I dunno. I am able to patiently wait through bullshit better and I tend to get to the point of things instead of beating around the bush. And I guess when everyone at work is doing stupid shit that we really don't need to be doing I'll ask the boss wtf is going on and if we can do something else - a lot of the time they agree and just hadn't thought of something. Just little shit like that I guess. But I also think with the cutting corners deal I have become very lazy. I am very good at getting shit done while using the least amount of energy possible so I can fuck off. If you mean as far as values go I don't think I changed too much? Integrity was always a big thing for me. It isn't for a lot of people that are in. There are a lot of thieves. They say there's only one thief in the army and everyone else is just trying to get their shit back. They probably say that in every branch though. I'm kind of just typing as I think so this probably isn't making sense. I'll have to think about it. I think I've always been a screwup. Not sure if it made me better or worse in that respect.
Originally Posted by Swaying Blue Corn
On Saturday I started drinking beer rather early. I found out that if you roll 5 of a kind at this shitty gas station bar that you win 150 dollars. Jason took me there (he has a drinking problem and knows these things). The girl working there was surprisingly hot and was wearing tights so we decided we needed to pick up Joe so he could take a few shots at rolling the dice. Then we went to two other places that do the same thing. So I had a pretty good buzz going when we got our first case of beer.
We ended up sharing it with some girls Jason knows. But Jason started being a bad drunk and wanted to go back to the house. I ended up cooking a feast to try to keep him focused and somehow, despite Joe punching Jason in the balls, and taking forever to convince the girls to come to the house, we ended up with a 30 pack of Keystone and we decided to booze cruise to Nebraska to see one of our friends play in a band in a dive bar in a small town. I was drunk enough to dance when we got there so you can be sure I was plowed and for some stupid ass reason I took a shot of tequila. I immediately regretted it. I knew I was going to puke if there wasn't some sort of miracle. I began the usual breathing exercises and tried to remain calm. But it wouldn't stay down. I hurried outside and luckily there was nobody out front because the puke started spraying out onto the sidewalk in front of the bar - mostly liquid the first heave. Then I walked in between a couple of SUV's and shit really started spewing out - stuffed mushrooms, half pound burgers, everything was being projectile vomited in several heaves. I felt better soon after. And as I took a couple of breaths and half admired the pile of shit I just puked in between these cars I noticed an old, wrinkled, white haired lady in the driver seat of the SUV to the left of me. She had her seat reclined and she was looking straight forward, trembling, trying not to move like a rabbit that has decided to rely on its camoflage in the hope that you don't notice it instead of running away from you. She was absolutely horrified.
What can you do in that situation? I giggled my ass off all the way into the bar, put in a stick of gum, grabbed a beer, and started dancing.
Last edited by Jack Roller; 08-13-2012 at 07:26 PM.
I was just wondering. Ever since uni I've been rethinking my position on the military. In other countries it seems like a more prestigious/respectable thing. Not to take away anything our guys. I kinda wish service was compulsory for a couple years like it is in other countries, but the way our military is set-up right now I don't think it would work like it does in say SK or Israel. I think I would volunteer if it was only for a couple years, and just pray we don't start shit with Iran or whoever during that time, lol.
Originally Posted by Jack Roller
Sometimes I wished everyone had to go. But then I thought the army would be full of people that just sat around doing nothing, hating life - but then I thought that's what the army is like.
On one hand though, I would take my warmonger friends a lot more seriously if they were in at one point. I had a friend with a "bad back" that played counterstrike nonstop and before the Iraq War we argued constantly. At one point he told me I had a pussy attitude and walked out the door. I told him it was better than actually BEING A PUSSY. I think we only had one guy in congress that had a son in the war (from my state). I could be wrong. Maybe it was just one in the house or senate or whatever but the point is that shit is ridiculous. They're the people that are always wanting people to support our soldiers but they don't do it when it counts - when it comes to equipment, or picking a just cause, or when soldiers become veterans - where the fuck are they then? They're on their "no welfare" kick.
