I didn’t post anything last night cause well unlike cool hand like my hand full of nothing wasn’t “a real cool hand” it was just a hand full of nothing. As a writer I had serious block, the “lady” I was all excited about friday was totally off work and it was just a blah day, but no fear I gots all fired up and filled with panther piss and ready to go again. Yay! The picture, just so everyone knows was my old home, the USS Nassau. She was based out of Norfolk VA. Bad ass bitch! Along with me and 3500 of my best friends we were quite the crue…kinda Motley one could say. (hope you picked up on the Motley Crue reference there) She had (decommissioned now 😦 ) 2 five inch guns at the front 3 sea wizz cannons and a ram launcher. Quite the force to be reckoned with. Ya know the seen in “Saving private Ryan” when they are all getting (trying) to get onto Omaha beach and they are getting mowed down by the Germans off the little boats. well we had four of them little boats and they were wicked fun to ride by the way (well with out the bullets being wildly sprayed at you, that part sorta sucks, but they improved the steel to be more bullet proof)blah blah. Improvements folks, mistakes were made..enough on that. Those guys that run those are called “Beach Masters” and they are all wicked cool dudes, except when they get permission to go out in the middle of the ocean to “practice maneuvers” and they float away and you can totally smell them having a BBQ out there about a half mile from the ship and they get to play with M60’s and 50 cal’s and you’re totally not invited. You can here the freaking party!! I’m like “hey dick I see the tracers from the machine gun fire you jerks….I just gave you the ammo like and hour ago, can a guy get a cheese burger at least!!! maybe a freaking invite” Its like seeing live feed of the girl you wanted to go to the prom with and seeing the football team tag teaming her in the limo you paid for. That’s my ammo bitches! Well I’m still sore about that but those guys are still kick ass. They probably were all jealous when I was up on the flight deck lifting a 1000# pound bomb on a fighter jet, or like when we had to do the suck ass chemical attack drills and we did flight opps with the chem suits on. Yeah I bet they totally wanted a piece of that heaven….”dude look they get to be in those suits on a 150 degree flight deck with there suit temps getting to like a 170 inside, and the still get to choke on jet fuel fumes,,,,,,God they are lucky, we only get to play with guns and BBQ, they are so lucky, they are gonna have great beach bods when we get to shore” Holy crap I went Waaaaaaay long with that i really didn’t mean that but if you have never been in the military it may be kinda funny…don’t know, is funny to me now though, son of a bitch those suits were hot! paragraph change now cause I’m not sure how to recover this rambling.
That saying “You go to war with the army you got” stuck with me like stink on shit. Really it can be applied to all kinds of aspect of life. It came from Donald Rumsfeld in the very very early days of 911. I promised this would never get political and it won’t, those were the days our people were still smoking under the rubble and those sons of a bitches in our government meant business. If you have read the entirety of my blog I do sorta have this rad ass thing of being like the “The House of Pain” song, jump around jump up and get down. It could be a “style” but really it more of how a person with an undiagnosed case of ADD and get a web sight writes. No worries though people don’t follow me too much when I talk either. It’s just a G d party of confusion, however I’m becoming a better speller due to the fact I don’t know how spell check works while I’m writing so I have to talk into my phone to get the words right so I’m totally remembering more,………….. so I got that going for me which is nice!!!!
The story of “Bud the Dog”. Bud was a little bitty doggie, he was a farm dog that thought he was a timber wolf. He was the size of a chihuahua except smoshed and all fuzzy. Prequel…… at about the age of 11 my grandparents bought the farm (no the didn’t die, they bought a farm) it was a tobacco farm, which totally pretty much made me a tobacco farmer (child labor laws people this ain’t China) and my cousins and I were there all the f’ing time. We had constructed many “forts” as young boys will do when you just turn them loose in the woods. Sorta like “The Lord of the Flies” but no one got killed….EXCEPT ME M FER! Well almost. We had constructed a shack which was pretty nice for 14 year olds’ that needed a place to smoke Winston cigarettes. It had a fire place and a rocking chair, a bench, out door shower (we would use creek water and heat it in a five gallon metal bucket by an out door fire, pretty slick for kids….really) and no matter what hellish storms would pummel the mid west it stood strong. The corners were sawn telephone pools and the rest was built with dunage out of the ditch along with hammer straightened nails. My grandfather had a big pan of nail and they were the only ones we could use, god forbid we get new shit, and along with that we only got the tools that gave splinters. I guess they thought that made us tougher..what evees. Bud and I were over there by ourselves one late October, it was an early freeze that year. I had been over there doing work cause our shanty always needed something to keep it standing, more tar paper or another piece of wood dug