Sunday, March 25, 2012

Red, White & Blue

A Dutch Sailor was explaining the red, white, and blue Netherlands flag to an American Sailor.

"Our flag is symbolic of our taxes. We get red when we talk about them, white when we get our tax bills, and blue after we pay them."

The American Sailor nodded.

"It's the same in the USA only we see stars, too!"

Saturday, March 24, 2012


Honestly... Doesn't this resemble somebody you know?!?!

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

‘Cleaning Heads’

After ‘Morning Quarters’ when berthing was fumigated with pine oil and the low life natives  of the shit-hole we called living quarters were chased out with swabs… foxtails… duct tape and make-shift (Secured til’ further notice… Use the last shitter on the left) paper signs, us bottom of the barrel end of the evolutionary chain bottom feeders not qualified to needle gun the dried shit from an ol’ leather boon-docker were  left to clean the shitters and take out the trash… that was about the discourse of life in those younger years!!!

Ship’s Berthing was like a monkey cage in a zoo… shit fly’n from every corner of the compartment… and if it weren’t for heads-n-beads in the morning… we’d be condemned by the EPA… OSHA… DHS… and all the other Federal Departments of the alphabet cereal connection!!!

Our head was like a municipal septic tank for all walks of life… if it weren’t for the clean’n and care we put in daily… the unholy smell of piss water swash’n around…  farts… body odor… dirty feet… brillo pad pubes and the septic ‘XXX’ funk…   let’s just say it could get pretty nasty in those places!!!

When ‘Papa dropped the kids off at the pool’… we took care of the residual byproduct.

It was like clockwork… break’n out the pine oil, GP, Officer’s Cakes…

“Send Seaman Schmuckaroo down to the Boatswain’s Locker for trashbags, toilet paper, and paper towels”

And we were off to the races!!!

Predictably… while wiping down the shitter stalls and read’n all that glorious poetry there’d be traces left from the ill-reputed ‘Booger Bandit’!!! Never caught the son-of-a-bitch… but if I ever did, I would’a beat his ass so bad he’d have to clear his throat just to fart!!

I always had this image in my head of this fella… digg’n way deep like he’s prospecting for gold… smearing it on… one after the other!!! There’s a gaudamned roll of toilet paper right in front of you ‘ASSHOLE’!!!

Never could quite figure that one out…

Then you’d always have the crooked son-of-a-bitch that walks up to the urinal and pisses in every which direction known to man! You’d be ten feet away and this jackass is ricochet spray’n eleven feet into your direction!!

“Hey look at me… no hands!!!”

While he’s drain’n the dragon he’s gotta start up a conversation like he’s anticipating you check’n out his package… I mean what the hell… either this fella was born in a Sausage Kennel try’n to bait the hook or he’s a few clowns short of a circus… either way he’s look’n for an ass whoop’n!!!

It’s not like you didn’t have enough on your mind try’n to get this place spick’n span before the ‘XO’ made his announcement!!!

Then you got the lil’ introverted feller pinch’n off a loaf and stand’n there with his pants down to his ankles while he shoves his dungeroo shirt down his skivvies sooo gaudamned far it hangs out the bottom… Do we really gotta witness this shit… I mean really!?!?

I guess it’s not as bad as the fella in his ‘grape smuggl’n Banana Hammock’!! Noth’n worse than witness’n an overstretched bag-o-golf balls trancing around for everyone to see!!!

Then of course after wiping down all the mirrors and sinks… there’s always the son-of-a-bitch turn’n on the water… doing the two second shuffle with the soap and shakes his hands allover your gaudamned art work!!! Then he walks out leaving the gaudamned door handle wet… don’t know if it’s whiskey piss or nasty sewage water… your guess is as good as mine!!!

Now I know why the ‘XO’ wear’s a gaudamned glove…

And it would never fail! Just before the ‘XO’ came in to give his white glove assessment… the ‘Shithouse Camper’ would come waltz’n in with some nekkit gurlie read’n material sitt’n in his own juices while performing a burial at sea…

“Man I can’t wait to get back import… I’m gonna be driving the beef bus to tuna town… and play hide the salami in the bearded oysta!”

“Noboday wants to hear you cry’n… you ain’t had pussy since pussy had you!!”

Next thing that followed was the sound of someone play’n the ol’ skin flute with the ‘one-eyed monster’…

“Hey, sounds like you’re gett’n in a fight with Rosy Palm and her five sisters in there!”…

“It’s five against one… that ain’t fair!!”

“What’s wrong Seaman Stains… you wanna join’em?”

“AAAH go to hell… all you guys!!”

“Knock off the bullshit and get to work!!!"

