Embrace The Suck...

Helping Muslims Get Laid...

2012-01-24T05:16:00.001-06:00

Since oh, about 1991 or somewhere thereabouts.

If there ever were a public service, that's it.

I saw this picture and I couldn't help but want to write a little bit about it. Just because its one of those things that I'm going to guess would royally piss off some pinko, commie, hollywood, msnbc, uneducated (in any real sense), occupy some shit liberal off.

However, there's a lot going on in this picture. Well, truth be told I haven't a fucking clue what's going on other than I'm sure at least one of these guys is working to keep from laughing. What's going on is in the words.

Those words, if nothing else, are beautifully sarcastic. Now anyone who has read my blog for any length of time (up to and including those of you who have only read this post up to...here.) Know that I am sarcastic and if there's one thing I truly appreciate its a well crafted sarcastic comment.

So, we all know that Muslims have a pretty twisted attitude about sex. And coming from an American (easily the most uptight country in the western world as it relates to sex) That's saying something. They have some really weird shit going on over there. Man love Thursdays is something I'll unfortunately never forget. Seeing some 12 year old kid walking around with little designs painted all over his hands, and seeing grown men walking around with their beards dyed red or orange. Yes this sort of shit goes on, and yes its a sign that you're ready to...party per se. Ugh, I threw up in my mouth a little just thinking about it.

Ask any GI about how haji's feel about sex and they'll tell you something along the lines of boys are for pleasure, broads are for breeding. And that dear friends, is all you really need to know to understand that yes these people are not right...at all.

Where does this come from? Who knows, not me that's for sure. But I'd be more than happy to venture a guess. These people live under one of the most oppressive religions the world has ever seen. Sharia law and Koranic teachings are, forgive the term, a motherfucker.

Only way I could describe their rules is this, its really easy to get yourself maimed and/or killed trying to follow Muslim rules. I know for a fact that I committed no less than 7 death by boogie boogie offenses within the past 17 minutes. And for anyone who doesn't understand the boogie boogie reference, just leave it be and suffice it to say boogie boogie will hurt your coochie coochie.

Moving on, this isn't about sex. Just so you know. Its about something else. Its about a sense of humor. And when you look at this culture you realize that you are dealing with a morality system, a religion, an entire culture that is completely and utterly devoid of a sense of humor.

So far as I'm concerned if you can't laugh at or make fun of yourself you're not worth the air and food it takes to keep you alive. But that's still functioning on a micro level. What happens when you don't have a sense of humor on a macro level?

Someone drew a picture of Mohammed with a towel shaped bomb on his noggin. And they all lost their shit and someone went to Holland and offed a Van Gogh. Someone here drew a picture of the crucifiction with human shit. (no, I won't use excrement thank you very much) Nobody killed him.

Some chick gets sick of her husbands shit so she bones the bell boy. And next thing you know she's buried up to her neck getting boulders chucked at her temple. Happens all the time here. Usually she'll end up walking off with half your shit.

Some kid decides he doesn't really want to get sodomized this weekend and next thing you know his old man slits his throat for disobiedience. If we were like this can you imagine how many dead kids would be floating around?

And a new one, some guy marries a 16 year old (He's like 35) and tries to force her into prostitution, she tells him where to stick it, and his family proceeds to torture her by ripping out her hair and fingernails. Here we would've just offered her more money. Jeez that was wrong, but you get the idea.

Ever heard of an "honor killing" you know, when some girl gets raped, these fucks think she has dishonored the family so they off her.

Yeah, I could go on and on. But the fact of the matter is we are dealing with a group of wackos who have completely lost the ability to laugh, at anything. The most miniscule of slights must be avenged.

Now, call it whatever you want. Maybe I'm being simplistic but if you take a step back and look around you will see that for the most part, a whole lot of trouble is being caused by people who take themselves too seriously.

Christian, Muslim, Jewish, fundamentalists. Oh yeah, we all know that they're a pain in the ass.

Politicians. Is there one flipping guy in this field of candidates who can consistently make people laugh? I mean on purpose, we laugh at them mostly because they act like douchebags, not because they said something clever.

Cops? We all know these guys are a pain in the balls. "You were going 3 over the limit sir." Really officer, you can go...

The Occupy and Tea party wackos? These are people who believe that anyone who does not believe as they do is an affront to God and the human race.

Moving right along. So my point being that there is no way around it. Humorless people cause a lot of trouble.

Everyone knows this, everyone knows that humorless people have a lot of pent up anger, frustration and energy. And sooner or later they act out.

Occupiers decide to turn statehouses into flophouses. Cops decide to use pepper spray on kids. Politicians just ram it up our keesters a little bit harder, and the fundos (fundamentalists) they keep waving their religion around like a riot baton...

