July 6, 2007

  • Other Camp Shitholeton pictures

    My buddy Trevor uploaded all of the AT pictures here at


    http://community.webshots.com/album/559723049gUUiKm


    I’m in several of them, just look for the Asian dude with the Chia Pet growing on top of his head.  Oh wait, thats just my LONG NASTY RESERVIST HAIR, YUT!


    ………………………………..


    I’ll post a few of the notables here that I thought were funny:


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    Classic “Hurry Up and Wait”


     


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    Randy, who sleeps like Rip Van Winkle is about to get a nice surprise when he wakes up


     


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    How we kill time even off-duty– getting high by chain-smoking in the pit.


     


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    My jail cell


     


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    This is what my garbage bag (along with almost everyone else’s) looks like on a regular weeknight if we decided not to go out in town.  When the active duty guy that was on post that night came to inspect every one of our rooms during field-day night, he told us,


    “Believe me when I said I’ve seen alot of beer in my life, but holy shit, I’ve never seen THAT much beer in my entire life before.”


     


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    About to shloop down Gunny’s funnel with some Coors Light


     


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    Funny story on how typical men will act– especially Marines:  Notice the two women in the picture, blue and red– both are just random women that showed up on the beach.  But as soon as they started bouncing volleyballs around with each other, 15 to 20 Marines immediately swooped over like a pack of hungry vultures for the kill.  Then again, I will not feel sorry for those chicks because simply showing up in bikinis in front of a mob of over 60+ drunk, sweaty, half naked, sunburnt dudes, those chickees are pretty much asking for it.

July 4, 2007

  • July 4th

    As you celebrate Independence Day this year, I want you to take in what this special holiday is really about.  The 4th of July is about fireworks and blowing fingers off of your hands.  It is about getting smashed and driving, hopefully striking another vehicle.  Maybe say, about eighty miles per hour.  It is about eating until you can hardly move, literally inhaling burger after greasy burger in your mouth.  But most of all, Independence Day is about making a bonfire with your friends, drinking too much, and then letting it spread uncontrollably through a national forest.  So when you are sitting there thinking about our forefathers this weekend, remember that this holiday is about more than just the most important day in our nation’s history.  It is a day to show as Americans, how ignorant and stupid you are.


    With that said, time for me to go watch Transformers and get fucked up at a cookout.

July 2, 2007

  • Camp Shitholeton, pt.1

    I didn’t get to take too many pictures during AT, I was either too busy, too drunk/hungover, or just didn’t care enough to take pictures of our horrid conditions.  Even in the So. Calif. environment, I didn’t really feel like playing tourist or anything– we already got plenty of camera-wielding reservists, I’ll get pictures from them later.


    We were attached two-fold again, like my deployment to Iraq:  as a smaller detachment, we were augmented to a larger unit out of Newburgh, NY, and then as reservists we were augmented into an active duty squadron out of Camp Pen at the Air Station.  As little sense as that makes, basically we were the bastard children of all bastard children– the red-headed stepchild.  To hang around the other reserve unit and active duty guys, lots of unnecessary high school drama was thrown around, but fortunately for me this time– I had a bit of rank to pull around so that me or my guys wouldn’t get in trouble.


    So far the trip was a disaster.  Piss poor planning on the Newburgh unit’s fault, and we went along for the ride.  Our C-130 to fly us from Philly to NY was nine hours late on the day we left, which has caused me to purchase several packs of Marlboro Lights.  The charter flight from NY to So Calif. was also extremely late, in the meantime they were playing fuck-fuck games with the troops– a good forshadowing of what to expect in the next two weeks.


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    I think I slept on that spot for a good several hours on the flightline waiting for that flight to come in.


    ………………………………..


     


    If anyone has been to Camp Pendleton, CA or at least heard about it– its no small base.  Look it up right now– yes you, you geographically challenged American– and look at the majority of the area between Los Angeles and San Diego.  Most of that landmass is property of the Marine Corps.  Its got air units, ground units, even boot camp, tons of area is needed for the artillery, armor, and general ground and air units.  Which means driving around base will be a big waste of time and gas.  Especially if you’re driving drunk– if you haven’t gotten pulled over for a DUI yet, you better haul ass because if you just happen to have a flat tire while stuck on the Naval Weapons Depot’s test fire range……. nice knowing ya.