Then you heard the relentless spinning of the ol’ toilet paper roll… twenty-five feet at a thousand RPM… almost sounds like one of them Cummings diesels start’n up!!! The son-of-a-bitch must’a had his whole gaudamned hand wrapped in it!!!

Then the shitter door pops open… and ‘Whaaa-laaah!!’ noth’n but man-chowder all over the gaudamned bulkhead you just scrubbed twenty minutes ago… and the wad of toilet paper that won’t flush… probably the same gaudamned reason the shitters always got clogged… time to call in the turd chasers!!!

“Thanks asshole… Don’t let the door hit ya where the good lord split ya on the way out!!”

Besides all the untamed animals who could gag a maggot on a gut wagon… there was always the complain’n from the female berthing… I heard it can smell like a shithouse on a shrimp boat in the dead heat of summer!!!

There’s a reason we kept the A/C down two degrees below freez’n!!! But you know what they say…

“That which don’t kill ya makes you full of shit… with lot’s of character too!!!”

Yea, this was the life we lived… the daily norm’ underway for a typical sailor on the high seas!!!



Saturday, March 17, 2012

‘Ol’ Chief The Lion Tamer’

A circus owner runs an ad for a lion tamer and two people show up. One is a retired Navy Chief in his late sixties and the other is a gorgeous blond in her mid-twenties.

The circus owner tells them, "I'm not going to sugar coat it… This is one ferocious lion. He ate my last tamer so you two had better be good or you're history. Here's your equipment… chair… whip and a gun. Who wants to try out first?"

The girl says, "I'll go first."  She walks past the chair, the whip and the gun and steps right into the lion's cage. The lion starts to snarl and pant and begins to charge her. About halfway there, she throws open her coat revealing her beautiful naked body…

The lion stops dead in his tracks, sheepishly crawls up to her and starts licking her feet and ankles. He continues to lick and kiss her entire body for several minutes and then rests his head at her feet.

The circus owner's jaw is on the floor. He says, "I've never seen a display like that in my life." He then turns to the retired Navy Chief and asks, "Can you top that?"

The tough old Chief replies, "No problem, just get that lion out of there." 

Friday, March 16, 2012

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

'Another Naughty Navy Tale'

If you were the parent of a young lady within a fifty mile radius of the Great Lakes Naval Base you were well versed in the ancient art of donning Chastity Belts!! The fair young maidens of Waukegan, Illinois and the surrounding area were more persuaded toward the type of fella who wore civilian clothes 24/7 and didn’t have a chance of moving cross country in the next month or two…

Now the Chief at the Barracks always told us young Crackerjacks’

“Don’t shit in your own nest!” … or was it … “Don’t shit where you eat!”

It was someth’n or rather of the sort… But when you’re nineteen and hornier than a three ‘Peckered Billy Goat’ then a young female type ‘Crackerjack’ in the barracks hall was look’n really good…

I remember walk’n through the barracks Quarterdeck and gett’n a whiff of some of that fresh squeeze perfume, when some tender young thing in her tight navy skirt and Double ‘D’ Bosoms ready to pop outta that white blouse!!!  The next thing you knew you were root’n through your barracks room for a set of whites and heading to the Helm Club like a cocky rooster in a hen house...

There were some Navy gals who were known for sharing their delights with numerous young men on a lonely night. I’m sure a few fellas have stories of laying alongside a soft young gal on a chilly night doing things that’d set a Karma Sutra sex manual on fire. One gal was so caught up in carnal contortionism she was dismissed from the ol’ Canoe Club for poor gynecological hygiene… so the story goes anyway!!!

Soooo once you headed to the Helm Club there was noth’n but wall to wall Squid Row… male and female!!! These  feminine Crackerjacks… they weren’t fancy & they weren’t sophisticated… and you had your choice… ‘Lady Enginemen’… uglier than a baboon’s butt, ‘Lil Sally Twidget’… usually smarter than she looks and ain’t gonna let you in them panties anytime soon… and what we frequently referred to as ‘The Corp Whore’… not gonna say they were all that way but I didn’t give them the name, it was there before I got there…

Corp Whore was the endearing name given to the female Corpsman on the south side of base.  They all had to come to our side to visit the club and there was quite a ratio a females to males on the other end so us folks from the northern tribe had a little bit of extra charm for the ladies!!!

We bought ’em drinks and danced with them… tell’n stories from back home and spread’n our diversivication!! After a few beers and some touchy feely under the table it would be time to call it a night…

Next thing you knew we were head’n out the door with one of those gals happier than a baby in bag of tits searching for some cohabital space! Young Navy Crackerjacks sure ain’t known for their sensitivity of location when it comes to gett’n a little nooky… Barracks parking lots, behind the bushes, the bandstand in front of the Admiral’s building on the parade field, in any dark place you could find… didn't matter. A few beers and some adventure up a military regulation blouse… that’s all that mattered!!!