...and Muslims, well they keep blowing shit up, hijacking planes, oppressing women, living in mud huts, chopping off heads, using acid to suppress education and a myriad of other really despicable things.

Can we change this? Who knows? A lot of these people are so far gone in this department I don't think they could ever be brought back.

All's I can say is, cultivate your sense of humor. Sharpen your sarcastic blades, and turn that sense of humor out. Direct it at others, but mostly direct it at yourself...because I really don't want you to blow yourself up!

So long as you don't blow yourselves up, we'll keep the Muslim dating service open!

Just sayin.

I love you Mom...

and we'll wrap today's rant with another photo that illustrates perfectly, and loudly, exactly what I'm talking about.

Read this, then tell me what you think...

2012-01-23T01:54:00.002-06:00

Click Here to read the article.

Getting Home and Realizing You'll Never Be This Awesome Again...

2012-01-22T23:35:00.001-06:00

Pictures are worth a thousand words right?

Well this one is worth that and its worth the rest of this...

I personally thought that this picture has a lot of bearing on how Vets...er I feel. I suppose that it would be infinitely presumptuous of me to figure that I could speak for them but its a large part of how I feel.

For a year I was a jolly green giant walking the earth with a gun. (cookie to the first person who names that movie.)

For a year (and this has been stated ad nauseum) I was making decisions everyday that determined whether or not someone saw their next sunrise.

For a year, I was entrusted with millions of dollars of government equipment. Not to mention the lives of my team, squad, platoon, and company.

And here's a new one. Something I have been thinking about lately (especially with this god damned election coming up) For a year, I was shielded and allowed to purify myself of the relentless media onslaught that is American TV. I didn't watch any TV.

First let me define what I mean. Because any soldier reading this will call bullshit right away if I say I didn't watch any video entertainment at all. The sheer volume of porn in Afghanistan right now is enough to sink a battle ship, not to mention the avalanche of pirated DVD's and the endless collections of ripped movies in MP4 or WMV format. If you were to prosecute one platoon of GI's overseas for their pirated movie collections I can guarantee that there would be at least 10,000 years of prison time and a fine in excess of 1 billion dollars. And I'd think those were conservative estimates.

When I say TV, I didn't have to watch commercials. All the TV shows we watched were on DVD's or digitized and minus all commercials. They were stories. We watched Sons of Anarchy, Its Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Family Guy and all that shit. But we got to leave the commercials at home. Plus we didn't have to see much in the way of news. I read plenty of it on the internet, so I guess I'm not as pure as I'm pontificating to be.

Regardless, I was able to kind of shake myself loose from all the celebrity worship and athlete worship and all that shit. I came back with an entirely new attitude about the entertainment industry. And it goes like this...

They're show ponies.

Actors: Act in your movie. Be really hot. Have really big boobs. Dance around looking really sexy. Athletes: Throw the ball. Shoot the basket. Score the touchdown.

And then....

Go the fuck away.

Don't speak. No one cares.

Don't give us your opinion. No one cares.

And finally on to the news casters. Dear Lord, someone please shut this monstrosity up. I think that the advent of the 24 hour news cycle has doomed our entire way of life.

There isn't enough real news to fill 24 hours.

There really isn't. I know it for a fact. Ask me how I know. Do it. Ask me.

Well since you asked, its because at least 60% of the time of those 24 hour "news" channels is filled with opinion shows. Glenn Beck telling me why the sky is falling. Chris Matthews telling me why the sky is falling. Bill O'Reilly telling me why the sky is falling. Rachel Maddow telling me why the sky is falling. Sean Hannity telling me why...you getting the jist of what I'm saying yet?

Its not news. Its rehashing the same shit from 2 different angles. And anyone who thinks these schmucks are unbiased really needs to have their head examined and their voting privileges revoked. Actually pay attention for 5 mintues and then tell me if you haven't figured out who they're for.

News is supposed to be just that. News. A collection of who, what, where, when and why that a person could use to make an intelligent decision about some event, or issue that affects them in some way. Or they can take the information and completely disregard it.

Its the lost art of thinking. Taking the information you have at hand, and making the best decision you can with the resources you have, and then taking action.

But the way it is nowadays you have 24 hours a day of these shitbirds telling you what to think about this issue and that issue and what to say about this politician and that politician and telling you what to feel about this war and that war.

Bullshit.

Unfortunately its pretty much unavoidable. I mean I love Judge Napolitano. That guys the shit, plus I want him to come over to my house and let me call him Uncle Vinny and he cooks spaghetti. I know its odd, but it is what it is.