    To put the size of the base into perspective– the base is divided into numbered Areas.  I lived in a crummy podunk area known as Area 41, while we worked at Area 24 at the Air Station.  At 50mph, it takes 20 minutes to get there.  From 24 to the main gate, its another 10 minutes.  From the main gate to drunken chicks at the beach– well, that’s well worth it.


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    This was the view that I had to deal with in front of my room at Area 41.  Depending on your viewpoint, it could be beautiful or depressing.  For the outdoorsman, open ranges and mountain views with hawks flying around and coyotes howling, it could be a good getaway from civilization.  Unless you’re like me, who is too attached to civilization– it is extremely depressing to be stuck in the middle of fucking nowhere.  Too far away from the booze and the babes.


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    Kind of like prison.


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    Not much to do around our spare time if you didn’t get a rental car (which I immediately reserved even before we went out there).  Just sitting around the smoke-pit and throwing just about anything at each other– frisbees, footballs, knives, feces– you know, whatever is available.


    Not only is everything so spread out, but most places on and directly off-base close extremely early– which makes me believe that there is a base order that states that any form of convenience is not permitted.  Seriously, stay there for a night and when you want that tasty Taquito at 1am in the morning– good luck.

July 1, 2007

  • Back.

    I’m back from Camp Shitholeton.  I’ll update later, but I’m really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really drunk right now.


    I think I held copy + paste a bit too long there.  And worst of all, I’m still stuck in New York.  Not that its a bad thing or what.  Except I have to actually go home in a few hours.  Will update later.


     


    ——————————


    EDIT


    I’m HOME.  Fuck I’m tired.  Tired from work, tired from a PFT, tired from traveling and flying, tired of dumb Marines, and tired of the Corps.  Tired of this hangover.  Just tired.


    Its 11:00 am and I think its very appropriate to crack open another beer.

June 22, 2007

  • Fuck this place.

    Get me the hell out of Camp Pendleton.  And southern California.  I absolutely positively no shit hate my life right now, and so does everyone else.


    But I’m a Sergeant, and people leave me alone.  Its a shame half the active duty fucks I’m dealing with right now are all but a bunch of useless dingleberries. (sorry, reservist-hating-life moment there.).  Then again, who knows– I’m about *this* close to getting busted down to Corporal or Lance for furiously clocking the shit out of any of these bags of douche that I highly dislike at the moment.  Someone’s going to get hurt.  Badly.


    But I’m still alive.  And I still hate the Corps.  And I’m drinking myself silly again for the 5th night in a row.

June 14, 2007

  • Here comes AT…

    I wish I had a major, legitimate life-or-death issue I can tackle with about how ticked off I am with my chain of command– but bitching about things happening in the military in the continental US-and-A is nothing compared to someone bitching about how much dust they got on their gear in Iraq.  But bad leaders are still bad leaders, and I still dream of burying them in the dirt when I get the chance.


    Take this for example:  We were supposed to show up at 3:30pm in the afternoon at the airport in Philadelphia and ride a commercial jet out to the Left Coast, except our OIC (officer in charge) for the detachment– not doing his job as usual– didn’t manage to get us our flight.  Yes, something he was supposed to done months ago ahead of time so shit like this wouldn’t happen.  Instead, the OIC got us to stay a night at Stewart ANGB (deployment memories…. ahh) and then fly us out to Cali in a C-130 instead….. so we take a nine hour flight in a freezing cold cramped cargo plane instead of our original chartered flight because some assface in charge decided to neglect his job.  Oh but of course he doesn’t care, he’s already on the advanced party that’s already out in California since last week, we’re on our own.  Way to go, ocifer in charge.