On this one particular night with this one particular young lady who was just a little bit country… think she was from Texas… ‘had me doin’ all sorts of country bumpkin dancing… and she got me harder than a woodpecker’s lips before we even head out the door!!!

Hell before we could get halfway down the road I had her blouse unbuttoned and she’d ripped my front pocket out of my whites… There was a little cubby-hole on the south side of the base pool where we had a lil’ hanky-panky up against the wall but too many passer byes look’n to do the same thing I suppose!!!

So we headed further south towards Corpside and found a little wooden trail going down a ravine by the bridge to the bowling alley! We walked down a wooden stairwell where there was a dog pen… suppose that was for the police dogs…

Now if your eyes, ears, and imagination are too vivid, you might wanna skip this next part… 
So there we were stripp’n down butt nekkit try’n every which way we could to find that comfortable position on a wooden deck… have you ever tried to do the ‘double slap butt nekkit watusi’ on a wooden deck before?!?! It’s kind’a hard on the knees!!!

We’d been going at it and work’n up a sweat for a good ten minutes when out of nowhere about a dozen or so flood lights came shining down outta the trees… It was like prime time at the Super Bowl with my pants around my ankles and her blouse all wrapped around my arm…

Knowing we were in deep shit we grabbed our clothes and went running down the ravine up to the side of the hill underneath the bridge… it was wet-n-muddy with over grown grass and we were both struggling to get our clothes back on… keep in mind these were summer whites!!!

I got up the side of the bridge first and right there at the top was a base police car just wait’n for me shining his flashlight in my face…

“Son, what are you doing down there at this time of night?”

I must’ve had a whole kaleidoscope of animated facial expressions…

“I was just down there with my girlfriend taking a walk!”

Trying not to lie too much but knowing we weren’t supposed to be down there…

“Well where’s the girl?”

We must’ve waited for a long ten minutes before one of the police cars found her…

“Well they found your girl hiding behind some cinder blocks. Apparently she hurt her ankle… do you want a ride to the hospital so you can check up on her?”

Ahh hell, I’d known this gal for no more than a few hours and looked pretty stupid all muddy and grass stained… but it was only the right thing to do, so I hopped in his car, the whole while he’s got a smirk on his face! I suppose he thought it was pretty damned amusing… hell look’n back I suppose I would have too!!!

We got to the Hospital and I went in to take a look at her figur’n I was scott free…

“What the hell are you doing here? My boyfriend works here… he can’t see you!”

“Well I couldn’t just leave you here like that… besides I told the police you were my girlfriend to stay outta trouble…”

“You did what?? I told them I was walking alone chasing butterflies and smelling flowers…”

Now I’ve done and said some pretty dumb stuff in my time but that… who the hell is gonna believe you’re chasing butterflies and sniff’n flowers at zero dark thirty hours of the morning… in your muddy whites at that???

Yeah, that went down just like a fart in church… the cop that brought her in wanted a statement and said I would be hearing from my command… I should’a just walked out the door as soon as I got there!!!

The following week I’d just got back to the barracks from ‘A’ school and found a yellow memo on my door to make a visit to the Chief’s office… Boy-oh-Boy, I’d been in the Dog House so gaudamned many times to this point I’d already installed curtains and hard wood floors!! I figured I’d better prepare the proverbial Vaseline for my butt cause I knew what was coming next!!!

I walked into Chief’s office with my tail between my legs wondering if I was gonna get sent out to the fleet as an undesignated swabby… at this point you can feel the pucker factor start’n on…

“Son, you know what you’re in here for don’t ya!?!?”

While doing the jitterbug two-step I answered…

“Well, I think so…”

“Well then, all I’ve got to ask is… did you hit that shit?? And don’t blow smoke up my ass!!”

So I looked him in the eyes and said…

“Well Chief, I got started but hadn’t enough time to wear the tits off those tires before the floodlights were hitt’n us from all sides!!”

A few seconds what seemed an eternity went by as he stared me down… then he broke out into the biggest laughter I’d ever heard… complain’n his sides were hurting from laughing so hard…

“Seaman Swing… you got more balls than a ship’s got seamen… and that’s a gaudamned compliment!”

I just stood there and looked at him a bit puzzled as I expounded on the rest of the story…

“Son I oughta put you in for a medal… that’s funnier than watch’n a one legged cat try to bury a turd in a frozen pond!!”