Where was I going with this...oh yeah. I got disconnected from that, for the most part, for a year. And by the time I got back my entire world view was expanded exponentially. I saw things differently, I questioned what I saw, I believed less and less of what I heard. I learned to be suspicious of power. Which is something that we all need to learn and live.

Don't be one of those people who blindly follows this news company or that. I mean, I know people who wait for the endorsements to come out from either the Sun-Times or the Trib (Chicago) and then they vote accordingly. Make up your own mind.

Afghanistan disconnected me from that. And I'm thankful to say that I haven't gone back.

Add all that in together and I am thankful for the time I spent there. I'm thankful for those I spent that time with. And it has forever changed the course of my life.

Unfortunately, I will never be that awesome again...

But I can try.

I love you Mom....

Then I found one other picture that I think should be posted in every Air Force barracks the world over. Plus tattooed onto every fobbits door. Good night, and good luck

Who Is Jonathan Raab?

2012-01-04T02:11:00.001-06:00

Because he wrote this and I think he's pretty much the epitome of awesome.

He's got two articles in the NYT At War blog. Read them.

Pay What You Owe...

2012-01-04T00:59:00.002-06:00

So I was putzing around the house on Christmas Eve and I was listening to the radio. US 99.5 to be exact. Chicago's version of a country station. Now for all you hillbillys and rednecks out there who think that there can't be a "real" country music station in Chicago well...you can kiss my ass. And we'll just leave it at that.

So as I was listening and they were playing your standard fare, "Red Solo Cup, Camoflage by Brad Paisley and what not" they threw a commercial in the middle. A commercial for Make The Connection a website for vets to go and share their experiences with those who do understand. I've spoken before about just what a pain in the ass it can be to hear 'I understand' from anyone other than Vets. Anyways, the commercial has a couple of different guys talking about this, that or the other, but one guy jumped up and kicked me square in the nuts. And like any red blooded American male, I'm not real appreciative of anyone either literally or figuratively kicking me in the nuts. However, if forced to choose I'd much prefer figuratively to literally.

And we're back on topic. So one of these guys was talking about his experience and he got around to saying the words that brought tears to my eyes. Real fucking tears. Out of nowhere. Like a damn little girl who's brother ripped the head off her Barbie doll. And I'm standing there, in the kitchen halfway through making my peanut butter and fried banana sandwich and now I'm crying over the pan. Bananas do not need extra juice!

What did this dude say that turned me in to an emotional wreck?

"You owe it to the guys that didn't come back, you owe it to them to live well."

I haven't always been a big fan of paying what I owe. Just ask anybody who loaned me money between the ages of 16 and 23. Especially, have fun asking those guys who were dumb enough to give me credit cards that exceeded what I made in any 3 month period. I always wondered how an industry could survive when it was willing to give $5,000 worth of open credit to an 20 year old soldier who lives exactly 20 minutes from Mexico. But I guess we've answered that question a few times in the past couple of years.

Now around 23 is when I started to remove my head from my 4th point of contact (aka, my ass!) and low and behold I started paying my bills. Which I've been doing dutifully since. Which has led to a good credit rating, which has led to a recent house purchase, which has led to moving in with the princess, which has gotten me a new dog. So all in all, its a pretty good deal.

I tell you that for no other reason than I know what it feels like to be on both sides of debt, er...all sides of debt. I know what its like to pay what I owe, I know what its like to not pay what I owe and I know what its like to be paid what I'm owed, and I know what its like to not be paid what I'm owed.

Now I don't know about you but its pretty easy for me to pick out which sides of the debt equation I want to be on. I want to be "current" with all my obligations. "Paid in full" would be better, but I don't think that this case has a paid in full.

So now I've been pondering, thinking about, meditating, contemplating, analyzing, and agonizing over that statement. "You owe it to them to live well." Fuck me running. This guy just heaped a giant debt right on my head.

According to an old NYT article (get over it) the average age of combat deaths in Afghanistan is about 25 (Average Age of combat death) then you figure that the life expectancy here in the United States is about 78.1 years. (Source) then you do some quick math. 78.1 minus 25 is 53.1. So that's, on average, 53.1 years stolen from each soldier, sailor, airman, and marine who has died in service to their country. And then you find out how many have died in the War on Terror (Honor the Fallen) shows that 6316 have died in the fight. Then you've got some more math to do. 6316 multiplied by 53.1 years equals 335,379.6 years total. Oh boy, that's a pretty steep bill to pay.

Now maybe I'm being a bit overdramatic with the calculation of the bill, who knows, probably. But it has still been weighing on my shoulders since I heard it.