    To add insult to injury, some dickhead in my squadron felt the need for every single one of us to be there 8:30 in the morning to watch him pin on his Master Sergeant rank and re-enlist in a glorious dog-and-pony show of fashion.  This, being last minute and none of us live anywhere remotely close to Philadelphia (most of us live in Maryland or Virginia), means we have to wake up 5:00 in the fucking morning, fight traffic in two, maybe three major cities along the way (DC, Baltimore, Philly), just to see some cockbag that nobody likes to reassure us that he’ll still be around to make our lives less interesting than it already is.  Of course its convenient for him, he lives only 20 minutes away from base.  Most of us live more than two hours away.  Bravo, soon-to-be-Master-Asshole.


    Ok, maybe some trivial issues to many, but this is the kind of crap that I’ve been dealing with the last few years, I’m sure many in the military have the same experience already.  Self-centered career-minded pricks who think a bit too highly of themselves by hiding behind their rank, while getting no respect as a human being.  As an enlisted Marine, I have no choice but to respect their rank– but other than their rank, that’s about it.


    So don’t be surprised if I get busted down to Corporal, or Lance sometime in the next two weeks, just because I start telling these douchebags what I *REALLY* think about them.


    I’ve been biting my tongue for a very long time, and I’m all but running out of tongue left.

June 13, 2007

  • Viva la mixtape!

    My boy Ryohei out in Japan sent me a copy of a CD that he said I might be interested in.  At first I didn’t think much about it, looked like some plain looking bootlegged CD, then I actually noticed the label on it:


    You might have to click to enlarge:


    folder


    Its an actual rare mixtape from Jazzy Sport music, mixed by Grooveman Spot (DJ Kou-G).  Despite the snazzy looking cover, it actually has some very good material in it.


    For those of you who know a thing or two about underground hiphop, Jazzy Sport is an indie hiphop music phenomenon thats increasing popularity over in Japan and slowly in the United States as well in various underground culture circles.  Very cut-and-dry stuff digging into the basics of hiphop, with talented Emcees and produced by their own DJ’s– not some commercialized crap they keep repeating over and over on the radio or your local college bar.  One of the guys that I admire from their label, DJ Mitsu the Beats, has been using his style to produce beats even for some mainstream artists, if not for his group GAGLE (first song playing on top of the music player on this page).  The links to their myspace pages do them no justice, try downloading if you get a chance.  Their styles are mostly hiphop, jazz, and soul– three of my favorite music genres.


    If none of this interests you, I did include the National Anthem of Kazakhstan in the music player above.  You know….


    “Kazakhstan, greatest country in the world, all other countries are run by little girls.
    Kazakshtan number one exporter of potassium, all other countries have inferior potassium….”


    …………………………………………………….


    In an unrelated event, I’ll be going on my two-week paid vacation courtesy of Uncle Sam to Camp Pendleton, CA this friday, and won’t be back until July 1st or 2nd.  Updates will be less frequent, and probably be incoheren, possibly due to the fact that I will be extremely hammered for the course of two weeks.


    Its not peer pressure anymore when it sadly becomes a social norm among Marines on det to get tanked every chance they get.  Am I complaining?  No way.


    So if anyone wants to hook me up with suggestions on anywhere in the San Diego area (aside from the Gaslamp district, which I’m going anyway) to go, please let me know.  Or if anyone is willing to hook me up with your hot ex girlfriend or your desperate sister (or both) for two weeks, that’s fine with me too.

June 11, 2007

  • Being at the Filipino festival in Towson yesterday, I felt as if I’m finally reconnecting with my people and my culture, which lately hasn’t been a common practice for me.  Eating boatloads of adobo chicken, watching people sing karaoke, and pointing at objects with my lips, I felt as if I’m truly a Filipino again.  This festival unfortunately only happens once a year, and in the area where I live, forgetting my roots is as easy as sneezing.  Its too bad that only once a year, even in the face of a terrible hangover, am I able to celebrate my cultural roots and the proud traditions of my people in such wonderous fashion.


    Wait a fucking second…..  I’m not even Filipino.  Well, there goes any credibility I have for just about anything I say.  At least the food was worth it.


