On November 10, 1775, a Corps of Marines was created by a resolution of the Continental Congress. Since that date, many thousand men have borne the name Marine. In memory of them, it is fitting that we who are Marines should commemorate the Birthday of our Corps by calling to mind the glories of its long and illustrious history.

The record of our Corps is one which will bear comparison with that of the most famous military organizations in the world’s history. During 90 of the 146 years of it’s existence the Marine Corps has been in action against the nations foes. From the battle of Trenton to the Argonne. Marines have won foremost honors in war, and in the long eras of tranquility at home. Generation after generation of Marines have grown gray in war in both hemispheres and in every corner of the seven seas that our country and its citizens might enjoy peace and security.

In every battle and skirmish since the birth of our Corps Marines have acquitted themselves with the greatest distinction, winning new honors on each occasion until the term Marine has come to signify all that is highest in military efficiency and soldierly virtue.

This high name of distinction and soldierly repute we who are Marines today have received from those who preceded us in the Corps. With it we also received from them the eternal spirit which has animated our Corps from generation to generation and has been the distinguishing mark of the Marines in every age. So long as that spirit continues to flourish Marines will be found equal to every emergency in the future as they have been in the past, and the men of our nation will regard us as worthy successors to the long line of illustrious men who have served as “Soldiers of the Sea” since the founding of the Corps.

–Lt. Gen. John A. Lejeune

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Today we take a look back at another year of Marine Corps history with great joy and sorrow. Right now there are Marines all over the world in “…every climb and place…” celebrating our 232nd birthday. Many of them are in combat zones patrolling cities, guarding posts and aiding people in their most dire hour with medical aid, food and water. We take this day to recall those who have given their lives to defend what so many take for granted, freedom.

Remember our traditions, our Corps values and most of all ONCE A MARINE, ALWAYS A MARINE!

Now lets honor our Marines and get piss drunk at your birthday ball, drink every last drop of the open bar dry, and sleep with your buddy’s date at the end of the night.

Steelers beat Ravens 38-7 loss…. ugh.  Just ugh.  I think playing with my genitals would have been more fun than watching my team get creamed.

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On a semi-related note, I’ve noticed one thing out of people who play sports.  According to a study by the National Science foundation or something like that, American recreational preferences are as follows:

1. The sport of choice for the unemployed or incarcerated people is basketball.
2. The sport of choice for maintenance level employees is bowling.
3. The sport of choice for blue-collar workers and military personnel is football.
4. The sport of choice for supervisors is baseball.
5. The sport of choice for middle-management is tennis.
6. The sport of choice of upper level management, corporate officers and executives is golf.

Conclusion:  The higher you rise in the corporate structure, the smaller your balls become.

I think the most unoriginal costume of all time would simply be wearing your work clothes to a Halloween party.  Unless you tell them that you “borrowed” it from your “friend”, then you can get away with it.  Kind of like your defense when you “borrowed” that gun from your uncle before you shot your next door neighbor that you never liked.  In my case, I won the award for most unoriginal costume– yet everyone still liked it.  Only because its funny when they ask you something like:

Girl:  Wow that costume looks like the real thing!
Me:  Thats because it IS.

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Of course, then you have girls who have every excuse to dress up as a ravishing dirty prostitute and add a “naughty” or “sexy” in front of their professions.  ‘Naughty’ librarian.  ‘Sexy’ Janitor.  ‘Naughty’ Gynecologist.  ‘Sexy’ Crack Addict.  We get the point; and to be honest, I like it.  May not be as original as it used to be, but its definately still a fan favorite from all the horny men buzzing over the costumed vixens like a bunch of vultures.

Pictures of Halloween on Facebook.

Please take note of the girl wearing the Dominatrix outfit.  That is my high school senior prom date from six years ago that was at the same party….. of course I didn’t realize it until I got home and checked out the pictures.  I asked her the next day and she couldn’t recognize me either, possibly because I gained 50 lbs, lost the embarrasing mullet, pocket protector, and the permanent fist buried in my face that belongs to the school bully.

But the point is, just when I thought that girl couldn’t get any hotter than before, I am surprised once again….  In my pants.  Did I say that out loud?  Why yes sir I have.

Have I turned into a Facebook whore lately?  Why yes sir I have.

Have I turned retarded?  Why yes sir I have.

We took a bird up last drill and decided to unload a few rounds.  I haven’t shot a .50cal since Iraq, brings back some memories.  So yes, this is what happens when you get a bunch of rockstar wannabes no older than the age of 25 to play with loud and heavy things that could seriously make your day go bad.

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Inside of the bird.  Pretty roomy.

Look, its Blackout from Transformers!

Taking off from the ‘Grove, my head in the way with a mean looking tailgun.

Six Flags Jersey style

Me at the tail ramp.  Yes, that is all ocean outside.

Me on the tailgun.  I wonder how many deer I hit.

I hope there weren’t any people wandering around lost in those woods.

Travis on the crew side gun

Dildohead here jammed this fucker at least four times in a span of 5 minutes.

Apparently Jersey has REALLY blue lakes.

This is what happens to the side of an aircraft when a stray ammo can flies out of the bird at 90 knots.

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My only secret wish is one day to steal a .50cal gun out of the armory with two boxes of ammo, and somehow mount it on top of my car.  We’ll see who’s going to be a hero and cut me off during afternoon traffic.  Go ahead, make my day.

