Saturday, December 31, 2011

Sunday, December 25, 2011


The Navy just may have to go back to these if the value of the dollar keeps slipping… hell we keep print’n more money anyway!!!

Friday, December 23, 2011

Again With Ensigns

A young ensign had nearly completed his first overseas tour of sea duty when he was given an opportunity to display his ability at getting the ship under way. With a stream of crisp commands, he had the decks buzzing with men and soon, the ship had left port and was streaming out of the channel.
The ensign's efficiency has been remarkable. In fact, the deck was abuzz with talk that he had set a new record for getting a destroyer under way. The ensign glowed at his accomplishment and was not all surprised when another seaman approached him with a message from the captain.
He was, however, a bit surprised to find that it was a radio message, and he was even more surprised when he read, "My personal congratulations upon completing your underway preparation exercise according to the book and with amazing speed. In your haste, however, you have overlooked one of the unwritten rules -- make sure the captain is aboard before getting under way."

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

‘Christmas As I remember It’

So any of you ol’ shipmates remember feeling really homesick and blue as Christmas was upon us? Were you busy at sea being volunteered to pull some dastardly Christmas Eve mission?? Were you sent out to fetch  a bucket-o-steam or some relative bearing grease???
I kind’a sat back wandering through my ol’ fish’n tales of Sea Stories remembering what it was like about this time of year… especially after too many hours of ‘Holiday Standdown’ … ‘Don’t Drink and Drive… Be safe hang’n those Christmas lights... Don’t light the tree on Fire… remember the number to the suicide hotline… and oh’ yeah, for you younger crackerjacks, “If it smells like a fish then it’s a dish… but if it smells like cologne  then leave it alone!”… wrap that rascal cause we’ve got free ‘Goodyear’ treaded condoms on the Quarterdeck and besides... VD is for the enemy!!!
I was lucky enough to be home for my first Christmas in 1987. “ Could someone pass the fuck’n Gravy… Please?”  As mouths dropped open with eyes popp’n out all over the table!!! No thanks to that fine Navy training at Boot Camp in Great Lakes!!!  I think my Dad called my Chief back on base and got nothing but uncontrolled laughter as the Chief could give a shit less…  “Just feel lucky that he gets to be home this year!”  That was pretty much the sentiment back in those days!!!
My first Merry Christmas away from homeport was at the Singapore Naval Base Sembawang Seaman Center… 1989. After several months of bouncing around in the middle of God's great ocean we found ourselves celebrating in a humid 100 degrees poolside at one of her Majesty’s finest establishments in the southern most point of Asia!!! Full of Anchor Beer and various other sorts of booze we made parody of every gaudamned traditional Christmas Caroll in the book of  peace and goodwill to the tune that would make a hooker blush… we did a bit of that as well at a local brothel a few blocks from the Seaman Center… as I recall one of our helo pilots had a bit of upstairs entertainment with the eighty year old mama’san… never saw that one coming!!!
Then came the Christmas of 91’ on the Chucky ‘V’!!! After spending the night with a couple of Indian Princess’ off the outskirts of Kingston, Washington my compadre Tracy and I came back missing morning Quarters about three hours too late!!! For this well spent sexual tryst we incurred a week of daily stripping and waxing the Electronic Maintenance Office floors from 0800-1200 during holiday stand down… rather it needed it or not.  And the evening of Christmas Eve we were treated to a Juice Newton Christmas Bash at the local Kitsap Pavilion in Bremerton… Gay Sara Sara… What ever will be will be…
Then we jump to five years later and we see three men on camels in a row boat somewhere in the Persian Gulf…

It was Christmas, 1996 on the USS Rainier in the local Seaman Center of Fujairah UAE of the Middle East. The place was dark and dingy with velvet booths, outdated Slot Machines and Asian Karaoke with pictures of Bedouin Oasis all over the walls. Shipmates gett’n drunk on Russian Vodka and smok’n Cuban Cigars… Cigars were a most important commodity beings you can’t get those in the States!!! Hell, the air in the gaudamned place was 80% unadulterated stale cigar smoke and merchant seamen body odor!! The bar keep did what he could to keep the cockroaches under control, but some were bigger than the midget waiter… and beware of any American brand named beer... 110% formaldehyde!!! One thing was surely a’ miss… there were no big-bosomed barmaids to slap on the ass and bring you bubbled over suds to blow the excess foam off… that you don’t get in Fujairah… or anywhere else in the Middle East!!!  