     


     


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    You can’t really see it, but there’s someone singing karaoke on stage.  Look, I don’t make up stereotypes ok?  I just observe them.


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    CJ, and an extremely hungover Laura


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    King Douchemaster the XIV


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    Some dude was MCing freestyle on stage– the funny thing was in the middle of it, he sneezed and everyone was laughing at him.  I had to refrain from throwing a piece of chicken at him just for shits and giggles.


     


    The funny thing about this is, its probably my first time since high school to attend anything that has to do with Asian culture.  And no, getting wasted in every bar, lounge, and club in Taipei for two months and getting wasted in Tokyo during the World Cup games back in 2002 doesn’t count for any culture points.  That was just plain retarded and a gi-normous waste of money.


    Was it worth it though?  You bet your sweet lil’ tush it was.


    At least, it was before I saw my credit card bill.

  • 450.

    450 comments, thank you very much.  If I had this kind of responsive treatment every time I wait in line at the bank or try and get something done at the DMV, life would just be cheesecake.  Thank you all for your time.


    I’m doing my best to respond to every one of you, but if I missed your page somehow by accident, I’m sorry about that.  I enjoyed most of the comments, even the negative ones or the ones that outright attacked me– some of them were just ridiculous.  But among the arguable comments that any of you have posted, if I actually replied back to you (there’s quite a bit of you guys), it means that you’ve come across to me as a very intelligent person with valid points that was worth debating with, and even if I sounded negative or highly defensive (which I am), I enjoyed every moment of it and encourage you to keep asking questions if you are genuinely interested in what I have to say out of educational purposes– as long as you tone down the accusations.  I get a bit defensive when fingers are pointed blindly, I make judgements too about others and never said I wasn’t an ignorant person myself.  Iraq just happens to be a subject that I know quite a bit about, simply because I was there and part of it.  And I can truthfully tell you this much– CNN, FOX, or whatever major media outlet are full of shit.  Don’t believe everything you hear on the news, or at least try to find out more about something from multiple sources before making your final decision about a subject– the media only shows you one angle, its up to you to find out the other angles.


    Like I said before, whatever we believed in before joining the military doesn’t matter anymore when we had our taste of war.  We don’t fight for politics.  We don’t fight for religion.  We surely don’t fight because we feel the need to murder people (those people get drummed out of the military real quick, in fact); and we surely don’t give a shit what the nutjobs in Washington are doing or any of their silly agendas.  Its all about your buddies next to you, and bringing them home so they can see their families again.  Thats what we fight for, and thats the right thing to do.


    Again, THANK YOU ALL.  And keep praying for the safety of our troops, and the innocent people that they are protecting overseas.  They all deserve our prayers.  They all deserve much more.

June 8, 2007

  • Do me a favor…

    EDIT


    Before you read on, I would like to apologize for sounding a bit negative in my direction and clarify any accusations.  First of all, I have no problems with asking a servicemember questions out of curiosity on what happened over there, just remember to be tactful and use discretion when bringing up a subject that a combat veteran may not want to talk about.  But I’m all for asking them questions out of educational purposes and geniune care.  In fact, I think if the American people wants the war to end, the little things they can do could help out.  I mean ask questions from the servicemembers, take care of the physically and emotionally wounded when they come home, and voice your opinions to the public based on the first-hand facts acquired from the people that were Over There.  Its the people who blindly point their accusatory fingers at us and are quick to pass judgemnt over someone that has been out in the great Sandbox, or ask their questions in the form of cynical tones and general disdain without getting their facts straight, thats what my post is directed towards.


    But just remember– as long as mankind exists, war will never stop.  Some of us are led to believe that we somehow live in a utopian society where mankind is better and better as we evolve.  But as long as human emotions still exist– hate, fear, greed, etc….. there will always be war, and someone’s gotta fight in it.  Someone’s father, brother, cousin, friend, or child will always be fighting.  If you think things can simply be changed by simply putting our guns down and just walking away, you are way too detached from reality– thats not how human beings work.