Yes… this was the beginning of my nautical tandem with the Devil… part of the cooked up stuff to add to the wonder and amazement of everyday life! I suppose I was lucky the Chief recognized the humor in such things… I suspect these days, most ‘Politically Correct’ types wouldn’t have the intuitive understanding to appreciate those type of antics… the type that ranged from raunchy to infantile but never dull!! No… they’d be about as confused as a pack of nuns in a topless bar!!!





Friday, March 9, 2012

'Never Try To Outsmart A Navy Chief '

Two Navy Chiefs are getting dog drunk at the Club when suddenly one of 'em throws up all over himself....
Having thrown up all over himself, he says, "Damn, now my wife will kill me!"

The other chief says, "Don't worry. Just tuck a twenty in your breast pocket and tell your wife that someone threw up on your uniform and gave you $20.00 dollars to have it dry-cleaned."

So they stay for another couple of hours and get even drunker. Eventually they stumble out and go home and this Chief's wife starts to chew him out.

"You reek of alcohol and you've puked all over yourself! My God, you're disgusting!"

Speaking very carefully so as not to slur his words, the chief says, "Now way a mint, I can splain everthin. Ish snot wha jew think. I only had a cupla drrrinks. But thish damn Marine gat ssick on me. He had one too manee and he juss koudin hold hizz liquor. He said hes was verrry sorry an' gave me twennie bucks for the cleanin bill!

His wife looks in the breast pocket and says, "But this is forty bucks."

Oh yeah, I almos' fergot, he shhit in my pants, too!?!?!?

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

‘Sea Sickness In Technicolor’

A fella came to me today asking questions of my ‘Canoe Club’ days and wanted to know if I’d ever encountered a rogue wave??? Hell… never heard of such a damned thing!  But if I did, it would’a had to be that white water that would come over the forecastle on a few occasions… damn near made us look like some kind’a ol’ submersible!! One minute your look’n up at the sky… and the next your buried in a giant swell!!!  I’ve seen it on the flight deck of the Chucky ‘V’ too!! Noth’n like a bird farm being swallowed up by the big deep blue!!!

Then the young fella wanted to know about me gett’n Sea Sick… I was blessed in the fact I never really got Sea Sick… not in the Navy at least!!!

I had that misfortune long before I donned the ‘Crackerjack’ uniform! Yep… I learned at a tender age of twelve while toss’n my cookies over the gunnels of a sailboat into the Gulf of Mexico just outside Tampa Bay all about the feeling of your whole gaudamned body rebelling as you sense the bitter end of your intestinal track reaching for the ol’ gullet!!! 

My Pops never told me of the likes of Dramamine or the  ‘Ol’ Pussy Patch’… he just said I had to get through it and it’d eventually pass… it did… and I was better for it, kind’a like figuring out how to ride a bike… once you learn it, you never forget!!!
I suppose it inexplicably prepared me for my days as a crackerjack in the canoe club… though he’d never admit to it!!!

Once I got to my first ship, ‘The Baglady’, over the 1MC came,
“All Hands Standby for Heavy Rolls!!!”

I loved all that rock’n & roll’n!!! Walk’n up and down the passageways half the time ramping up the bulkhead like a steal bearing in an old bally’s pinball machine… hell it could be a lott’a fun!!! Imagine a wild rollercoaster ride while tear’n down the passageway riding a galaxy 1700 floor buffer… Woo-Hoo!!!

 This was just some of the nonsensical ass grabb’n and clowning around we were always up too… til’ Chief would show up!!

What the hell are you clowns up too now?? Get your asses to work and enough of the skylark’n before I have to call ‘doc’ down to pull my size ten boot outta your ass!!”

But sooner or later you’d get that new ‘booter greenhorn’ on board who’d experience some technical difficulties with his internal gyroscope sensors as his optical sensors failed to compensate for the feedback error in his internal ear… this was usually caused from focus’n too much attention on every move the ship makes!!

Next came the quasi nausea feel’n sorta drunk feeling with a green tinge to the facial skin tone…

This is where one of your shipmate decided to show some brotherly love and whip out a can of smelly tuna or some sardines and smoked oysters mixed in with a bit of cigar smoke and a really nasty cigarette ashtray… the best recommended cure for sea sickness!!!

If that wasn’t available you could always start asking what’s for chow referring to the good smell’n stuff as ‘Shit on a Shingle’… ‘Puss & Scabs’… ‘Donkey Dick and Flied Lice’… always something you can count on your shipmates for!!!

… And from there… it was all over!!! There’s no escape… you’re trapped in the middle of an endless ocean… about as green as any man could possibly get with the ol’ stomach churning… runn’n for the rails lett’n loose of the whole damned shebang!!!