I hate it when kids (or even full grown adults) say that they they wish they were in the military so they can flaunt their armchair bravado.  Blowing people up in Halo 3 is one thing, but to really strap on 50 lbs of gear and pick up a rifle and step into a real combat environment, I doubt it.  “Ohh, I should have joined the military, I would love to go over there and blow shit up and kill some insurgents too!”

Bullshit.  But no, I really want to see you do that though.  And you’ll be the first chump that runs to the corner, shit your pants, and cry like a bitch once that first explosion goes off.  Just shut the hell up, seriously.

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And my internet is pissing me off.  I want to call Comcast and have them send a service guy over to my house just so I can stomp the shit out of him.

I was in line at Five Guys burgers for lunch today and there was an Air National Guard pilot in front of me in line wearing his flight suit.  I got a quick glimpse at his flight badge, where his name was ‘Morgan’, with the rank of Captain.

Call me silly, but I wouldn’t trust a man named Captain Morgan near a multi-million dollar piece of aircraft.  Cool name though.

Ever since the beginning of the semester, every once in a while I get approached by different people on campus that somehow know me from somewhere.  In most cases, they get the wrong guy, followed by stating that I looked like someone.  Its been going on for weeks now.  For example, today I had two girls come up to me asking me that I looked familiar and if I was in so-and-so’s class.  I said ‘no’ and they go, “sorry, you looked exactly like some guy in my class last semester”.  Another asked me if my name was Frank, and then, “sorry, you looked exactly like this guy Frank I met somewhere.”

So “Frank”, whoever you are that is going around impersonating my dashing good looks and sexual semblance, I will find you and I will surgically sterilize your reproductive organs.  The only people I allow to be sexier than myself is another woman, and sometimes I’m not even that generous.

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If you haven’t already, find me on Facebook under ‘Chris Feng’ and let me know who you are too on xanga if I know you solely through this legendary contraption.

Now, off to conduct expeditionary warfare doctrines against my bio notes, by refusing to study and watching TV instead.

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EDIT

It has been brought to my attention that there are over 50 different Chris Fengs on Facebook, which has pronounced my stolen identity even further.  Thus, if you’re going to look me up, it might help if you know the exact city I live in when searching for my ugly mug.  Hint- I have it listed on my xanga page somewhere.

Like, right there ————->

I got a follow-up appointment at the VA for more counseling later.  Wasn’t too bad the first time.  Had some dude as my counselor, and fortunately he is a ‘Nam vet, so he knows exactly what people like me are going through.

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School is getting a bit busy on me these days, I honestly don’t have time for much anymore.  I did however, get my ass beat substantially by my instructors yesterday at Krav Maga.  However, I have passed the test and moved from “Genital Wart” (level 1) to “Manbitch” (lvl 2) in my studies.

I find myself using Facebook more than anything these days.  If you want, look me up under ‘Chris Feng’ and add me.

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EDIT

If I know you solely thru this legendary contraption known as “Xanga”, send me a message on Facebook so I don’t go “huh? who’s this shit-sniffing oddball?” when the friend request pops up.  Thanks.

My appointment is tomorrow morning, not sure what to expect but it seems like I probably shouldn’t show up smelling like cheap whiskey.

I’ve also decided to disarm myself partially.  I’ve moved the Sig into my trunk where it is not readily accessible while I am driving.  However, I still have a gun range membership that I would rather continue to utilize (since I paid a whole years worth already), so I’m not going to disarm myself completely.  I know gun control to a certain extent, but when I fall back into “combat mode”– thats a whole different ballgame, and the other player is going down for good.

Speaking of which, “combat mode” has nothing to do with rage.  Any servicemember who’s been out there can tell you that much, its just a survival mechanism.  You’re used to handling certain dangerous situations in this particular manner, where you were drilled into your head to trust your instincts to react for you– you lock and load and start scanning for targets.  Locate, close in, and neutralize the target and continue with the mission.  Perfectly normal in a combat situation, but not at home understandably.  Which is what PTSD is all about– things that you do in the theater of operations that is considered normal can get you in some serious trouble back home.  You get thrown into an insane situation and then you’re expected to come home and act “normal” again.  Its a lot harder than it sounds.  A LOT harder.

“Rage” is when someone reacts in a way that is completely irrational.  When a truck tries to run me off the road, I’m not thinking of just “what the fuck is this crazy driver doing?!”, especially not when he comes back for a second and third time to mash up my car and boxing me into the shoulder lane.  When you try to kill someone just because they cut you off at the light, that’s rage.  And when the person is flipping me the bird the entire time and screaming obscenities out the window at me while trying to run me off the road, I’m pretty sure that could be defined as rage.

I reacted in a way that my mind percieved it as a serious threat to my life and the lives of others around me, and initially chose to defend myself in the only fashion that I am used to when my life is threatened– neutralize the threat.  Permanently, so they don’t come back and get you again.  Thats not rage…… that’s self defense, although a bit extreme version of it.

Had I chose to pull the trigger though, that could land me in some serious legal issues with the authorities.  I had to choose another alternative, which was to phone the police and let them handle it.  And I’m glad I snapped out of “combat mode” quick enough to find a safer, more legally-friendly alternative.

I made a protected post that details what REALLY happened on the road yesterday, and why I refuse to publicly announce my own problems to the world.  Message me if you’re interested in hearing what I have to say if you can’t see it.