I owe it to them to live well.

Am I living well?

What the hell is living well?

Two questions that have had me wrapped around the axle for a week. Plus they don't seem to have much in the way of easy resolution. Once, I wish that I could get presented with an easy question. Oh and the above listed questions aren't rhetorical. I want an answer. I'm kind of in the conundrum of not minding so much that I owe, but not quite knowing how to pay the damn thing back.

However, there is a silver lining to my little episode of douchiness. (Crying like a little girl) I'm actually kind of stoked about it because you can't cry unless you have emotions. First and foremost that rules out psychopath, unless of course I can fake emotions even to myself. (I'm not that good an actor) Sociopath is still in the running, but I may have my definitions mixed up here. In any event, the fact that I cried meant that I at the very least have some emotions. So congratulations to me, I might actually be beginning to reconnect with the world. A little sympathy, empathy and good old fashioned concern for my fellow man would be nice once in a while. They warned us when we were coming home about emotional disconnectedness. They of course forgot to tell us exactly how to fix it. I mean, not even a clue. Pricks could've at least pointed us in the right direction.

And finally, I want to say something that's most likely been said before but it bears repeating. Did anyone even notice that the Iraq War is over? Operation Iraqi Freedom has come to a close? Is it just me or was that the least dynamic end of a war ever? You know that the country might have a problem when the end of a motherfucking WAR!!!! doesn't even get anyone's pulse up a little...but I could be wrong. Just seemed to me that around here, nobody noticed. I'm pretty sure that this should've been a big deal.

So I shall bore you no more today.

Answer my questions and we'll see what we can come up with.

Later,

I love you Mom...

1%ers...

2011-12-20T01:31:00.000-06:00

“Everybody wants to support the troops until they have to share in the hardship and sacrifice,” I said. “Then all of a sudden that bumper sticker or that flag pin doesn’t mean anything anymore.” (Quoted from this ARTICLE)

Just got me to thinking. Of course, we all know where that leads. Oh and by the way, I think I am going to take and put to full use this time I have at work on the midnight shift to start writing again. I've got the time so hopefully they've got the money.

There are so many things that, if you were able to see the world through my eyes, would make you want to either puke or laugh. First thing I'm going to talk about is the whole "sharing" thing.

Americans don't do it well. Think about it for a few. When was the last time your neighbor swung by to borrow some sugar? Or when was the last time you drug your snow blower across the street to hit the driveway of the guy that doesn't have one? Or when was the last time you actually did something for charity? I'm not trying to get you riled up or piss you off...well maybe I am but whatever. The fact is that Americans once WERE the most generous people in the world. Now there's a very select few of the population that elect to give of themselves for the greater good.

They're the real 1%ers. Fuck the bikers. Bikers are like hipsters and high schoolers to me. "We want to show how non conformist and special we are by getting together and all doing the same things and wearing the same clothes." Absolute fucking brilliance.

I'm talking about the military and the fact that only about 1% of the population has served in the US military. There's statistics on this somewhere but I'm not about to go and dig them up, this isn't a term paper. So if I'm off by a couple points here or there, I'll betcha I'm pretty damn close. One out of every 100. Line up 100 people aged 18-35 and only one will step forward. Well a few more would step forward but they'd be found wanting for medical or mental health or what have you.

In any case, I think we should go to a Starship Troopers style society. The right to vote and hold public office should be reserved to those of us who served. Everyone else has all their rights, save for those two. In this day and age, with the stupidity/ignorance/lack o' common sense factor rising exponentially, I don't think that this is particularly unreasonable. Obnoxiously, I have created a society that benefits me. But hey, its a start.

So back to the beginning of all of this blather. "Everybody wants to support the troops until they have to share in the hardship and sacrifice." Its the truth. I've bitched about this before but truthfully speaking, what has America and the Americans in it (other than service members and their families) been asked to sacrifice? What hardship have they been asked to endure?

Now I could go on and on but the idea is pretty simple. All the hardship, sacrifice, work, blood, sweat and tears of the past decade have been borne and paid by 1% of the population. Everyone else has spent the past decade either at the mall or in front of their Xbox.

So what do we do about it? I've been asked about the whole compulsory service thing in the past and I'm not a big fan. In my mind it breaks down like this. I don't want to have to deal with soldiers that don't want to be there. It was hard enough dealing with the volunteers. The ones that signed up are a big enough pain in the ass, I can't imagine what the ones who were forced to be there would be like.

That's out.

What could be done to push people to pick up their share of the slack and pull their fair share of the weight?

Take something from them.

And make them earn it back, or live without it.

You want to pick your leaders? Earn it.

You want to be a part of the political process? Earn it.