Then in 98’ there was Christmas off the coast of Bahrain. The night was clear and warm… the moon was bright… and we could see the lights from the waterfront about a thousand yards out the distance as the Captain felt uncomfortable about giving liberty in such terroristic times... We sat anchored out as we watched the liberty boats go in and out from other ships in our Battle Group… The only thing we had to look forward too on this Christmas Holiday was the Christmas Dinner!!!  Regardless of how good or bad the food was, we ate and bitched about it no matter the effort. The night before Christmas the cooks laid in the essential goodies… processed yams… preserved cranberry sauce…  stale nuts dated ‘1965’… cornbread…  stove top stuffing… powdered potatoes… bug juice... and KFC style mutated  turkey and roast beast!!  The only way to tell the two meats apart was the rubber texture of the turkey and the roasted beast had rainbow sheen... like an oil slick… kind’a funny considering we were on a gaudamned oiler in the first place!!! But I gotta admit those cooks did a pretty good job with what they had to work with. Thirty minutes prior to the bells and whistles for “Dinner, knock off ship’s work” the messdecks opened and the hungry grabassing animals began forming a line that stretched the entire passageway to the cargo bay!!! 
Then finally in 99’, after many years of sea duty, I had my Christmas in Tulsa! It was my first stent on Shore Duty… Sell’n the Navy like a cheap whore on Broadway!! Now I lived and worked in the busiest gaudamned traffic area in the State of Oklahoma... you see 51st & Memorial and 71st & Memorial are annually considered in the top ten of worst intersections of the whole United States… how the hell did I manage that???  Traffic gets so damned congested in that two mile stretch on an ordinary day… but it’s X10 the bottleneck during the Holidays!  Recruiting outside the city limits was a blessing during the Christmas Season!!! I remember spending an afternoon at a down home diner in Okmulgee, Oklahoma one afternoon when some sweet heart of a waitress brings me my check at the end of my meal and tells me not to worry… “That old coot smiling at us from across the way put your meal on his tab”… ‘because it’s Christmas and he knows the crazy shit you do for a living!!!  
But as a Chief I got to spend Christmas import on duty with the ship. It was the winter of 05’ and it was already a real downer all through the decks!! We had NCIS crawling the wood work on a witch hunt look’n to bust up the Chief’s Mess and everyone was on edge!!! People were falling like flies all around me and I didn’t know what to think… was I next on the list??? Who’s going down for what??? Then just before the Holiday Standown we went to Victoria B.C. and all sorts of non-regulation nonsense broke out… a bunch a high octane fuel to throw on the fire as they say!!! It left a sick feeling in your gut… gotta tell you that was probably one of the more miserable Holiday Seasons I ever had!!! The ol’ man gett’n on the 1MC and blast’n our business to the whole gaudamned water front… when it was all said and done the Skipper abruptly retired… we lost our Master Chief and five other fellas for disorderly conduct, fraternization, alcohol abuse and probably another dozen charges I don’t even know how to consider!!!  But we moaned and we groaned… sucked it up and made the best of a really bad situation! I’m just glad I made it out alive from that floating curse of a ship!!! Damned near made me miserable to be alive… Hell it made recruiting duty seem like a walk in the park!!!


Then… just before retiring I did my last stent of shore duty  at the Brig in Bangor Washington. Working in the Brig can be pretty depressing in itself at times with all the negativity… but to watch those sorry son’s-a-bitches on the Holiday, half of them with no visitors… with noth’n to do but stand around and scratch their butts… It’s hard not to feel a bit sorry for the lads… but they got themselves there somehow! With that said, Christmas meals were actually pretty darned good… as the Brig Duty Officer I was required to eat the same meal as the prisoners!! But we didn’t cook our own food… one of our own had to drive to the galley and pick up the food for the prisoners. Now, it’s no secret the submarine base has got the best cooks. They had more Galley award memorabilia on the gaudamned wall than my ol’ High School’s Trophy case…  and I gotta say, even though I had to spend my Christmas day with the Prisoners, I could still appreciate a good meal to say the least!!! If it’s worth anything… you always get three squares, a hot shower, and a cot to sleep in!!!
But on this particular Holiday as I’m retired from Twenty-Three years of duty and no longer wear’n the ol’ uniform… I’d like to give a shout out to my shipmates, our fellow soldiers and marines and others who serve a cause overseas away from their families this Holiday Season… As they say… War is hell…   May you have a peaceful and joyous Christmas & New Year...  and Thank You for everything you do and I hope you get to come back and enjoy your families soon.

Saturday, December 17, 2011

‘Sailors & Marines’

A Sailor was having a drink at the bar. A Marine walks in and orders a shot of whiskey, drinks it down, grabs the sailor and whips him all over the bar. He then drags the sailor up to the bar, and tells the barkeep,When he comes to tell him,That was Karate from Korea.

The sailor comes to, climbs back up on the bar stool. The barkeep tells him what the Marine said. After several minutes the Marine comes back in, orders a shot, drinks it, and whips the sailor again. This time the Marine tells the barkeep, When he comes to tell him that was Jujitsu from Japan.

The sailor comes to, gets back on the stool and the barkeep tells him what the Marine said. The sailor starts another drink when the marine comes back in and orders another shot. Before the marine drinks it, the sailor says, Wait just a minute, come outside with me.

A few minutes later the sailor comes back in the bar dragging the bloody marine, and throws him up against the bar, he then lays a crowbar on the bar and tells the barkeep, If he comes to tell him thats a crowbar from Sears!!!



