago, my wife and I were separated for a time. I lived in the barracks, and did alot of crazy shit. The following is an example of that craziness.

I was on Shore Duty during my second tour in the Navy. My Shore Tour was in a Helicopter (Helo) Training Squadron. Part of the training we provided for the replacement pilots and aircrew, was Anti-Submarine Warfare. Sounds pretty rigorous doesn't it? Guess where it takes place? The Bahamas!

I was in the Airframe shop, we took care of Flight Controls, Hydraulic Systems, Landing Gear, and the Airframe itself. Four of us Airframers were 'selected' to go on the Det to AUTEC (Bahamas). Most all of us came from Strike-Fighter squadrons, and were pretty much ashamed to have to work on the lowly Helo, let alone the Pilots. Most folks in Naval Aviation don't think to highly of the Rotor Heads. That is until they need to be rescued.

OK, back on topic.......

We got there, put the birds to bed, and immediately hit the base liquor store. After doing our 3S preps (Shit, Shower, & Shave) and some pre-party drinking, we headed over to the base club.

We spent the better part of five hours getting VERY drunk, and VERY rowdy. At one point our Pilots came into the club to have a few drinks, and to play this stupid tabletop shuffleboard game. Being in a lubricated state that we were. We started accosting the pilots, and in particular our Division Officer. We duly informed each and everyone of them that they were all pussies, and should all be ashamed that they were not 'Real Pilots'. We then called out our Division Officer, questioning his manhood, and informing him that 'Real Pilots' buy their troops drinks. After about fifteen minutes of listening to us berate all of them. Someone finally sent the D.O. over to buy us drinks. All he got was a 'bout Time, and a list of drinks for us. (We were some serious assholes.) After drinking the drinks we then switched tactics, and tried to compliment our 'Fine Pilots' on their flying abilities......the tactic bombed, and no more drinks were forthcoming, Bastards!

Sitting in amongst us rowdies were several of our Female Sailors. A song came on that I liked, and I started to 'dance' in my seat. One of the gals then suggested I get up and dance.

Me: "Only if you pay me."
Her: "I'll give you five for a dance"
Me: "Where? Out there" Motioning to the dance floor.
Her: "No, right here on the table."
Me: "Five dollars, that's all I'm worth?"
Her: "Ok, six dollars."
Me: "You're On."
Her: "No, You are"

I got up on the chair, did my best stripper dance, and received a ten spot in my shorts for the effort. Either she couldn't count, or I did a fantastic job. I'd prefer to think it was the latter.

I'm a little foggy about why we had to leave, it was either we accosted Shore Patrol, or we closed the place down. Not sure, but It wouldn't surprise me at all if we weren't just kicked out. I do remember one of the other guys ripping up the carpet border edge thingy that was at the edge of the dance floor. (He was sitting next to it.)

We were invited over to the girls' room at the BOQ (Usually Officers Quarters, but they didn't have separate rooms for Enlisted Females.) We got there and found that one of the girls had a bottle of Peach Brandy, that she was going to take home. Let's just say that bottle never made it out of the room. The owner of said bottle was a little pissed at me. In fact I know she was because she smacked in the head hard enough to knock me ass-over-tea kettle off of the bed.

We promptly left, and headed back to our rooms........we had to be to work in an hour or so.

Some of us were dumb enough to try and get a little sleep...dumb, never works. After getting rudely awakened by my roommates alarm, we cleaned up, threw on the coveralls, and made our way over to the hangar. Guess who was an hour late? Me, apparently I was on an early crew, for the first flight of the morning. OOPS...nobody told me. Not that it would have mattered.

If anyone had an Airframe problem they would have had to find us out back, laying on the side walk....checking the inside of our eyelids for defects. One smart ass even put wheel chocks on us so we wouldn't roll down the hill. Safety First!

While laying there I felt someone nudge me with their boot. Slowly opening one eye, I spied my Division Officer ready to fly. I groaned a little, and he asked 'Who's the Pussy now?' Haha, Bitch! I didn't say that, but I sure thought it.

