2.25.2007

RE: Roommates

Somebody wanted to know about the guys I serve with. So here's where I lob a hung over impromptu heap of incoherent babble.

Ok, so no names or anything, I'm trying to stay anonymous, even though it would probably be pretty easy for someone to piece it all together. And I also don't want to bash on anyone, which would be easy. There's always a lot of shit-talking around here. Instead, I'll just throw out random little morsels of awesome.

After we had been here for a month of two, me and a friend got drunk (most of these stories will start this way). I'm walking down the hall and as I pass the laundry room, I see this dude standing there with the lid to the washing machine open, a stream of piss arccing into it. Luckily it was empty.

Two of my friends were neck deep in a prank war with each other. It resulted in a pair of boots being glued to the floor.

My brain just froze completely. I'll have to touch on this again later.

3 Comments:

  1. Anonymous said...
    Recounting practical jokes in the military is really funny. There are some classic ones on youtube if you have the time.
    membrain said...
    In your last post you mentioned you went back and read what you wrote in 2005 and asked for suggestions on how to get your mojo back. I went back and read what you wrote in 2005:

    "The STD class.

    Sure, we've all learned all kinds of crap about STDs and how they are totally terrifying, and definitely not cool, in any size, shape, or form. So you'd think it would be old news. Think again, cowboy. They had pictures. Projected on the huge screen behind the podium were horrors that no human being should ever have to see, ever. This is the only notes I took.

    "My libido has been slaughtered in a manner very similar to the way Russell Crowe eviscerated his enemies in the film 'Gladiator'."

    It was disturbing. I suppose the class had its desired effect. Once again, the army has excelled at creating an intense phobia of women for me. I'll probably be ok though, I'll just sign myself up for therapy or something. I don't think this is enough to constitute as PTSD though, which is a good sign. To borrow from James Bond, I'm "Shaken, not stirred."

    Now that is very, very funny. I think you just need to realax and go with that stream of conciousness thing that is natural to you. Don't try too hard. Just be yourself.
    TheUsualSuspect said...
    Ha, yeah that was a pretty interesting day. So was the day that I had to explain to a medic that my track marks and scar tissue in my veins was from taking CLS so many times. Wonder if they'd believe that in the civilian world.

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