One thing that did change about me I guess is that I get very angry when people talk about war casually around me. That "they signed on the dotted line" bullshit doesn't do it for me. We don't let kids drink until they're 18 but allow them to sign their lives away? It's bullshit. If they at least had a family member in they may give things some thought as to whether or not we have cause to intervene elsewhere. They might actually try to figure out if their is a link between Bin Laden and Saddam rather than just swallow whatever they're fed. They might not say things "60 dead last month? This is nothing compared to other wars." They might. But who fucking knows I guess. I definitely changed the way I feel about it.
A month ago my brother was giving me shit for how I dress and I told him to stop dressing like Action Bronson. He wears those shorts that aren't quite pants and wears them with whatever - long sleeve shirts, shit like that. The big thing though is he's a huge guy with a red beard. And he wears flat brim baseball caps and shades a lot. So I showed him the video for Shiraz and he's annoyed as shit but denying any resemblance.
Now he's back at college. He has this bullshit job where he checks to see if kids on academic probation did their homework. He just posted this to me today.
"So.... Yesterday I was helping freshmen move into the dorms, when I over heard a conversation between two freshmen:
Frosh 1: "Where the hell is the Bookstore"
Frosh 2: "I don't know, lets ask Action Bronson over there"
Motherfuckers..... I was a little pissed so I sent them in the complete opposite direction through heavy construction zones."
I'll let you guess who the asshole in denial is in this picture.
Fucking dead @ "Let's ask Action Bronson over there."
And your brother does look like Action Bronson, lmao.
Last Friday night I went the bars in my college town with my friend Jersey Joe. The night started off pretty uneventful. Joe kept pestering me to drink more. It wasn't that I wasn't drinking, he just didn't like the pace. It seemed like we argued about how many drinks we each had for hours. Then a girl I know came in and said I missed her birthday. She turned 21 a couple of weeks ago so I bought her shots. Then the guy that works at the door had shots with me. Then I had shots with myself.
It's sometime after 1am and the beer has been steady and the Jagermeister has kicked in and I am going in and out. At least my memory of the night is that way.
There was this girl I tried to talk to last fall. We talked for a couple of hours and then she disappeared. Now this girl was in front of me with her purse over her shoulder asking if I wanted to go home with her.
I remember asking her if she was alright to drive. It wasn't as if I would have taken her keys and had us walk if she'd said she was shitfaced. I was just asking. I don't remember what she said.
I also don't remember the ride to her place - I don't remember getting in the car. I also don't remember if we talked, if we went right to the bedroom or not. The first thing I remember after asking if she was ok to drive is fingering her. And I was well into the middle of it because she was saying she was close. So I got on my job and finished her off and she fucking squirted. My first squirter. I wanted to do it again immediately.
I also wanted to fuck. She was a little on the thick side but she had a pretty face and a nice rack. I was completely fucking numb though. I got in but it was useless. I could feel nothing.
The next thing I remember she's telling me to get dressed. We have to leave.
"I can take you to Mark's house."
"Who the fuck is Mark?"
"Your friend that works at the door."
I'd known Mark for almost a decade. Fuck.
I grab my boxers and my pants and decide it's one or the other. I can't do both. So I ride in her truck with my boxers in hand while she explains that her mother is dropping off her daughter in the morning and she doesn't want to have to explain me - a sort of half-assed apology that I don't think many guys really need.
I open the door to Mark's place and as the door shuts behind me I see his roommate has purchased a large black and white pit bull.
Luckily it likes me. I woke up on an air mattress the next morning spooning the dog with my boxers on the floor. I had the taste of vomit in my throat. I really hoped I didn't puke somewhere in this house.
I made sure I had my wallet, phone, and car keys. All there. And somehow I had two twenty dollar bills. It looks like I had practiced some restraint. Then I saw the white piece of paper. At 1:00 am I took one hundred dollars out of an ATM at the bank across the street. The receipt didn't jog my memory. I have no recollection of leaving the bar at that time. But it made sense how much time traveling I had done if I drank sixty dollars with of liquor in less than an hour.
When I saw Mark I was a gentleman and told him I had no idea how I got there. Then that night at the bar he lets me know I kept throwing up at this chick's place so she dropped me off there. One mystery solved. The rest will be cleared up if I can ever get that girl to talk about it. Although I'm not sure I should ask.