After all of the flights were done for the day, the Senior Chief in charge, gathered all of us together for an ass chewing. Something about being drunk, and embarrassing ourselves, and some other shit....who cares. I happened to be sitting amongst a few broken bales of rags. It made a pretty nice bed. While Senior was busy bitching, I began to feel REALLY sick to my stomach. (Must have been something I ate. LOL) I pulled a few rags up to my face and began to throw-up into the rags. It was all silent, the only thing you could hear was a little bit of water and Tylenol splash to the floor. Nothing but water, because that's all I could even think about putting in there. One of the fellas sitting next to me heard the splashing, looked at me, and asked me, using only his mouth, no words, if I was puking. I could only nod, and continued my show. I call it a show, because I was actually sitting behind Senior Chief. Everyone else could see what I was silently doing. Some of them were smiling, a few snickered, but most just sat there shaking their heads. So here he is bitching everyone out for partying last night and not being ready, they are snickering, and only pissing him off even more. It was quite comical, I would have laughed, if I didn't feel so bad.

We finally were released from the tirade, with warnings of no repeat performances. We went back to the barracks, took a two hour nap, and started the whole process all over again. This time it involved a sinking dinghy that someone appropriated.

You know, I was never volunteered to go down there after that, I wonder why?

Guilty Pleasures (Updated)

Ok, I'm going to start a game of tag. The subject of this game of tag is a list of five (5) guilty pleasures. Here are mine:

1) The Wiggles, they rock!
2) Reading Blogs, I'm hooked.
3) Cigarettes, I'm a secret smoker.
4) Beef Jerky, It's like Potato Chips, I can't stop at just one.
5) People Watching in public places.

Ok, that was pretty hard.

The following people can consider themselves tagged.

1) Angel Q
1) Ruthie/Blondie
1) Lady Longfellow
1) Shirley
1) Mimi
1) Livey
1) The Anti-Wife

You're all #1

Recomended

I'm going to spill some more beans about me; I'm a big softie when it comes to movies. I get all teary eyed for sappy love stories. It's very embarassing for me to admit. But, hey I'm anonymous..right?

I just got done watching an excellent movie. The Road Home is also known as The Pitcher and The Pinup. Don't get scared it's not what you think. The movie is about two people that grow up together, yet cannot seem to actually take it to the next level. The guy in the picture happens to be a hot prospect for the Majors. The girl, cannot seem to keep her life together. She always ends up with the wrong guy, but always has the Pitcher on her mind.

The movie, though low budget, has to be one of best movies I have ever watched. The star of the movie also wrote, produced, and directed the film. He did an excellent job, I hope to see more of his films in the future, if he ever makes one.

If you happen to be flipping through the pay channels, or see this flick on the shelf in the video store, give it a shot.

Dream House

IF I ever strike it rich by hitting those six lucky numbers, I have a house I'd like to build.

My dream home is a Log House, on a small ranch somewhere out West. The house will have a Great Room, with huge windows overlooking some mountains. A stone chimney will be at the center of the room. rustic art, and an outdoorsman look will decorate.

There will be at least five bedrooms, for my rather large family. The Master Suite will have a king bed made out of peeled logs. The floor will either be carpeted, or wood floor covering. The Master Bath will have a garden tub, known as a 'Fuck Tub', in my house. The tub will have water jets, to soothe muscles after a days labor. The closets, there will be one for me, and one for Mrs. Molly, will be nice and big.

The Kitchen will have an island, and I want to have pots and pans to hang above it. The sink will be an emerald green color. A nice large pantry would be nice to have.

Outside, a deck off of the Great Room, a nice large deck, might have two levels to it. A Hot Tub sunken into the deck would be perfect. Just off of the deck, I would like to have a brick bbq built, you know, with a chimney on it.