You want to run for office? Earn it.

You want to have a say? Earn it.

You don't want to be told what to do by those above you? Earn it.

Its a thought.

Later,

I love you Mom...

P.S. (December, 21, 2011): I was thinking about what I had written, actually I was reminded (politely) by my girlfriend, that not everyone can serve in the military. A point I alluded to in the previous post. Some people for whatever reason, be it a medical issue or otherwise just simply cannot serve, and it is through no fault of their own.

Well one thing that a lot of people don't understand is that I don't think these posts through before I write them. That would actually defeat the purpose of writing them for me. I write for therapy and to get shit off my chest. So you'll have to forgive me if my arguments seem knee jerk and poorly thought out...mostly because they are.

Some cannot serve in the military, fine. Everyone can serve the country. There's the US Army, US Marines, US Air Force, and US Navy, US Coast Guard, National Guard and Reserves, which are unavailable to some. So I say there should be an extra one. US National Service Corps. (or something like that) and they should be afforded all the same benefits accorded to the military. GI Bill, and all that good shit. The National Service Corps should be like a community college, they take everyone. Because with a component like that. I would like to see compulsory national service served by all kids in the US.

How about this, every single man and woman in the US (starting immediately) serves 3 years in some component of the National Service, military or otherwise and they are entitled to a 4 year college education courtesy of Ole' Uncle Sam. They'll be fed, housed, and paid (shit) for the duration of their service but when its over they've got a few years of maturity under their belt and they don't have to start their lives with a crushing student loan debt.

Think of the shit we could get done with a veritable army of dumb ass kids.

And rich kids gotta go too!!!

Another Day, another 16 hours...

2011-12-19T01:27:00.002-06:00

That's what I'm right in the middle of doing right now. Working a 16 hour shift. Started at 10pm and it'll be over at 2pm...Good times.

Haven't written in a long time simply because who wants to listen to some disgruntled GI who hates the life he came back to, bitch about how full of rage he is most of the time? I mean really, who the hell would want to do that?

So what have I been doing? Working. I bought a house with my girlfriend and we moved in there. And that's about it. Oh, and I started going back to the shrink again to talk about my "issues" we'll see if he can make any headway. Because I certainly can't. They've got me taking Ambien and Wellbutrin for sleep and mood problems.

Sleep problems = I don't.

Mood problems = I have a piss poor attitude about life and I hate everything, and I'd just really like to pour gasoline over all of it and light it up.

Its been fun observing the assembly line that the VA is. Come in, sign in, wait your turn, tell your problems, sign the paper, pick up your medications.

Pretty simple process really and you're on your way out into the wild blue yonder with a fresh supply of government issued happy pills. I even manage to get pissed off because of the pills. I actually get mad at them because I resent the fact that I need to take them just to get close to being normal. Actually, normal isn't the word. I have to take them just to not be in a constant state of extreme rage. And yeah, I hate the fact that I need them just to do that.

Then there's the Ambien that they give me. Its nice, but not in the dose that they're giving me. They let me take a half a pill a night. Or actually in my case a day, because I work all night, and sometimes all day too. But half a pill won't do it. Now a whole pill, that works just fine. Knocks me out for the duration. I can even sleep through the dreams/nightmares on this shit. However, I am given enough to take a half every night, not a whole. Which means I've kinda got to pick and choose which 15 out of the next 30 nights I want to sleep, until I can get back to the psychiatrist and ask him for more. We'll see if he gives them to me or if he starts to think that I'm turning in to an addict. Which I probably would, if the VA would give me enough to pull that off.

Then there's my wonderful job which doesn't help any of this. I mean, I suppose this would be a bit easier if I had a regular, "normal" job. But I don't. I get locked in a cage for 8 hours per day with a bunch of child molesters, drug dealers, and other assorted animals. I'm pretty far down the seniority list so my days off normally suck. About the best I can usually do is get one day of the weekend off. Perhaps a Friday/Saturday or a Sunday/Monday. But an actual weekend is probably another 6-10 years away. Plus, every 3 months I have to change shifts, and change days off. With the random 16 hour day thrown in for good measure. Plus, I volunteered (big fucking mistake) for an extra duty that I thought at the time would help me get a different job (because when you do this, different and better become synonymous.) I normally end up working one day shift per week. So I get 4 midnight shifts and one, sometimes two day shifts. Oh yeah, this is going to be wonderful for my sleep and my mood. My circadian rhythm or whatever the fuck they call that is going to be shot to shit.

