Warped Sense of Humor

Got this from the Drunken Sailor Facebook Page... Warped sense of humor I know!

'The Helm'

Now that's one hell of a steering wheel... I want one!!!

'The Welcome Home'

'Mail Call'

Every single rapscallion and scalawag alike who ever sailed the seven seas can hark back to times a blaring over the 1MC…

“Mail Call… all Mail Petty Officers to the Ship’s Post Office… now Mail Call!”

… As it was, on long cruises crashing through the waves, mail call was probably the most anticipated event underway!! Perfumed letters with lipstick sealed envelopes & crotch-cutouts from young Suzy’s panties… these were the kind’a things that kept us going on our long journeys to faraway places!!!

Yep… I absolutely loved them handwritten letters! Nothing was better than a letter from home… sometimes with glossy photos of scantily clad girlfriends and all…

 "What in God’s Green Earth would a pretty young thing like that see in an ugly son-of-a-bitch like you?"

We’d see unclaimed parcels in the mailbag like Victoria Secret & Fredericks of Hollywood catalogs…  Cherry Blossoms Mail Order Bride Magazines…  Swiss Penis Pumps…  'How To' Books on finding a woman's 'G' Spot… Blow up Dolls with vibrating vaginas… Blow up Sheep with vibrating… WHAT the HELL!! Just when you thought you’d seen it all there was always something!!!

Naturally… everyone looked forward to the ol’ mail call! As soon as it arrived on deck it went straight to the Post Office to be distributed likewise boosting morale with a roar heard throughout the decks…

“Okay… front and center when your name is called!”

“Seaman Jones… You got a letter here from Texas… You from Texas?”

“Yeah… what of it?”

“You know what they say, only steers and queers come from Texas!”

 “Hey, this one’s for Reed… Hey Reed, I didn’t know you were from Tennessee… What does a thirteen-year-old girl from Tennessee say after sex? …Git offa me, cuzzin Jed, you're a crush’n my cigarettes!”

“Hey, Santelli… why you laugh’n?!?  If Jesus were born today he couldn’t be born in New York!”

“Why’s that?”

“Cause there’s no way to find three wise men…  or a virgin in your whole gauddamn state… Yoooow!”

Hahahaha…

“Yo… damn Johnson! What’s up with the odiferous perfume panty incense in this letter… address says she lives on ‘Fanny Lane’… man, get that shit outta here?”

“Hey man… my girl just broke up with me!”

“Well look at it this way… Having guys buy her drinks at the EM Club won’t make her feel guilty any longer!”

 Hahahaha…

“Hey man don’t feel bad… the last letter I got from my wife was addressed from Divorce Court!... That's all she wrote!"”

“Looks like Goff got twenty more mail order letters from the PI… how many wedding proposals does that make… twenty… thirty?!?”

And so it was 'til the final parcel was emptied from that ratty ol’ canvas bag and everyone got the welcoming scoop from back home that pegged their morale meters until the next mail call! Mail was the tether that kept us connected to the real world back home while living in a surreal vacuum of underway insanity!!!

And to those Navy Ships, the mail was always addressed to the Fleet Post Office (FPO) address USS Umpty Squat with the service member’s social security number right on the front of the envelope! But somewhere along the line, the ol’ Department of Defense realized what a ‘Kabuki Goat Fuck’ that turned out to be with the introduction of identity theft and canceled that part of the program!!

Some of the addressees were pretty gauddamned hilarious…

IC2 Balls

SN:555-55-5555

Ops Dept / OI Div
FPO/AP 96698-2031

  or …

Ensign Moe Lester

SN:515-55-5151
Weps Dept / OF Div
FPO/AP 96698-2031

 … or …

 Seaman Stain

SN:551-15-1515

Deck Dept / 1^st Div

FPO/AP 96698-2031

Barry McCockiner …  Mike Okhurtz… Jack Mehoff…   Justin Syder… etc… etc…

You get the picture!!!

And then there were the care packages! When you’re feeling isolated and the monotony is gett’n rather challenging… sometimes a good ol’ gift wrapped care package just for you is the secret combination to the world that was left behind!!

Kind of like the package I’d gotten on Westpac from dear ol’ Dad! It was postmarked Auburndale, Florida, and had very nice packaging!! Dad, please let me know what them cookies were made of and their history because they belonged in a museum!! Can't help wondering if they were mistaken for the USS Constitution on its maiden voyage… somehow me Pappy dug’m up from somewhere in the backyard!! Whatever the case may be… THANK YOU for the thought anyway…  rest assured we could use them as anchors dumping trash over the side late at night!!!

But like always… the futures gotta put a wrench in the gears… a kink in the hose if you would! Some knucklehead came up with the idea of the twidgety widget of a computer thingamajig and voila… born was the instant e’mail!! Now this generation is into Xbox… I-umpty squats… & expounding endlessly on some mindless crap every fifteen minutes on the damned computer from ten thousand miles away like he’d never left home!!