A garage/workshop detached from the house would be nice too. I would have a garage area to work on vehicles, or equipment. The workshop area would be for woodworking. I used to love woodworking in school. I haven't done any since, but I would love to make my own furniture. I would have a nice garden to grow food in. I would also have a few cows, and some horses for the kids. I think it would be fun to ride a horse out and check the fences everyonce in awhile.

I'm sure the kids would love a nice play area. I would build my daughter a scale house for her to play in. The boys would get a nice wooden playground.

There is more to this dream, but it stays with me, it's mine.

Banned Books

Apparently the following books have been listed on some group's banned list. I found this on another Blog out there, my apologies to that person, I forgot which. But, the point is to spread the word and stop this kind of censorship. I am going to bold type all of these books I have read.

Scary Stories (Series) by Alvin Schwartz
Daddy's Roommate by Michael Willhoite
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
Harry Potter (Series) by J.K. Rowling (watched the films, I like them.)
Forever by Judy Blume
Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
Alice (Series) by Phyllis Reynolds
NaylorHeather Has Two Mommies by Leslea Newman
My Brother Sam is Dead by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier
The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
The Giver by Lois Lowry
It's Perfectly Normal by Robie Harris
Goosebumps (Series) by R.L. Stine
A Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Newton Peck
The Color Purple by Alice Walker (saw the movie)
Sex by Madonna
Earth's Children (Series) by Jean M. Auel
The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson
A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle
Go Ask Alice by Anonymous
Fallen Angels by Walter Dean Myers
In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
The Stupids (Series) by Harry Allard one of them
The Witches by Roald Dahl
The New Joy of Gay Sex by Charles Silverstein
Anastasia Krupnik (Series) by Lois Lowry
The Goats by Brock Cole
Kaffir Boy by Mark Mathabane
Blubber by Judy Blume
Killing Mr. Griffin by Lois Duncan
Halloween ABC by Eve Merriam
We All Fall Down by Robert Cormier
Final Exit by Derek Humphry
The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead
GeorgeThe Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison
What's Happening to my Body? Book for Girls: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Daughters by Lynda Madaras
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
Beloved by Toni Morrison
The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton
The Pigman by Paul Zindel
Bumps in the Night by Harry Allard
Deenie by Judy Blume
Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes
Annie on my Mind by Nancy Garden
The Boy Who Lost His Face by Louis Sachar
Cross Your Fingers, Spit in Your Hat by Alvin Schwartz
A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
Sleeping Beauty Trilogy by A.N. Roquelaure (Anne Rice)
Asking About Sex and Growing Up by Joanna Cole
Cujo by Stephen King
James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl
The Anarchist Cookbook by William Powell
Boys and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
Ordinary People by Judith Guest
American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis saw the movie
What's Happening to my Body? Book for Boys: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Sons by Lynda Madaras
Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret by Judy Blume (Oh my, like nobody has ever questioned God's existense before?)
Crazy Lady by Jane Conly
Athletic Shorts by Chris Crutcher
Fade by Robert Cormier
Guess What? by Mem Fox
The House of Spirits by Isabel Allende saw the movie
The Face on the Milk Carton by Caroline Cooney
Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut
Lord of the Flies by William Golding
Native Son by Richard Wright
Women on Top: How Real Life Has Changed Women's Fantasies by Nancy Friday
Curses, Hexes and Spells by Daniel Cohen
Jack by A.M.
HomesBless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo A. Anaya
Where Did I Come From? by Peter Mayle
Carrie by Stephen King
Tiger Eyes by Judy Blume
On My Honor by Marion Dane Bauer
Arizona Kid by Ron Koertge
Family Secrets by Norma Klein
Mommy Laid An Egg by Babette Cole
The Dead Zone by Stephen King saw the movie
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison
Always Running by Luis Rodriguez
Private Parts by Howard Stern
Where's Waldo? by Martin Hanford (are you serious, the find Waldo Books?)
Summer of My German Soldier by Bette Greene
Little Black Sambo by Helen Bannerman
Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett
Running Loose by Chris Crutcher
Sex Education by Jenny Davis
The Drowning of Stephen Jones by Bette Greene
Girls and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
How to Eat Fried Worms by Thomas Rockwell (Hey, he wanted a mini-bike!)
View from the Cherry Tree by Willo Davis Roberts
The Headless Cupid by Zilpha Keatley Snyder
The Terrorist by Caroline Cooney
Jump Ship to Freedom by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier

Some of these were required reading in High School for crying out loud. WTF is wrong with people? Banning literature is NOT the answer, don't like it? Then don't buy it, or check it out. Don't press YOUR values on everyone else. Everyone in this Country has a Freedom of Choice....use yours.

I invite everyone that happens upon this sorry excuse for a blog, to bold the books you have read.

Senses and Memories

You know how songs, especially older songs, can take you back in time for just a minute? I was thinking of this on my drive today. I found the Generation X station, and relived most of my life on my drive to work.

I started to list a bunch of songs, and how they relate to me. I realized there are just too many to list. So many memories, and so many songs to file them by. It's funny how musical notes, or vocals can trigger a momory. Some of those are good memories, and some bad. Makes you wonder, how well we would remember things without our senses.

What I'm trying to say is this. Not only music, or our hearing can trgger a memory, but also touch, and smell.

-Mothballs, Zest soap, and Right Guard all remind me of Boot Camp.

-Tommy Girl, Realities, Exclamation, Bath and Body Works Lotion, and Obsession all remind me of girls/women I have loved.

-Christmas trees remind me of my families Logging jobs.

-A Lawn Mower stored in the garage, still warm from a mowing job, takes me back to my youth.

-The smell of warm concrete when it first gets wet, reminds me of my youth.

-A cloudy, drizzling day here in Florida makes me think of Washington, especially in the colder months.

I can't really think of any 'touches' that bring back old memories. Except maybe an embrace from my parents, or Aunts and Uncles.

What triggers memories for you?

Dead Cat

I wrote in an earlier post that I couldn't bury a dead cat. Here is what happened.

One day while my oldest was out mowing the yard, I went out to check on his progress. I smelled something rotting. You all know the smell I'm writing about. The sickly-sweet smell of rotting flesh. Since I was near the condensing unit of our air conditioner, I figured a small critter crawled in there and either was zapped, or chopped up by the fan. I gave the cut signal to my son, and asked him if he smelled the stinky in the A/C unit. He said it wasn't in there, it was actually the dead cat by the road.

If any of you have ever been to Florida in the summer, you know how hot, and muggy it gets here. Decomposition does not take very long to start after the moment of death. Apparently the night before, or two nights before, a cat was hit by a car near our yard. The cat was either knocked close to our fence, or it dragged itself there before the lights went out.

I followed the smell to the cat, and saw the Tabby stretched out, with flies buzzing about. I walked to the garage, grabbed a shovel, and headed back to the task at hand. I dug a hole within the boundaries of the yard to serve as the Cat's final resting place. What comes next, is what went wrong, terribly wrong.

As I scooped the cat onto the shovel blade the smell went nuclear. I mean it permeated into my pores. Then goo started to leak out of the underside of the cat. Apparently all of this gore was hidden by the ground. Retch, retch, and retch is all I could do. The shovel and cat dropped back to Earth. I had to get as far away from that cat, and it's smell, as I could. I dry-heaved the whole way, with my son following suit.

Remembering something I read about search personnel using Vick's Vaporub to mask the smell of bodies. I went into the house, and found my wife looking at me with a very disapproving look in her eye. Apparently she was watching my burial fiasco from the window. I explained what I was going to do with the Vick's. She said 'I'll do it.' Whereupon she went out side and promptly put the cat into the ground, and covered it up. After the process was over with I made my way outside with a sheepish smile on my face. She looked over at me, called me a Pussy, handed me the shovel, and went back in the house muttering something about how Men were inferior beings.