Now I'll bring up the end with the thing that pisses me off the most. The thing that drives me absolutely fucking bonkers. And unfortunately for me and everyone around me its something that I hear over and over from so many different people that it makes me sick. I hear it from my mom, my brother, my aunt, my cousins, some friends (if I have any left), and my girlfriend.

"I understand"

I swear to God they say it just to drive me nuts.

I'll bitch about something, anything. And invariably somewhere in there, they say "I understand"

Fuck you! You don't understand. You can't understand because you weren't there with me. Maybe I am bitching about something that's going on here but do you understand that my head and my heart are in Afghanistan? No, you don't fucking understand that shit because while I was hip deep in Taliban shit and Afghani sand you were bouncing around here doing whatever the fuck. You think that I'm whining about things going on here, when I'm actually whining about the fact that I'm not with my buddies which is where I belong. You think I get this mad over shit that happens here, I'm mad because I know that there's guys over there right now that are hitting an IED. They're getting lit up from the mountaintop. They're dealing with another fucking round of rockets at night. And I'm letting another day slip away when I do nothing of value.

But I'm supposed to be nice and polite about it. They don't mean anything by it. They're just trying to help. So I bottle it up the best I can. Which isn't very well since I spend about 85-90% of my time seething with rage and hate.

So now I'm stuck. I've got my rage on one side and my hate on the other. And the only thing that can yank me out from between them is that stupid fucking pill that I'll take when I get home in the morning...oh wait, I shan't be home till the afternoon.

People have asked me why I stopped writing. I stopped writing because you don't want to hear this shit anymore than I want to write it.

To hell with it, I'll be following it forthwith.

Later,

I love you Mom...

The Cowboy In Me...

2011-11-09T17:53:00.001-06:00

Explanation to follow...

I love you Mom.

How I Feel Every Damned Day...

2011-08-11T01:58:00.001-05:00

Everyone, CALM. THE. FUCK. DOWN. I got this...

2011-08-04T01:39:00.000-05:00

The longer that I'm nuts, the more fun it becomes for me...

I know that's probably not the most healthy attitude in the world to have about my particular set of problems. But I just can't seem to help myself.

I swing back and forth, going from depressed to maniacally happy, to tired, to not being able to sleep for days. To taking a sleeping pill or 7 and sleeping for 14 hours and damn near missing work. I don't drink all that much, not because I'm averse to drinking, its mostly because I don't want to miss a minute of the lunacy!

Try explaining that to people! They'll probably want to have you committed.

Try explaining half of what goes on in my head to anyone and after a few minutes they're going to decide that I'm so far off the deep end that I can't even see the bottom anymore. Which is pretty much fine with me.

Try explaining to people that the reason you hate the everyday mundane details of life is that you spent an entire year where pretty much every thought you had, every step you took, every word you uttered, every breath you drew, every bite you ate, could be your last. And not in the existential, modern day bullshit way that yeah I know everyone could be dead in the next moment but the fact is its not that likely. What I went through it was a distinct possibility and in the lion's share of my time a likely outcome.

Now people look at you cross-eyed when you tell them that you want to ride a bull. And that you want to run with the bulls in Spain. That you've generally got a psychotic need to follow in Ernest Hemingway's footsteps. Now he was a man if there ever was one.

Basically, it breaks down like this. I've spent all my time from the end of "that" until now trying to recapture that feeling. That state of mind. Its a wonderful thing. Every emotion was perfectly felt. The terror was perfect, the happiness was perfect, the calm was perfect, the longing was perfect, the sadness, the insanity, all of it...Perfect.

Slept like the dead.

Ate like a King.

Laughed like I was dying.

Loved like there wasn't another person in the world.

Thought, like a 9mm was about to find out if I could breath through my forehead.

Wrote like the page was my life and the ink was my blood.

And I don't understand why everyone seems to want me to stop trying to get those feelings back. I come back here to this soulless, lifeless, bloodless society and I wonder who's the crazy one?

Everything here is geared to increase comfort. Increase ease. Make your life easier. Compromise. Back down. Don't rock the boat. Don't make things hard. That's the mantra I keep hearing over and over again.

Get over these feelings you're having so you can get back to having a normal life. Hear that one all the fucking time. And I'm sick of it. I don't think that I'm the crazy one. I think you're the crazy one! You're the one who wants me to voluntarily give up my life and become another zombie. Go along to get along you tell me. Well I don't want to.

I want those perfect feelings back. Good or bad I felt those things from the top of my skull to the bottoms of my feet and from the base of my brain to the bottom floor of my soul. I want to run out into the world and find something, anything that will make me feel like that again. I want something, anything that will consume me to the point where I can be 100% in the moment. Something, anything that will remind me that I'm alive and that I may not be for much longer.