Wednesday, December 14, 2011

'Hello Sailor'

According to Wikipedia, the generally acceptable online Encyclopedia, "Hello, sailor" is a sexual proposition made to a sailor, presumably by a prostitute or promiscuous woman supposing the sailor to be male and sexually frustrated after a long time at sea. In layman’s terms that would be a hooker or bar girl…
I guess normal folks could never really understand… But it wasn’t always hookers and bar girls as I recall it…  when you’re young and dumb, full of testosterone, and your hands smell like jergens hand lotion from six weeks underway with noth’n but nekkit girlie magazines passed from bunk to bunk…  and stories of Peggy Sue at prom doing the tube snake boogie in the back seat with bra hooks tighter than battened hatches and panty hose stretched over like a gaudamned boat cover…  it’s no wonder us scallywags and crackerjacks were look’n for love in all the stranger places!!!
The foremost merit of the idea of ‘A Girl At Every Port’ was the drinking, dancing, carousing… and ultimately the women!!! After nights on the weather decks freezing the ‘balls off a brass monkey’ in the high pitch of black darkness or scream’n dream’n about big bosoms packaged in lace and legs spread eagle just for your liking… no thanks to that literary masterpiece tucked under the corner of the ol’ mattress… only to wake up in a compartment full of eighty other horny bastards with the same thing in mind, noth’n was sweeter than finding a young doll to cuddle up to once you made it into port!!!
The first thing a young foul smell’n Crackerjack was looking for once he was done handling lines and heard the words…“Secure from Sea & Anchor Detail,  now Liberty Call for all hands not on watch!”… was a big busted blondie with red lipstick dumber than snot ready to spend a few heated moments lock’n lips hot and heavy!!!
The memories keep flash’n by… any city USA, or overseas… didn’t matter! We’d call a taxi over… some Indian fella with a thick accent, mentioning just about every local crack, cranny, corner or hole in the wall slut trap we can pick up a gal… hooker… transvestite… or whatever the hell else floats your boat!!!
It’s funny how the ratio of time spent soliciting a sex partner as a Salty Serviceman is inversely proportional to the actual amount of time being serviced… But it wasn’t always the kill, but the thrill of the chase that could make it so gaudamned enticing, though the chase got a bit easier after a half dozen bottles of suds… just so ya know!!!
I found out there were nightclubs devoted solely to the pleasure of us Crackerjack types… who catered directly to our liking!!! Barmaids would fetch drinks and sometimes have vacancy for a short romantic tryst!!! No matter how you look at it you were still pay’n for it…  but on these nights us shipmates needed to stick together and confirm our social status of male bonding as we handled the women and drank our drunk on…
Sure there were the bargirls in Olongapo and Bangkok… “Buy me Drink. I love you long time. Pucky, Sucky, no Shit”… Mama-Sans or Madams charged crazy prices for girlie drinks so you would pay the bar fine and maybe some pucky sucky afterwords but that was expected in the Carnal World of the Adult Disneyland!!!
But in the states?!?!
We pulled into Hawaii on the Baglady as I was hang’n out with the Hosmeister, Ed ‘Marlboro Man’ Willis and a few others from my division… As we happened into the pub of one of the beachcomber hotels on Waikiki!!!
Now Ed ‘Marlboro Man’ Willis was the kind of fella women took joy in look’n at but this gal was all up on his jockster!!!  And every time Ed would go to the bar to get her a drink… the discretion of her hand would wiggle its way into my lap under the table… 
I looked at the ‘Hos’ and said...

“She’s fangling with my dangling underneath! What should I do?”
He tells me in no uncertain terms...

“She’s a prostitute man!!!”
I looked up at him and Ed in a total assortment of amazement, horror, and fascination… but still smiling from one ear to the other!!! Was she gonna wait to tell Ed until they were stripped down butt nekkit??? 
I never got to find out… but it was a fond lesson learned!!!
Then there were other times we were so gaudamned determined to take on a one night stand you’d either be commode hugg’n blasted drunk or in some dames arms where you’d wake up in the morning only to wonder…

"Holy Shit Batman, how the hell did I end up with that?!?!”
… then try to chew your gaudamned arm off!!!
But one misty evening comes to mind when I was just a young lad at the McDini’s Baha in National City… standing at the Juke Box look’n for some music to play! All of the sudden a see a pair of pink fingernails up from under my ball support take hold from my backside… I turned around and there was this heavy set gal…

“Hello Sailor, you’re com’n home with me tonight!”
 She was a real woman with big bosoms and smelled like perfume… but I walked over to my barstool as I sat with my classmate who happened to be an Australian Sailor from ‘down-under’ named Stevo… we were in CIWS ‘C’ school together and he loved to drink… and screw… and talk a lot of shit…
“Hey mate, I’m a gonna tell everyone in class how yee stuck a porka tonight unless yee get her ta take me home too right?!” 
Now that kind’a proposition left me a bit speechless but I figured hey, why the hell not!!! So I sprayed a bit a ‘Binaca’ into my pie hole and asked her if she’d like the two for one special… By Golly… she was Game for it!!! 
And so that was that… first time I ever played tag team ‘Bronco Billy Style’ with another fella only to hear her yell…
“Call me a Bitch… Call me a slut… Call me a Whore!!!”
Then there was the time in Cartegna, Columbia and a shipmate so lovingly called Lorenzo by the local cartel of Pimps who bought a hooker on credit!!! If anybody could sweet talk a pimp to buy a hooker on credit… It was Lorenzo!!! Those sons-a-bitches chased us up and down and all through the old town for two days before they finally got their money!!!
I gotta tell ya, I was in fear of my life!!! 
Then eventually one of your shipmates would marry one of these gals… you’d warn him and plead with him… but eventually it would have to happen… her double soft chesty pillows were too gaudamned fluffy for him to resist…
At the wedding she’d throw out the ol’ garter…

“The hell with that, I want her panties… Autographed & soiled!!!”
I knew that peg-legged ol’ Sea Salts and talk’n parrots were stuff of legend but the Girl at Every Port ain’t too much to ask for from a Pirate Two-Hundred years too late… is it???
My idea of going to heaven and meet’n Peter at the Pearly Gates is having a couple of big breasted maidens waitn’ for me to enjoy the ride!!!!!