I believed her...............

Grim

Things at where I work are starting to look pretty grim. I won't go into any real detail, but let's just say that the horizon is looking dark.

Our Union contract is coming to an end, and negotiations are starting to begin. The problem as I see it, is we don't have any leverage. Without the leverage, I'm afraid we will be at the mercy of the Company. The other problem is that if it comes down to a Strike, I'm not really sure how many Union members will stay out. What's worse is that the Company, I'm sure, is well aware of this.

On top of this we are also going through a transition, and actually could be under the banner of a whole new Company around the same time. (Another hit to leverage.)

It gets worse. There is also a posibility of the industry itself taking a hit on our customer's contracts. We may lose several contracts due to budget cuts.

To say that I'm a little worried would be an understatement to say the least. It's not exactly like there is alot of family-wage jobs out there anymore. Maybe it's time to start looking elsewhere, a new line of work. I don't know, I just don't know.

The Real Navy Life

A friend of mine e-mailed this to me several years ago. I get a kick out of it everytime I read it.

Navy Life
The suggestions below are made on behalf of those of us who have family members that think we live a "TOP GUN" existence. You know, those family members that have watched one too many episodes of JAG, and think that Navy life is glamorous. These suggestions are made to permit those people to experience Navy life, right in the comfort of their own homes.

1. Buy a dumpster, paint it gray and live in it for 6 months straight.

2. Run all of the piping and wires inside your house on the outside of the walls.

3. Pump 10 inches of nasty, crappy water into your basement, then pump it out, clean up, and paint the basement "deck gray".

4. Every couple of weeks, dress up in your best clothes and go the scummiest part of town, find the most run down, trashy bar you can, pay $10 per beer until you're hammered, then walk home in the freezing cold.

5. Perform a weekly disassembly and inspection of your lawnmower.

6. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays turn your water temperature up to 200 degrees, then on Tuesday and Thursday turn it down to 10 degrees. On Saturdays, and Sundays declare to your entire family that they used too much water during the week, so all showering is secured.

7. Raise your bed to within 6 inches of the ceiling.

8. Have your next door neighbor come over each day at 5am, and blow a whistle so loud that Helen Keller could hear it and shout "Reveille, Reveille, all hands heave out and trice up".

9. Have your mother-in-law write down everything she's going to do the following day, then have her make you stand in the back yard at 6AM and read it to you.

10. Eat the raunchiest Mexican food you can find for three days straight, then lock the bathroom door for 12 hours, and hang a sign on it that reads "Secured - contact OA DIV at X-3053".

11. Submit a request form to your father-in-law, asking if it's ok for you to leave your house before 3PM.

12. Invite 200 of your not-so-closest friends to come over, then board up all the windows and doors to your house for 6 months. After the 6 months is up, take down the boards, and since you're on duty, wave at your friends and family through the front window of your home...you can't leave until the next day.

13. Shower with above-mentioned friends.

14. Make your family qualify to operate all the appliances in your home(i.e. Dishwasher operator, blender technician,etc)

15. Walk around your car for 4 hours checking the tire pressure every 15 minutes.

16. Sit in your car and let it run for 4 hours before going anywhere. This is to ensure your engine is properly "lit off".

17. Empty all the garbage bins in your house, and sweep your driveway 3 times a day, whether they need it or not.

18. Repaint your entire house once a month.

19. Cook all of your food blindfolded, groping for any spice and seasoning you can get your hands on.

20. Have your neighbor collect all your mail for a month, randomly losing every 5th item.

21. Spend $20,000 on a satellite system for your TV, but only watch CNN and the Weather Channel.

22. Have your 5-year-old cousin give you a haircut with goat shears.

23. Sew back pockets to the front of your pants.

24. Spend 2 weeks in the red-light districts of Europe, and call it "world travel".

25. Attempt to spend 5 years working at McDonalds, and NOT get promoted.

26. Needle gun the aluminum siding on your house after your neighbors have gone to bed.