They say that I'm nuts because I embrace something as morbid as death. I don't embrace it, just so you know. I welcome it as a natural part of life. Something we're all going to do. Nothing to be afraid of, just the next rung in the ladder. Up or down, I haven't quite figured that part out yet. But I'm working on it. All it is to me is another chance to have those perfect feelings again...don't worry, I'm not going to rush it along.

Well, the prevailing wisdom here is that death is something to be avoided at all costs. With as much medical care as possible and as many pills as we can toss down your throat and on and on. Have you seen a hospice ward in a hospital? I have. Death is sweet mercy to those imprisoned there. I can only pray that when they shake off this mortal coil that they have that one moment of perfect feeling.

Over and over, I'm told that I have to compromise, that I have to moderate my thoughts and my actions to conform to the status quo that's been thrust upon me. I'm told that I can't live a good life thinking the way that I do.

The longer I'm nuts...the more certain I become that its you who is crazy.

So CALM. THE. FUCK. DOWN. I got this.

Later,

I love you Mom...

Atheists sue to block 'WTC cross' from 9/11 memorial - On Deadline - USATODAY.com

2011-07-27T16:15:00.000-05:00

Are these people fucking serious?

Atheists sue to block 'WTC cross' from 9/11 memorial - On Deadline - USATODAY.com

Whatever happens, don’t say Awwww (29 Photos) : theCHIVE

2011-07-26T14:46:00.000-05:00

Whatever happens, don’t say Awwww (29 Photos) : theCHIVE

One of the greatest galleries ever! and not one single shred of porn!!!

Militants hang 8-year-old boy in southern Afghanistan - CNN.com

2011-07-25T12:04:00.000-05:00

Militants hang 8-year-old boy in southern Afghanistan - CNN.com

Anyone still think we're the bad guys?

The Difference Between Men and Women : funny

2011-07-06T18:09:00.000-05:00

This, dear friends, is F-ING priceless!!!

The Difference Between Men and Women : funny

Can't Sleep, Funny story time...

2011-07-05T23:50:00.000-05:00

First off, I don't know what's going on in my bowl o' crazy that is my brain but it bought you a funny story and some societal commentary so here we go...

Societal commentary:

The next douche that gets in front of me in line. Any line. Grocery store, gas station, McDonalds, Lobotomy...it doesn't matter. Who pays for anything that costs less than $5 with a credit/debit card is getting set on fire in a dumpster somewhere!

Get some fucking money! And stop holding up the line. Its kinda like those assholes back in the day who would pay for a candy bar with a check!

Funny story:

Waltzing through the grocery store this afternoon (where do you think I got the commentary from?) And a little boy and his father are walking down the cereal aisle as I peruse the Rice Crispies and Count Chocula and the following exchange took place...

Boy: Daddy, do you have to work tomorrow?
Dad: Yep, its a weekday so I have to work.
Boy: Daddy, do you have to work every week day?
Dad: Pretty much, yeah.
Boy: Why? Mommy doesn't have to work everyday!
Dad: That's why I have to work everyday son.

Its these little occurrences in my day to day life that make it bearable! Gotta love that Dad!

Anyway, later.

I love you Mom...

God Bless Mitt Romney...

2011-07-03T21:01:00.000-05:00

Besides the fact that his name is Mitt. Which is funny enough all by itself and he's a Mormon which just locks and loads all cannons as far as religious jokes are concerned, he said this

“It’s time for us to bring our troops home as soon as we possibly can, consistent with the word that comes to our generals that we can hand the country over to the Taliban military in a way that they’re able to defend themselves. Excuse me, the Afghan military to defend themselves from the Taliban.”

Thank you so much Mitt. I have a feeling that this presidential race is going to be absolutely hilarious.

Funny Story...

2011-06-28T00:00:00.000-05:00

So I was driving to work this morning.

As I pulled out of the driveway of my apartment building, I apparently startled a flock of birds.

At this point the entire flock of birds jumped up and flew right across the hood of my car.

Unfortunately, one of these birds misjudged his altitude.

He flew right in the open window of my car and smashed face first into the closed passenger window.

After the aforementioned avian/automobile collision, the bird laid lifeless on my passenger seat.

To which I exclaimed, "Oh fuck me, I've got a dead bird on my seat!"

At which point the bird started to move. He then jumped up to his little feet and began to look around.

First at me.

Then at the passenger window.

Then at me, then at the window, at me, at the window...you get the idea.

I couldn't help but say to the little bird, "Ya alright?"

If I didn't know better I'd swear that the look he gave me said, "Yeah, I know I lost it there for a minute but I've got it back. Thanks."