Sunday, December 11, 2011

The Line Service Monkey

I got this off the USS King Website... pretty funny

A fellow walked into a pet store and was looking at the animals on display.
While he was there, a Master Chief Petty Officer from the local Naval Air
Station walked in and said to the shopkeeper, "I'd like a line service
monkey, please. "  The clerk nodded, went to a cage at the side of the store
and took out a monkey.  He put a collar and leash on the animal and handed
it to the Chief, saying, "That'll be $1,000. "  The Chief paid and left with
the monkey.

Surprised, the fellow went to the shopkeeper and said, "That was a very
expensive monkey.  Most of them are only a few hundred dollars.  Why did
that one cost so much? "  The shopkeeper answered, "Ah that was a line
service monkey. He can park, fuel, and service all Naval aircraft, conduct
all required ground ops testing, rig aircraft flight controls, and all with
no mistakes.  He is also trained in all carrier flight deck ops.  He's well
worth the money. "

With his interest peaked, the fellow looked around and spotted a monkey in
another cage with a $10,000 price tag. "That one's even more expensive!
What can it do? "  "Oh, that one is a "Maintenance Supervisor" monkey.  He
can instruct at all levels of aircraft maintenance, supervise all corrective
and preventive maintenance programs, supervise a crew of maintainers, and
even do most of the paperwork.  A very useful monkey indeed, " replied the
shopkeeper.

The guy looked around a little longer and found a third monkey in a cage.
The price tag read, "$50,000".  Holy cow!  What does this one do? "
"Well,"  the shopkeeper said,  "I've never actually seen him do anything but
drink beer, chase the girl monkeys, and play, but his papers say he's a pilot."



Monday, December 5, 2011

‘Some Things Never Change’

Back in the ‘Ol Canoe Club’ we spent eight weeks in a linear fashion on certain rules, regulations, brainwashing techniques as well as a half dozen other uniformed ways of spending your life out at sea… if it didn’t teach you anything else, you remembered how to professionally fold your clothes into a space the size of a shoe box and… well… about an infinite different ways to tell if a girl has VD!!! 

After so many years of getting all this poured into the ol’ nogg’n some things just become a force of habit.  You don’t have to think about it anymore it just becomes a way of life and you accept it…

Never thought in a million years I’d carry on with some of those habits two years after retiring… I guess some things just don’t go away!!!

I knew for sure I was gonna grow a gaudamned mullet when I got out… that was the fashion when I went in… But my other half prohibits me from gett’n within twenty feet of the bedroom unless I cut that hair… and a goatee??? Forget it… my little princess of a daughter reminds me everyday to shave those whiskers or no good morning hugs and kisses…

No, life ain’t what I thought it’d be like when I became civilianized… just like that movie ‘Shawshank Redemption’… I’ve been institutionalized and there ain’t no coming back from it… it’s forever implanted in your gaudammed brain…

Hell, you do things without even trying… Just the other day I got the ol’ slap on the wrist by our quality control people for running a line through my zeros and crossing my sevens…

“It looks like you are crossing them out.”

Well with the doctor’s office kind’a catch scratch I see day to day,  how the hell can you tell the difference between a damned alphabetical ‘O’ and ‘0’… there’s a reason for it…

But I still print in all uppercase… and everyone always knows it’s me… but the only one who complains is my  daughter…

“Daddy, that is not the correct way to write a sentence… you only capitalize the beginning and the names!” 

At least I know they’re teaching her something right in school!!!

 And my oldest daughter goes nuts when she hears me talking on the phone… I still pronounce the ol’ three as a tree and five as in Barney ‘Fife’…  good ol’ radio jargon!!!

I guess she’ll never understand…

Then there are the extension cords and Christmas lights… you know I still wind them all up like heaving lines… good thing I don’t toss’m across the roof that way… just get me a monkey fist and I can make it happen!!!

Hell, just the other day I was coming outta the building where I work and the Operations Supervisor came from the other direction and said hello… ‘I CALLED HIM SIR!!!’ 

Of course he looked at me funny…

And when I leave the house I still have to tell the executive Officer (my wife) when I’ll be outside the permissible radius or end up in deep doo-doo!!! That would be the allowable distance permitted by my ol’ lady to make sure I’m home in time for dinner, mowing the lawn, or any other chore she’s got me handling on that particular day… hang’n Christmas lights and seasonal stuff about this time of year!!! Back in my Navy days the permissible radius was about 250 miles from the base within a 72 hour liberty… must’ve figured we were anchored down with bowling balls and anvils or something and couldn’t get anywhere fast… 

The brass obviously underestimate the power of an E-3 full of testosterone and booze…

But at this point in my life I’m more interested in self preservation for the fear of being chased outta the house with a rolling pin… maybe the ol’ lady might even cozy up to me if I’m real good…

But one thing I know for sure will never change after all those years on the ‘Seven Seas’… Until I’m old and geezer like… I’m still gonna be tell’n Sea Stories and ‘no shitters’ cause you gotta consider the places I’ve been and the kind’a things I’ve seen… hold on to your knickers and white hats cause ‘YOU AIN’T GONNA BELIEVE THIS SHIT!!!!!!


Sunday, December 4, 2011

‘Twas the night before Christmas’

I got this one off the USS Bagley's Facebook page... thought I'd borrow it and share with my shipmates...