A lot of good men went there… and they survived… making their way up to the ensemble conveyor to sickbay to see the voodoo shaman witch doctor for that magic pill or the pussy patch to ward off the evil sea spirits…

 I remember a fella who spent three weeks spill’n his cookies in and out of his rack! The bitter smell of the gastric mixture he left in the head was almost unbearable for all!! Poor fella’s eyes were so swollen he looked like a steamed pink pig on a skewer!!
I remember he’d spend hours hugg’n the ol’ porcelain god… people walk’n in thinking to themselves,

“Do I really wanna maneuver around this fella toss’n his cookies so I can listen to his pleading heaves as I’m straddl’n the pisser in these heavy seas???”

They eventually assigned the fella off the ship… he just couldn’t hack it no more!!! 
 Then there was OS2 Goff on the Lucky No. 7… lanky fella from Kentucky!!! He was your stereo-typical hillbilly inbred… used to talk about fornicat’n with farm animals… hoping he was joking… never really could tell!

Once we took a hike up to Knotts Berry Farm for a bit of a liberty excursion… ol’ Goff didn’t care much for the sight of the upchuck… barf’n up… technicolor yawn… blow’n chunks… or any of the other various names you might wanna call it!! And with the rare gift of having a volunteer gag reflex, I was able to make quite the mess with a strawberry shake right after he got off the spinning octopus ride!!! Needless to say ol’ Goff made quite a mess in a nearby bush!!!

Well, things didn’t fair to well on the ship either during his first underway! While we were zing’n off bulkheads climbing the overhead piping showing off our non-house broken silly ways… he was busy turn’n green and wedging himself behind AC units try’n to find some comfort from the mayhem of the pitch-n-roll!!!

About the third day out start’n up a ladder on an uproll shoot’n out the top like a cannon… ol’ Goff was standing in front of the port airlock from our berthing just ready to peel like a ripe banana! Like a clumsy son-of-a-bitch, not realizing he was there, I slammed right smack into him causing a gastric explosion that left quite the splatter of noodles & ralph’n yack nasty in the ol’ airlock!! Hell, it was the kind’a art that would have made Picasso proud!!!

 I think all the calamity caused quite a stir as several Chiefs and various other shipmates showed up for a command performance!!

I gotta tell you, I had never seen a topsider, or anybody for that matter, toss his cookies as hard as this fella!!!

Look’n back… I remember those nights parked in the crews’s mess sipp’n on a hot cup of black tarred coffee laugh’n & carry’n on… the more ridiculous the horseplay… the funnier it was!!! It was about this time the boots were the ripest for some practical shenanigans!!!



Friday, March 2, 2012

Thursday, March 1, 2012

'An ol’ Boastwains Mate walks into a bar'

An ol’ Boastwains Mate walks into a bar, notices a very large jar on the counter, and sees that it's filled to the brim with $10  bills. He guesses there must be at least ten thousand dollars in it. He approaches the bartender and asks, "What's with the money in the jar?"


"Well..., you pay $10, and if you pass three tests, you get all the money in the jar and the keys to a brand new Lexus."


The Boatswain certainly isn't going to pass this up, so he asks, "What are the three tests?"

"You gotta pay first," says the bartender, "those are the rules."


So, after thinking it over a while, the Boatswain gives the bartender $10 which he stuffs into the jar.

"Okay," says the bartender, "here's what you need to do:
 

First -  You have to drink a whole quart of tequila, in 60 seconds or less, and you can't make a face while doing it."


"Second - There's a pit bull chained in the back with a bad tooth. You have to remove that tooth with your bare hands."

"Third - There's a 90-year old lady upstairs who's never had sex. You have to take care of that problem."

... The Boatswain is stunned ...

"I know I paid my $10 - but I'm not an idiot!   I won't do it!  You'd have to be nuts to drink a quart of tequila and then do all those other things!"

"Your call," says the  bartender, "but, your money stays where it is."


As time goes on, the Boatswain has a few more drinks and finally says,
"Where's the damn tequila?!"

He grabs the bottle with both hands and drinks it as fast as he can.
Tears stream down both cheeks - but he doesn't make a face - and he drinks it in 58 seconds!
Next, he staggers out the back door where he sees the pit bull chained to a pole. Soon, the people inside the bar hear loud growling, screaming, and sounds of a terrible fight – then… nothing but silence!


Just when they think that the Boatswains Mate surely must be dead, he staggers back into the bar… clothes ripped to shreds and he's bleeding from bites and gashes all over his body.


He drunkenly says...

"Now... where's that old woman with the bad tooth?"