    War will never change, and it hasn’t changed for the last few millenia of recorded history.  There will always be someone fighting because he believes its the right thing to do to protect the ones that he or she loves, and there will be ones that will have to pay the ultimate sacrifice so the people that they love can continue to live freely.


    …………………………………………………………………….


    Stop asking people like me how I feel about the war in Iraq, why I even chose to fight in the war, and worst of all, if I have killed anyone before.  No shit, I’ve had a few people ask me that.  Especially being a Marine, people automatically assume I’ve capped a few hoods left and right before during my tenure in the great Sandbox.  Don’t ask a combat vet these types of questions, you’ll just get yourself into trouble.  I get these weird questions asked from college students– fairly understandable, most of them are below average intelligence while as an undergrad, but when full-grown adults come up and ask me a retarded question, I get annoyed real quick.  The truth is, you’ll never get a straight answer.


    But I’ll tell you what war and combat is like.  War is a bunch of scared kids taking pot shots at each other because some other guy says it’s the right thing to do.  War is collective insanity.  It can be justified by logic, but it’s still a chaotic, collective insanity.  Sometimes, once you start it, you can’t stop it– kind of like a cheap tagline for a commercial (Mentos FRESH!).  Maybe you even start to like it– the rush of temple throbbing, “holy shit that was close” adrenaline rush that is almost like a drug.


    There are most definitely sadists, thugs, and war junkies in the current military.  Even today, lowering recruiting standards doesn’t help the situation, seems like they’ll take anyone these days.  Most servicemembers in Iraq however, are decent people thrown into an insane situation.  Come on, when shit like that comes up, the only option left is to generally react by acting insane.  ”Oh there’s no need to do that kind of stuff or go on rampages”.  Bullshit.  It’s easy for you to say at home watching TV, wondering why wartime ”atrocities” committed by young soldiers and Marines even happen in the first place.  You weren’t there, you would never know what its like when that first bullet goes by your head or your fellow Marine next to you just got hit, morality goes straight out the window.  It’s the law of the jungle time.  All bets are in, and winner takes all.  Now show me your hand or shut up and fold your cards and deal the next round already.  And no bull, you better know how to read your opponent’s poker face.


    And seriously, try not to ask a veteran if he’s ever had to kill, and why he even agreed to take part in the killing of others.  Like I said, its easy for you to form your own opinions behind the safety of your own home, when you’ve never had to shoot a man to protect the life of yourself and your buddy right next to you.  And its not like we enjoy killing others– for your average combat vet, not a day goes by that he doesn’t have nightmares about what has happened over there– the killing of the enemy, and the subsequent deaths of fellow comrades.  The war vet has to live with this for the rest of his life, so quit giving him shit about it already.


    So the next time you think you’re pissed off about the war in Iraq, think of what your ground-pounding trooper overseas that’s actually getting shot and mortared feels.  And if you think you’re having the worst day of your life, think about how the war vet must have felt when he first pulled the trigger that will impact his mind, body, and soul for the rest of his life.  Think of how guilty he must feel for doing some horrible things that he will never tell you about, and how guilty he must feel just because he came back home alive and his best friends never did.  We’re still human fucking beings.  At least, we hope we still are.


    Until you take up arms to fight, you’ll never understand why we do it.  No, you’ll never understand until you’re one of us.  But if you do someday, you’ll come to realize that you’re not fighting for politics or religion, or anything “for the greater good”– fuck that shit.  It doesn’t matter if we believe in the war or not, “believing in the war” is the last thing we’re worried about.  Its alot simpler than that…. to most people, it will sound ridiculous.  To us however, it makes perfect sense…


    Its all about the men you’re fighting with beside you.  That’s all it is, and thats all that matters.  It really makes sense, because nothing else does in war.  That is why we fight.


    It is our job to continue to do horrible acts in the name of our God and our Country, both that we have sworn to defend– or whatever reason we give ourselves.  But at the same time, it is up to America’s citizens, not her soldiers, to interpret the morality of our actions in Iraq.


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