Twas the night before Christmas, the ship was out steaming, Sailors stood watch while others were dreaming. They lived in a crowd with racks tight and small, In a 80-man berthing, cramped one and all. I had come down the stack with presents to give, And to see inside just who might perhaps live. I looked all about, a strange sight did I see, No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree. No stockings we...re hung, shined boots close at hand, On the bulkhead hung pictures of a far distant land. They had medals and badges and awards of all kind, And a sober thought came into my mind. For this place was different, so dark and so dreary, I had found the house of a Sailor, once I saw clearly. A Sailor lay sleeping, silent and alone, Curled up in a rack and dreaming of home. The face was so gentle, the room squared away, This was the United States Sailor… of today! This was the hero I saw on TV, Defending our country so we could be free. I realized the families that I would visit this night, the children would play, and grownups would celebrate on Christmas Day.  They all enjoyed freedom each day of the year, because of the Sailor, like the one lying here. I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone, On a cold Christmas Eve on a sea, far from home. The very thought awakened and I heard a calm voice, “Santa, don’t cry, this life is my choice.” “Defending the seas all days of the year, So others may live and be free with no fear.” I thought for a moment, what a difficult road, To live a life guided by honor and code. Alfter all it’s Christmas Eve and the ship’s uderway! But freedom isn’t free and it’s sailors who pay. The Sailor say’s to our country “Be free and sleep tight, No harm will come, no on my watch and not on this night.” The Sailor rolled over and drifted to sleep, I couldn’t control it, I continued to weep.  I kept watch for hours, so silent, so still, I watched as the Sailor shivered from the night’s cold chill.  I dind’t want to leave on that cold dark night, This guardian of honor so willing to fight.  The Sailor rolled over and with a voice strong and sure, Commanded, “Carry on Santa, It’s Christmas, and All Is Secure!”e room squared away, This was the United States Sailor today. This was the hero I saw on TV, Defending our country so we could be free. I realized the families that I would visit this night, Owed their lives to these Sailors lay willing to fight. Soon round the world, the children would play, And grownups would celebrate on Christmas Day. They all enjoyed freedom each day of the year, Because of the Sailor, like the one lying here. I couldn't help wonder how many lay alone, On a cold Christmas Eve on a sea, far from home. The very thought brought a tear to my eye, I dropped to my knees and started to cry. The Sailor awakened and I heard a calm voice, "Santa, don't cry, this life is my choice." "Defending the seas all days of the year, So others may live and be free with no fear." I thought for a moment, what a difficult road, To live a life guided by honor and code. After all it's Christmas Eve and the ship's underway! But freedom isn't free and it's sailors who pay. The Sailor say's to our country "be free and sleep tight, No harm will come, not on my watch and not on this night. The Sailor rolled over and drifted to sleep, I couldn't control it, I continued to weep. I kept watch for hours, so silent, so still, I watched as the Sailor shivered from the night's cold chill. I didn't want to leave on that cold dark night, This guardian of honor so willing to fight. The Sailor rolled over and with a voice strong and sure, Commanded, "Carry on Santa, It's Christmas, and All is Secure!

Friday, December 2, 2011

‘Cherry Boy Sailor’

A very naive young ‘boot’ sailor is in a bar in San Diego. He meets a wild girl, and she takes him to her apartment. She takes off her pants and her panties. 
He looks between her legs, and he says, “What’s that?”
She says, “It’s me lower mouth.”
He says, “What do you mean, ‘your lower mouth?’”
She says, “Just what I said, it’s me lower mouth. It’s got a moustache… It’s got lips…”
He asks, “Has it got a tongue in it?”
She says, “Not yet. . .”

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Fondness Of The Heart

A newly married sailor was informed by the navy that he was going to be stationed a long way from home on a remote island in the Pacific for a year. A few weeks after he got there he began to miss his new wife, so he wrote her a letter.

"My love," he wrote "we are going to be apart for a very long time. Already I'm starting to miss you and there's really not much to do here in the evenings. Besides that we're constantly surrounded by young attractive native girls. Do you think if I had a hobby of some kind I would not tempted? "

So his wife sent him back a harmonica saying, "why don't you learn to play this?"

Eventually his tour of duty came to an end and he rushed back to his wife. "Darling" he said, "I can't wait to get you into bed so that we make passionate love!"

She kissed him and said, "First let's see you play that harmonica."
 

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

‘Army Of One’

I came across one of them ‘Demotivational’ posters the other day: Army Of One!!!

“Remember that kid, the one who ate glue? He’s behind the wheel of $$Five Million Dollars$$ now!”

Of course the picture displayed an Abrams Tank on its backside in a ditch somewhere in Iraq or Afghanistan…

I remember when the Army came up with that new motto, a sales pitch to modernize the ‘Be All You Can Be’ slogan!! Go figure… I was a recruiter at the time!!!

I thought to myself,

“An Army Of One… what the hell does that mean?”

How in gaudamned tarnation do you produce ‘espirit de corp’ outta that bunch’a blow it out your ass kinda bullshit?? They would’a been better off say’n something like,

“Army Teamwork… cause it gives the enemy someone else to shoot at!!!”
or
“Bravery is being the only one who knows your’e afraid!!!”

I mean, how in the hell do you create a well lubricated fight’n machine outta grunts who claim to be individual armies of one? Who is an army of one accountable too anyway… himself??