That brings up a question… and the question is before the all-mighty e-mail took away our mail call what kept us from snail mail’n classified information to our loved ones… comsec type of stuff?!? Well, we used to have certain Chiefs & Officers who randomly went through our letters before we sent them out to prevent that kind’a thing… Sometimes we’d purposely delay sending out mail just to deny the enemy!! Now the computer looks for certain phrases or words… hell who knows maybe Comsec is being broken all the gauddamned time and we’re just to stupid to know better!!!

AAAH Hell… much of what we held dear is now all gone… along with our waistlines… hair… virility… just a few brain cells keep’n us going and reminding us of the things the younger generation could give two shits about!! But I’ll take my snail mail any day!! It meant so much more… no matter how much you push the envelope, it’ll still be stationery!!!

Yep… mail was what kept us going… That’s my story and I’m stick’n to it!!!

ISOLATED DUTY

A recently retired Chief had just spent a year unaccompanied in Adek, Alaska. The first night home, he told his wife he had something to show her.

"I've mastered the art of mind over matter. Just watch this!"

And with that he dropped his trousers and shorts and stood before her in his altogether.

"Dick, ten-HUT!"

And with that, his dick sprang to full erection.

"Dick, at EASE!"

And his dick deflated again.

"That was amazing!"

…said his wife...

"Can I bring over our neighbor to show her?"

The guy responded that he didn't mind at all, since he was proud of his accomplishment. So his wife brought back a delicious looking woman.

"Dick, ten-HUT!"

And his penis sprang up.

"Dick, at EASE!"

Nothing.

"Dick, at EASE!"

Still nothing.

"For the last time, Dick -- at EASE!"

Frustratingly enough, nothing happened. Embarrassed, he ran off to the bathroom. Worried, his wife ran after and found that he was vigorously masturbating.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm giving this guy a dishonorable discharge!"

‘Flesh Peddl’n Job Jocky’n Detailers’

I was just shuffling through some ancient worn out crusty ‘Canoe Club’ paraphernalia the other day and happened across an old Navy LINk Magazine… and as I reflected on how the hell this issue didn’t get donated to Davey Jones Locker it occurred to me just how truly astonishing what oxidized… dusty… cobweb covered details you can dredge up years after the fact. The consensus of the folks who phoned their detailer and disputed or attempted to clarify the great need for a specific shore duty billet or home port! You remember the old LINK Magazine?!?

“Sea Tours available for everyone… contact your detailer for more information!”

“Yeah... I think I want to stay in this ol’ Canoe Club… advance my career… serve the needs of the Navy, and be in an exciting and demanding billet!”

Haha… and how many times did that work out for ya?!? I guess I shouldn’t complain… I got suckered, duped and finagled three or four times!! They don’t call’em ‘flesh peddlers’ for nothing… trust me I was a Recruiter once! Same game… different name!!

“We give more than just lip service to our people!”

Yes… I’ve danced the Devil’s fandango a few times too many… no exception there!!!

And as the ol’ adage goes…

“Like Navy Recruiters… Navy Detailers Lie!”

…at least that’s the agreed upon testimonial of many a ‘Crackerjack’ who’d have to deal with such land lubb’n bottom feeders!!!

Yep… I’ve been through the ol’ gambit with these fellas… always about as crooked as a barrel of fish hooks! I’ve been in one of them situations when the detailer was supposed to be call’n you back only to find out he went on some damned vacation… hell I didn’t know you could accumulate so much damned leave!?! Then when he gets back to ya…

“There’s only two places you can go… USS Umpty Squat or Navy Recruiting in Tim Buk Too, OOkamahooga via the Boon County Railroad!”  

 Then you find out your happy ass has got to extend for two more years to get them there orders! Are you shitt’n me?!? Yep… it’s about the ‘needs of the Navy’… and if you hadn’t got the run around some time in your career then you ain’t doin it right!!!

Those detailers were more than happy to fill your ears full of ‘Needs of the Navy’ good idear fuck me through the drive through horse shit… then seem dumbfounded  you ain’t happier than a bus full of retarded kids pull’n into a Chucky Cheese parking lot!!!

 “There really isn't any such thing as a bad set of orders. There are only different kinds of great orders!"

Every gauddamned time I called that son-of-a-bitch it severely aggravated that muscle in my nogg’n they call a brain… with all the extra family separation added to your next three tours of deployment or shore duty that ain’t really shore duty… if you know what I mean!!!

So I took the advice of the Chief…

“Sailors belong on ships and ships belong at sea!”

… and I forwent shore duty for the first twelve years of my career! Until one day when the detailer called and said…

“Petty Officer Swing… due to the critical needs of the Navy you have three choices… Recruiting… Boot Camp Company Commander… and Recruiting!”

“Wait a minute… can’t I just extend onboard my ship?”

“Nope… you’ve already extended past your shelf life!”

Yeah, I was starting to wonder about this so called critical needs of the Navy bull shit! So I asked the Chief if there were any career incentive options on the table and what do I gotta do to get out of this horseshit!! He says in no uncertain terms…  

“Listen Shipmate… you don't have to suck a dick to make chief, but sometimes you gotta put it in your mouth!"

That was about as handy as a back pocket on a t-shirt!

“So I gotta go out on the town and metaphorically put a bunch’a punk ass dicks in my mouth to gett’m to join the Navy?”