out of the ditch, who knows really. Okay here is the non writer part of me going but I must interject a prequel. Ever since I can remember have always LOVED explosives, who knows where it came from. My grandfather was a combat engineer during WW2 (which means he blew shit the F up) it may be genetic who knows. At the age of 10 I made napalm from my little kid chemistry set along with some other stuff because of the encyclopedia. I totally figure out the elements from just the freaking strechy thingies all saying like oxygen, hydrogen, i dont know what its called it was just shit like that (there it is again). Not to give out a secret but it self ignited once exposed to oxygen which left me to have to explain to my parents why the ceiling in the basement was covered in black and the fire extinguisher was empty cause I totally almost burned down the whole house. It’s really more their fault really. Well needless to say I was always trying to come up with something. The day me and Bud had gone over to the shack to do what evees I had been testing an “idea” I had which consisted of fuses in a shot gun shell. I had 2 duds in my pocket but I wasn’t gonna waste good gun powder and primers…I’m not a monster people! Jezz. As I was finishing up my last Winston for the night I see Bud go to the corner of the shack, now this dog isn’t afraid of any dam thing, the poor little guy is whimpering and shaking in the corner. I quiet my thoughts for a moment then from total silence I hear a “crunch” in the leaves about 100 meters out….. now wait a minute, it’s late and there are no stray cow or bull reports (another story, it’s good too) who the hell is over here. I hear a few more crunches and I say “who’s there”. There is no reply. Then the crunchs in the leaves get faster and sound closing. Bud (which never does this) jumps on my lap and is tucking his head and whinning and shaking. I say “what’s wrong Bud” he don’t answer cause dogs can’t talk, I yell “who in the fuck is out there”. The crunching gets faster, now i got adrenaline pumping. I scream “I GOT A FUCKING SHOT GUN IN HERE I”LL BLOW YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF’ I’ll be dipped in gofer shit but he sound speeds up even faster towards me. Then…oh thank god for my brain I totally remember I had in my M80 jacket (Rambo jacket…I ain’t just fucking around here folks I’m sorta a big deal) that I had my unexploded ordnance in my pocket. I take on out and toss it in the fire, put the screen on in a hurry and cover Buds ears…………….BOOOOOOOOOOOM MOTHER FUCKER. See the chimney pipe was way bigger than the outlet of the fire place. The outlet pipe was like a foot in diameter and the outlet was like six inches, have you ever lit a fire cracker in a tunnel…..yeah it has the same effect but this was more wrath of God sorta boom. The person coming, or what ever. HALLS ASS the different way off to the distance. Just for good measures I toss another one in the fire and scream ( I GOT PLENTY MORE MOTHER FUCKER!), which I didn’t but they didn’t know that. This cat (dude) is long gone and Bud and I wait a little bit to make sure the coast is clear. Once I’m pretty sure its ok to leave we are heals to assholes running back to the farm house. We get there and of course I ask if anyone was over there, and yup of course no one was. It was just the dog and I. The person that was gonna get Bud and I in a freaking doggie human stew or make some crazy ass buffalo bill jerk off suit took off due to the fact I scared him/it off If it wasn’t for my instinct and probably more of Bud’s prequel to our impending doom and giving me a bit of warning we could have been toast. In reality it was probably more of a kid touching thing thing and some sick bastard, I was probably gonna get raped. More of a “deliverance” sorta thing was probably brewing but that night Bud and I fought off evil. I went to war with the Army I had!
I totally did that shit again with title going to the end! M F”er I’m sorta ok at this writer stuff…that totally wasn’t planned. I will conclude with, I WILL do gun and run tomorrow I promise (oh snap I’m building it up too much…Bud story is better…and dam I need smaller smiliey thingies cause in the book I wrote totally glorifies that whole thing…..it’s bitch’en in the book….totally make believe though!) Sorry There may have been some good readers till my end although I do a a postquil (making up words again, it’s sorta 2PACS fault though cause he is in my head phones right now)
Remember the world is filled with threats and the world is clocked in camouflage, you never know where a threat could be coming from! Que la buena fortuna siempre este contigo. And again if you suffered through another one of these God love you and I (I’d say love but really I don’t even really know you….jezz don’t be pushy) but really….. thank you so much.
PS……..Sad end to Bud btw….when I was off in the military I called my grandmother and asked about my little buddy while I was in Italy. She told me Bud’s body was found, he was killed by coyotes……..Dios esta con mi perro!
PSS……. If you wonder why I always finish with spanish, For one I have sooo much respect of the Mexican people, they are my brothers. although it was hilarious the way the Spanish people acted when you spoke in Spain…sorry funny is funny. Truth be known it took more time trying to edit what I wrote than to write it.. I guess that called manic cycling..I’ll make it better late I promise, it was an off nite….later