I figured if the Army was smart enough to figure out if the enemy is in range then so are you… they should’a figured out how to put together a better sales pitch!!!
I personally like the Seabees…

“The difficult we do immediately… the impossible takes a little longer!”

or the Navy Seals,

“The only easy day was yesterday!”

I remember the first ‘Army Of One’ commercial of some young fella running up a hill with his full pack on in desert weather… trying to prove he had what it took to be an Army Ranger…

Guess it didn’t work out too well for him… about six months later an article came out in the military times on how that poor young soldier failed out of Ranger Training cause he couldn’t hack it… guess they should’a screened a little better for a recruiting ad!!!

I fully took advantage of that article at 0600 hours in the morning as I posted it on the front glass door of the Army Recruiting Office of 71st Street in Tulsa, Oklahoma… right next to my office! Needless to say, those sons-a-bitches weren’t very humored… had a few death threats and a lot of banter back and forth!!! It also made for a great selling point when comparing services…

‘An Army Of One’… Just what kind’a whacky weed are those fellas in green smok’n anyway… maybe they need some rehab therapy… probably the reason they did away with the slogan!!!

The Navy’s counter point…

Life… Liberty… and the pursuit of all who threaten it!!! –The Navy- Accelerate you life…
Now I won’t call that a stroke of genius but sure beats the hell outta an ‘Army Of One’…

Maybe they were try’n to take off an ol’ phrase from Alexander The Great…

“I am not afraid of an Army of one hundred lions led by sheep… but I am afraid of an Army of one hundred sheep led by a lion!!!”

But I still remember what my recruiter told me before I left to Bootcamp…

“Don’t ever be the first, don’t ever be the last, and don’t ever volunteer to do anything!”

If I only would’a known about Navy Acronyms…

… ‘Navy… Never Again Volunteer Yourself’ …



Saturday, November 19, 2011

‘Those Damned Ensigns’

An ensign who after his evening repast, asked the duty mess cook:

“Seaman Jones, I would like a bowl of chocolate ice cream for dessert.”

But the mess cook replies,

“I’m sorry sir, but our delivery of chocolate ice cream was short chocolate ice cream and we are out.”

The young ensign replies,

“In that case sailor, I’ll just have a nice chocolate ice cream, that’s an order.”

“Sir, can you spell ‘van’ as in Vanilla?”

“of course, V_A_N!”

“Sir, can you spell ‘straw as in strawberry?”

“Certainly, S_T_R_A_W.”

“Sir, can you spell ‘stink’ as in chocolate?”

“There is no ‘stink’ in chocolate seaman jone!”

“That Sir, is what I’ve been try’n to tell you!!!



Been On Both Sides Of This Coin...

Friday, November 18, 2011

‘Staten Island Ferry’

Two Gay Men were walking across the Brooklyn Bridge

One asks the other,

“What’s the name of that boat?”

His friend said,

“That’s the Staten Island Ferry!”

The first replied,

“I knew we were diversified but I didn’t know we had our own Navy!!!”




Thursday, November 17, 2011

‘Dry Dock Karma’

It’s hard to fancy in this day and age that sea going ships are still dry dock’n and refurbish’n the same way they were a  hundred years ago! ‘Back in the days of Yore’… before ‘Noah and the Ark’… ships were hauled into these strange contraptions and emptied of their aquatic contents only to leave the big hull sitt’n on a couple of snatch blocks at the bottom of a giant emptied pool!!!

Dry Dock is a damned dirty place and one hell of a way to waste some time doing nothing. The ship’s got holes in the hull with cables runn’n in every which direction, welding cables (I’ll get to that one), thousands of tags hang’n in every overhead, nick and cranny, and the ‘yardbirds’…  wretched, sorry sons-a-bitches running left to right over taking the whole gaudamned place…

The C.O.C. has noth’n better to do than assign a bunch of retarded watches to keep the ‘crackerjack’ ranks from think’n up too much stupid shit to get themselves into… A horrible situation that would suck the life outta you if you didn’t take it all in stride!!!
I remember my first Dry Dock, USS Steadfast, on the ol’ Baglady in the summer of 89’… Mostly remember one of my shipmates had a wife work’n onboard and she was quite a looker… nobody could keep their damned eyes off of her… she was a true knock out… cause that’s what her husband would do if you stared too gaudamned long!! I also remember a fire in the middle of the gaudamned night…

Dinga linga linga linga ling… Ding! Fire, Fire, Fire… Fire in the cruise lounge… forward… portside!!”

I remember Mark Niehoff runn’n down the p-way like a madman at 0200 hours in the morning in his skivvies try’n to put out a gaudamned electrical fire in the door between the cruise lounge and the forward berthing compartment… no thanks to a welding cable gett’n crimped into the hatch with over a thousand amps runn’n through it!! Niehoff didn’t even get so much as a pat on the back for his troubles… these days you’d get a Navy Commendation Medal for that shit!!!