“That’s about the jest of it Shippy!”

And so there it was… and that’s how I landed in the middle of the gauddamned center of nowhere USA counting how many Okies from Muskogee I could put on the happy train to Great Mistakes… and to all those Company Commanders up there… you can thank me later!!!

I’ll bet that sorry son-of-a-bitch of a detailer was sitt’n there in his Memphis office cubicle flick’n bugars in the air just smiling his happy ass away!!!

So after three long years on the bag making goal & getting selected, tested & initiated into the brotherhood of fouled anchors while grinding me gears to do it… I was finally ready to go back to sea! I gotta tell you… It couldn’t of happened a day sooner… and conveniently for me I had a Master Chief buddy who hooked me up with the detailer gett’n me orders back to my wife’s home state so she could spend time with her ailing family!! I thought everything was going great!! That was until I reached my destination at the Precommissioning Detachment for PCU MOMSEN out of San Diego! Apparently I was supposed to show up unaccompanied sending my wife up to Washington State but that wasn’t the deal we had initially worked out!!

After several phone calls with the Command Master Chief on my end and the detailer on the other… the detailer feeds the Master Chief a bullshit story that didn’t add up with the paper my orders were written on! I just love it when some pansy ass son-of-a-bitch tries to invalidate your career so easily… needless to say I was steam’n hotter than a festered nipple in a wool bra!!!

“Petty Officer Umpty Squat… bet you didn’t even know I’m standing right here with the Master Chief listening to you lie your ass off!?!”

“Oh sorry Chief… I didn’t’ realize!”

“Petty Officer Umpty Squat… you’ve got a bad brains-to-balls ratio… and you need to pull your head outta your ass and figure this out!” 

“Well Chief… and Master Chief… I’ll have to figure this out…”

“If you’re fuck’n with me, I'll be on you like a pack of dogs on a three-legged cat!"

… and with that I ended up staying a little longer in San Diego than I originally anticipated but at least I didn’t have to ship my wife and kids cross country overnight express!!!

But it all didn’t matter much in the end… after a third of the Chiefs Mess got fired… half a dozen ‘PC’ over the top Mast cases… even watched a whole gauddamned division go to Mast over some unvalidated sexual harrassment scheme with a bit of rape & drugs in the mix… and an attempted suicide by my relief which almost kept me from leaving that dreaded shit hole… Yeah, I was one bitter pill and couldn’t wait to leave that mess!! No ‘Crackerjack’ alive ever looked forward to leaving a ship as bad as I was… ‘Like a young school boy waiting to see his first set of boobies!! The anticipation was a burning hell!!

Yes… I was Gauddamned Bitter from such an exasperating tour and after years of playing this gamble of a game, I couldn’t wait to put on my Indian feather headdress…  brown sueded chicken bone vest... drink from the holy sanctified nautical grail... piss in the consecrated fire & take a hit off the prodigious pipe of knowledge and perceptual fortitude so I could once again rub shoulders with those Memphis sharks they call Detailers and get me that ‘Good Deal’ that fits with the needs of the Navy while still always knowing that no ‘Good Deal’ goes unpunished!!!

So I did my due diligence and knowing that loyalty only seems to have a one way street I’d been looking for orders near my current home port… no sense in try’n to move up in the pecking order as I’d already burned too many bridges so I found a comfy choice of orders at the local Brig! After getting released from my detailer and an e’mail here and there it was just a matter of waiting… and waiting… and waiting… and waiting!! Finally after two months I’d given up hope on such an endeavor and asked to be handed over to the Equal Opportunity Detailer so I could go back to sea on the Stink’n Link’n as their possible CMEO as such a shitty billet had no takers!!

“I’d love to have you Chief Swing but you’re currently assigned orders to the Naval Brig in Bangor and you’d have to get released from that detailer to get accepted for these orders!”

And that’s how I found out the dickhead cut me orders for the Brig already… I’d been waiting for gauddamned ever only to assume I ain’t gett’n serviced!!! WTF Over!! Seriously, he couldn't have called and given me a reach around or something?!?

But hell… I can’t complain, I retired from the Brig and it really wasn’t all that bad… considering you deal with prisoners with bad attitudes every day of the week anyway!!!

But it just goes to show…  I’d bet the most desirable duty never makes its way to the majority of us ‘Crackerjacks’… If you’d been around  long enough you’d probably figured out by now… the ‘good stuff’ is always reserved for those who have that inside handjob with the detailers… anything else is like pissing in the tide!!!

So the next time your detailer tells you one thing in person and you get the complete opposite… or your orders were advertised as primo-good shit but ended up being a shit hole… ask that son-of-a-bitch for a reach around and a kiss as he’s bending you over!!!

Yes… I’ve heard there’s a special place in hell for those Navy Detailers, but I think differently… And in my best bud light commercial voice… To all you flesh pedaling job jockeys in Memphis who never fail to dissappoint…

“Jesus Loves You… but to everyone else… You’re an Asshole!”

Photography work from Britt Dietz!!!

 

Absolutely awesome work from...  www.dietzdolls.com