Then he proceeded to do the tennis match look around from me to the window for a few more seconds.

Now here, I'm hearing this bird whispering in my head, "Can I get a little help here big guy? How about running that window down so I can get back to doing birdie things and you can get to that life sucking, soul killing job of yours!"

"Whoops, sorry bud. Here ya go. Let me get that for ya!"

I moved my finger from the wheel to the button for the passenger window and gave it a push. (Thank goodness for toll windows.)

A few more looks back and forth and the little birdie flew right out my passenger window.

And does it make me completely nuts that on the last look I swear I heard the little bird say, "Thanks pal, you be good now."?????

Later,

I love you Mom...

And with this, our descent into insanity is complete...

2011-06-26T23:05:00.000-05:00

Overhead Bin - TSA asks 95-year-old woman to remove diaper for pat-down

Jeff Danziger Editorial Cartoon, June 26, 2011 on GoComics.com

2011-06-26T22:46:00.000-05:00

Yep, its kind of like that...

Jeff Danziger Editorial Cartoon, June 26, 2011 on GoComics.com

Mark Cuban Files The Ultimate "Fuck You" Legal Brief

2011-06-22T12:42:00.000-05:00

Now here's a guy that knows how to run a team, and knows how to respond to a lawsuit!

Mark Cuban Files The Ultimate "Fuck You" Legal Brief

Matt Santoro's 20 More Ways To Lose Your Man Card...

2011-06-22T01:59:00.000-05:00

YouTube - 20 MORE Ways To Lose Your Man Card: ""

Dad Quits Job to Watch Son Pitch for South Carolina in the College World… - BroBible.com

2011-06-21T23:33:00.000-05:00

Everyone should have a dad like this!

Dad Quits Job to Watch Son Pitch for South Carolina in the College World… - BroBible.com

Nothing Gets Done Until Someone Starts Moving...

2011-06-21T15:45:00.000-05:00

Its a simple truth. Motion is life. In life, when something stops moving its dead.

Think about it. When you're sleeping, your blood is flowing, your heart is pumping, your brain is firing, your lungs are breathing. And that's about as close to immobile as people get prior to taking their dirt nap.

Now we can debate the philosophical idea of movement equals life till we're blue in the face but that's not what I'm writing this for.

I'm writing this for myself and for all my fellow brother and sister veterans who have and are dealing with the same shit that I'm dealing with.

PTSD in my case has led to a few things that are a royal pain in the ass. Listlessness, idleness, a general fear of running into any triggers which leads me to hide out in my apartment. PTSD is the catalyst for depression, and depression leads to sleeping alot, or in my case not sleeping much. But it would seem that if you didn't sleep much you would have a lot of time to get things done. Given that you've got 8 extra hours a day! But that's not the case, what happens is you spend all your time sitting on the couch watching TV and eating chips and shit. Or maybe you play video games...however in my case the video games start to wear on you because most of them are combat games. Which I don't have much interest in. For obvious reasons.

Thin and thick of it is this, and I imagine that a lot of my fellow soldiers felt this way upon returning home, after the honeymoon wears off you run into a general malaise that if left alone can come to dominate your life.

In my case it did.

Which sucks!

Now it came to dominate not only my mind, but my job, my social life, my family life, my education, my everything.

Well that's just not going to fly.

But something as simple as can be can change your outlook on things.

Nothing will get better until you start moving. Moving against this thing that is destroying you from the inside out. Moving against everything trying to hold you back. Moving against everyone who hasn't helped, or can't help. Moving. Period.

Get up, get out, do something, do anything. Stop voluntarily wasting your life. Take up the guitar, start writing, don't worry if anyone reads it, just write it. Clean your apartment, stay off the fucking internet, confine Facebook and all that shit to an hour or two a day. Which is probably too much. Buy a bike, motorcycle or pedals, join a club, join a league, get off your fucking ass and do something.

You'd be amazed at just how much better one can feel when they've spent the day moving as opposed to hiding from the world and staring at the walls.

Regardless of the problem, PTSD, TBI, crabs, unemployment, AIDS, cancer, homelessness, debt, war, or anything...Nothing gets done until someone starts moving!

Later,

I love you Mom...

NFL lockout: why I'm rooting for no pro football this year - chicagotribune.com

2011-06-21T10:59:00.000-05:00

An interesting counterpoint to Christian's take on the NFL Lockout.

NFL lockout: why I'm rooting for no pro football this year - chicagotribune.com

2nd Annual "Support Our Veterans" Pub Crawl

2011-06-21T00:45:00.000-05:00

Something that if you're in the Chicagoland area you should definitely try out!

2nd Annual "Support Our Veterans" Pub Crawl