But so is the way it was back then…

Then was my second ship… the mighty Carrier USS ‘Chucky “V”… Yep, that’s the one Osama Bin Laden was sent to Davey Jones Locker from… I spent my first two years onboard in a Complex Overhaul from 91 to 93’. It was time for this bird farm of massive oxidation to do some time on the blocks in the ol’ Dry Dock…

It was a pretty cool proposition watching one of the biggest gaudamned pieces of steel ever built sitt’n in one of the largest dry docks in the world… watch’n the enormous screws… “hock’n a loogie” over the flight deck and watch it all the way down… ‘splatt’ into the rust filled pit below… steal’n air hoses, needle guns and knuckle busters from yardbirds leaving them lay’n around…

Yep, this was a different kind’a dry dock period… Right in the middle of the restricted area of Penis Anus Naval Shipyard, Bremerton, Washington… a true wonderland of repair shops, supply distribution points, stores, crates, hoists, cranes, cut up ‘Cold War’ submarines, you name it…

This place was a scavenger’s paradise for cumshaw agents of wholesale misappropriations where it’s better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission…

We came up with everything from freshly minted air tools, paint thinner, rust inhibitors with names we couldn’t pronounce to placards with the name ‘USS Nimitz’ printed in big bold letters on the side… wonder if those sons-a-bitches are still look’n for that stuff!!!   
The U.S. military just got done kick’n Sadam Hussein’s ass all over the Mideast and we were busy lay’n up our systems cause we knew we’d be hang’n around for a while…

Knock’n off ships work by 1200 hours everyday liv’n for Thursday Zone Inspections and late night libations with the local Bremeloes… unless your ass was in Fire Watch Division your lack of usefulness made for a complete absence of any gaudamned common sense…
My buddy Shawn Mitchell was ‘Fire Watch’… he told me about how the sons-a-bitches would be doing hot work on one side of a bulkhead while he’d be twiddling his thumbs on the other read’n some nudie magazines forever and a day staring at the gaudamned bulkhead before he’d realized the hot work had been over three or four hours and no one let ‘em know they were finished!!!

 Meanwhile Chief walks into one of the working spaces with an open void and no gas free chit only to find an empty six pack of Rainier’s finest and a nasty puddle of piss in the far corner… what else were them pipefitters good for!?!?

If we didn’t wanna get caught doing nothing… then off to the Gaffey to waste our time… the Gaffey was an old Army Rust Bucket of a ship we used for temporary office and living space while the ‘Chucky’ was on blocks… we usually found some quite dark corner to sleep our day away so we could party all night!!!

When Chief would come look’n for us,

“Where the hell you sons-a-bitches been all gaudamned day!!!”

We’d give him that shit eating grin,

“Sorry Chief, we were down at the mobile blood unit by the NEX donating to the cause…”

Of course Chief would replie,

“You sorry asses try’n to dilute the blood supply with 180 proof plasma? Sorry sons-a-bitches get back to work!!!”

But nothing was ever more memorable than walk’n in on the little feller in the AIMD berthing head yank’n his tally wacker like no tomorrow… brought on a whole new meaning to ‘turn’n Japanese’…

Years later… things still hadn’t changed. Spent a couple of Ship Restricted Availabilities at Todd Shipyard in Seattle. On my last one pulling in on the ‘Mighty Momsen’ we heaved our lines over to the pier right about 1600 hours and the shipyard whistle blew… ‘HONNNNNK!!!’

Next thing we knew everyone of them sorry bastards dropped the lines right on the deck of the pier and commenced to walking off while we stood there with our proverbial ‘dicks in our hands’… The shift lead had to come runn’n back out scream’n and hollering,

“Get back on the lines you all get overtime… you all get overtime!!!”

Found out later it was the whole gaudamned Union thing causing the debacle… Couldn’t give a shit less if we tide up to the pier or not… guess that’s what I get for cumshaw’n all those air hoses and chip’n hammers all those years ago!!!

Karma’s a Bitch…

Friday, November 11, 2011

‘Chief Corpsman Wisdom’

A sailor fell asleep at the beach. He woke up several hours later and suffered a severe sunburn to his legs and was taken to the closest medical facility, which happened to be the Naval Clinic on base…
His skin had turned red and was very painful and had started to blister. Anything that touched his legs caused agony. The lead on the medical staff at the naval clinic that night was a Chief Corpsman.  The chief checked him out and then prescribed continued intravenous feedinhgs of water, electrolytes, a mild sedative, and Viagra!!!
Rather astounded, the 3rd Class Corpsman who was with the Chief inquired,
“What good will Viagra do him in that condition?”
The Chief replied,
“It’ll keep the sheet off his legs.”


Thursday, November 10, 2011

'True Colors'

Long ago, when sailing ships ruled the waves, a captain and his crew were in danger of being boarded by a pirate ship. As the crew became frantic, the captain bellowed to his First Mate, "Bring me my red shirt!". The First Mate quickly retrieved the captain's red shirt, which the captain put on and lead the crew to battle the pirate boarding party. Although some casualties occurred among the crew, the pirates were repelled.

Later that day, the lookout screamed that there were two pirate vessels sending boarding parties. The crew cowered in fear, but the captain calm as ever bellowed, "Bring me my red shirt!". The battle was on, and once again the Captain and his crew repelled both boarding parties, although this time more casualties occurred.

Weary from the battles, the men sat around on deck that night recounting the day's occurrences when an ensign looked to the Captain and asked, "Sir, why did you call for your red shirt before the battle?". The Captain, giving the ensign a look that only a captain can give, exhorted, "If I am wounded in battle, the red shirt does not show the wound and thus, you men will continue to fight unafraid". The men sat in silence marveling at the courage of such a man.

