Archive for September, 2011

Beer, and Tattoos.

Posted in Comedy, Humor, Life, Writing with tags , , , on September 28, 2011 by deviant11b

So I guess I haven’t written anything in a while. I suppose I could say its because Ive been doing other things but that would be a lie. I certainly have more than enough time to sit down and crank out a thousand words. I guess I could say that since I’m back in the states I just don’t have anything to bitch about any more, but any one that knows me would be able to see right through that one. The reason, I suppose, that I don’t write much now that I’m back is I’m just out of ideas. The first month I had this blog I was writing as often as I could because I couldn’t stop thinking of things to write about. However, now it seems that I couldn’t come up with ideas if my life depended on it. So Ive waited, for weeks. Waiting for an idea to strike me like a blow from Ike Turner. Well today was the day I woke up with a metaphorical black eye… Beer.

If youre reading this than Im sure youve had at least one beer, and Id be willing to bet more than one of you has drank more than enough beer at once to get fairly intoxicated. Thus, Im sure I dont have to tell you each time you get drunk, you behave differently. Not just differently from your sober self, but your saturday night drunken self may act different than your friday night drunken self. In one four day weekend I experienced the full range of emotions when it comes to drinking.

Thurday night-About 11 of us went out to a bar together and took up position in the middle of the floor. This was a good night, and a good place. The music was outstanding and the drinks were cheap. That night it seemed like I was in a sports movie montage, nothing could go wrong, and nothing did. We party rocked because it was indeed in the house that night. Everybody just had a good time.

Friday night- 180 degree turn around. I might never have felt so low in the last 7 months. I was at the stage of inebriation where I decided everyone in the bar wanted to hear about the woes of my life. I basically had a sign on my chest that said if your a female looking for a good time STAY AWAY. This is the drunk I hate the most becuase its just not fun for anybody, and without a doubt you always make your self sound like a jack ass to somebody.

Saturday night-Sober, received a thank you note from my liver.

The other thing Ive been thinking about is what kind of tattoo I’m going to get next. Ive decided its not a matter or if, but rather an issue of when and of what. I don’t know what it is, but I love tattoos, most of them I see are pretty cool, and even the ones I don’t like mean something to the people that mean them. Its gone from belonging solely to war vets, and biker gangs to something that is acceptable across the board. Of course there are groups that get more tattoos than others. Soldiers will always get more tattoos than Sunday School teachers, and the lower backs of 18 year old women asserting their sexual independence will always have more ink than the Sunday edition of the NY Times. The point remains though that more and more people are getting tattoos than ever before. As it becomes  less and less taboo to open up emotionally it also becomes less taboo to wear your feelings on your sleeve… literally. As of right now I have two tattoos one on my left arm, and one of my right. I’m planning on getting a tree on my right arm to go along with the snake holding an apple in his mouth. The piece started with a simple cross, then turned into a cross with a shield, I added the snake about a year and a half ago. It just kind of turned into a garden of Eden thing. Some people ask why I got it, and some of the people I explain it to still don’t get it, but I got it because I wanted it and it has meaning to me. That’s what  love about tattoos the most, people don’t have to understand what it means as long as it means something to the person that had it done.

Advertisements

Hug Lady, Accidents, And My Return To Blogging.

Posted in Comedy, Humor, Life, Military, Writing with tags , , , , , on September 5, 2011 by deviant11b

           If your one of my five die-hard, hard-core subscribers, who wait in line until midnight until the release of my newest rantings, than you may have noticed that I havent written anything in a while. I promise there is a perfectly good excuse, I’ve been enjoying my time back from Iraq. I’ve been back for a little over a week, and so far I’ve been enjoying my time back. So far my time back has been defined by a few things; the hug lady, my first car accident, and my return to writing. I will explain all in due time.

          The first thing I will have to explain to all but a handful of people is the hug lady. I don’t know her name, and I doubt many soldiers in Fort Hood do, but any one who has deployed know her. I’ve hugged her a total of four times, but some people havent been lucky enough to hug her an even number of times(that’s a one way trip to a war zone if you’re wondering). The hug lady is about 80-90 years old, and ever since the beginning of the two wars she has been there to hug every soldier to deploy out of Fort Hood before they get on the plane. Keep in mind almost every plane leaves past midnight and arrives at the same time. For a woman that old, that is a hell of a commitment. I suppose I need to supply some background information on her though. Her son was in the Army during Vietnam, he wasnt stationed in Fort Hood though, so when he deployed she wasnt there to hug and kiss him good-bye like most of the younger soldiers families. Her son died in Vietnam and she was never able to hug him again. So now she stands there at one in the morning hugging a thousand soldiers as they get on the plane to go to war. When they return, she is there again at one in the morning waiting to give them a welcome home hug. Usually there are fewer soldiers to hug, but that’s why she does it. She does it for the guys that wont ever get to hug their own mother again, and she does it for the guys who might need a hug after a year away from home. The thing that stuck to me the most though is when I stooped down to hug her, I moved my weapon away from my chest. She thanked me for that. Maybe she just doesn’t like the cold steel of a weapon pushing up against her, or maybe not wanting to feel the tool of war against her is just a motherly thing. Shortly after I hugged her I was standing behind a bus with 800 other guys, waiting on a bus to move so we could walk across a field to meet our families. I gave my dad a hug that night, and the next time I hug my mom I’ll be back for good, and she’ll never have to worry about sending me off to a piece of shit country again. Now this was probably the sappiest paragraph I have ever written, and will ever write, but oh well. If you don’t like it, fuck you.

             Two days after hugging the hug lady I was standing on the side of the highway smoking a cigarette surveying the damage of a small fender bender caused by me not seeing an SUV as I was pulling out of a parking lot. This was my first accident, and I thought I handled it rather well. The lady I hit did not handle it so well. Not 15 seconds after hitting me at 15 miles an hour(rear collision not head on) she was calling 911. The ambulance came, and she climbed in the back only to be pushed out after they realized that even a premature baby would have survived the bump. Four days after that she was calling my unit telling them that I had no insurance. For those of you not in the military, this can really fuck you. Fortunatley I had insurance, and my unit knew this. They called her and rather sarcastically told her that I did indeed have insurance, and to talk to her company to figure out what was up.

            I suppose I should touch on my return to writing. I would have written early, but I just couldn’t figure out what to write about. When I was deployed I was constantly pissed off. Now that I’m back, I couldn’t be happier. I don’t know the exact quote but there is something that says that the only time anyone ever has an opinion is when everything is going wrong.  That’s pretty much how it was for me. When everything was going horribly I had no problem figuring out what to write about. So far the only thing going on back here that I have to bitch about is that they drilled out a filling of mine just to figure out it was fine, then put the filling back in…only in the Army. Now if you think my blogs will become more docile and PC than you are wrong. You can still expect the same style from me in the future, just about other things.

            I guess what I really need to say here is that I’m happy to be back, and even happier to be out in less than two months. Also now that I have access to beer again, expect an even more tumultuous blog.