As dawn came the next morning, the lookout screamed that there were pirate ships, 10 of them, all with boarding parties on their way. The men became silent and looked to their Captain for his usual command. The Captain, calm as ever, bellowed, "Bring me my brown pants!!






Saturday, November 5, 2011

‘Lord Farquaad Kim Jong-il (How Do Wu Wike Me Now) Martinez II”

Remember the ones? The Snot Nosed Arrogant Elitist bastards who held the rank of Officer?? Not all of them mind you… bout’ 70% of em’ were okay by me… but there’s always the ones that really  got my goat if you know what I mean… Lord Farquaad comes to mind…
Lord Farquaad was the main bad guy… antagonist villain in the original Shrek movie!! Short in stature, ruthless to the point of expecting everyone to kiss his ass and lived in a towering castle to compensate for what he lacked in stature!!!
That about sums up Lord Lieutenant Farquaad Martinez II back on the mighty MOMSEN… I think it was Chief Ryan who gave him that name. Heath Ryan was a rather large man… Six Foot’ Four, Two Hundred Eighty Pounds of large man!!! The kinda man you wanted on your side in a bar fight!!! He also slept above me on the top rack in Chief’s berthing… It took me four years to be certain the pop rivets in the bunk weren’t gonna pop-out and I’d have Two Hundred Eighty pounds of Baby Huey crushing down on me when the sonar dome hit that perfect wave, but once again… I regress
Heath Ryan enjoyed nothing better than giving that son-of-a-bitch a good heckl'n when chance revealed itself. He said Martinez must’ve been one of them nerds who got beat up a lot in school so now he got off on the power and authority of wearing the officer uniform!!!
I gotta tell ya, he looked pretty gaudamned ridiculous in his dress whites… put that combo cover on his head with the ol’ officer crest and he looked like he was gonna tip over!!! 
Then the movie ‘Team America’ came out… one of the damned funniest flicks you’d ever seen! Low and behold, Lord Farquaad got a new nickname… ‘Kim Jong-il’… the villain who supplied all terrorists alike with weapons of mass destruction, and his supporting cast from the Film Acters Guild (FAG)!!!
“How wuu wike me now Team Chief Mess! All enwisted peopowe incwooding Chiefs can kiss my ass… I am WEPS and I have Weapons of Mass Distwuction!!!”
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not officers I necessarily disliked, I think they hold a vital role in the Navy… from the past to the future… but that gaudamned ‘holier than though I’m better than you attitude was what most of us couldn’t stand…
Lord Farquaad Kim Jong-Il Martinez II was the epitome of this type… always look’n down his nose, holding everything we said in disdain, and condescending to the bone… always questioning us with intensity never giving us any benefit of the doubt!!!  
I don’t know who the son-of-a-bitch was that mentored this asshole but he was definitely a monster in the making! It was quite evident this fella’s only concern in life was for himself!! He was a smug kinda man who’s rank was his only way to achieve respect, and couldn’t just leave it at the job…
Hell even the Wardroom had contempt for him… our whole department was the joke of the ship thanks to this guy… on a destroyer… the Weapons Department!?!? We couldn’t get a break in edge-wise!!! 
He could never back his Chiefs and treated just about all ‘Chits’ like some kind’a ‘declaration of mutiny’… that was about the end of it for me. One of my young'ns ran a request chit to go on leave and after about three or four days I went to hunt the son-of-a-bitch down where all roads ended at the Weps Stateroom. He swore he never got the chit and tried to keep the young fella from going on leave because I wouldn’t be able to get a new one ran up the chain fast enough… so I personally walked the damned thing up to the CO!!!
He wasn’t too happy about that… but that was about his speed…
I guess Core Values were shitcanned in this guy’s indoctrination into officerhood. So needless to say, he made no friends and plenty of enemies with the crew…
This is an important theme to my story here as you will find out…
You see Lord Farquaad Kim Jong-il Martinez II had a bad habit of nodding-off on watch late at night… sometimes we’d play pin the tail on the backside of the TAO… “Kiss me if you feel lucky” or “Kick me in the Jimmy” and even the gaudamned Watch Officer would get in on it…
So there we were on the midwatch underway in CIC… attention on deck was called as the Skipper came through the port entrance and Weps was the TAO on watch… the eyes and ears of all things tactical and important to the purpose of our existence underway!!! Lord Farquaad Kim Jong-il Martinez II was out cold at the TAO console… as the Skipper just stood over him for about ten seconds waiting for him to awake…
Needless to say the ol’ Skipper was not so well amused… ‘woke his ass up’ and asked to meet him in his cabin when he’s more alert from his slumber.  Boy, Lord Farquaad Kim Jong-il Martinez had his tail between his legs at that point!!!
When he came back from his ass chewing he says,
“Why didn’t anybody let me know? I can’t believe you guys let me down like that!!”
Well Mr. WEPS, if you had a little more tact and courtesy towards your subordinates and didn’t’ treat’m like stepping stones for your own devices… you might get treated in kind… never gonna get anywhere in this Navy with ‘bullying and browbeating’!!!
Kind’a reminds me of an ol’ joke I once heard…
Officer: “Hey Shipmate, do you have change for a dollar?”
Sailor:  “Sure do buddy!”
Officer: “That’s no way to address an officer! Now let’s try it again!”
Officer: “Shipmate, do you have change for a dollar?”
Sailor: “No SIR!!!”