Monday, December 20, 2010

Korea

I am constantly reminded that if I even come close to believing I know what's going on, disaster of some degree is imminent. I bundle myself in a quilt of confusion, sewn together patches of normality and nonsense. I am thus comforted in knowing that I don't know.

Weather is great here, not that I am officially here. One day I will actually be where I am.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

pic unrelated

It's ridiculous, and we all know it, the variations in the relative speed of time.
 My memory is unreliable; and when I try to keep track of the events of my life, to supplement my malfunctioning brain, I'm always thwarted. There's the two journals back home that didn't make it with me here to Korea; and then, there's the new one I got that somehow got covered in detergent.

I guess I'll just spill it out here like the self-serving attention seeker I am. Whatever.

In any case, East Asia is my current concern. Women are a nagging thorn in the back of my mind.

And I never got to wear a linen sport coat this summer. So disappointed.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Fighting friggin Irish

in my company's mission to produce the world's greatest leaders, they have procured the most talented, experienced, and battle-hardened instructors in existence (still waiting for the time-machine to come on-line).


This one in particular is a 70+ year old Irishmen. Let that sink in. Their ancestors wer murdered, displaced, and their homelands turned into golf courses. Then their food crop turned to waste. They come to America and fight in every war America has fought. This man fought in Vietnam, watched saw his buddy take a bullet to the head coming into a landing zone in the battle portrayed in We Were Soldiers. Normally, battalions don't take on a Division. 4 to 1 odds in somebody else's backyard isn't on my wishlist.


He just lit up a Pall Mall and did his thing.


They dug up this fossil to teach us about leadership; how to take care of our soldiers, to bloody our hands in life, and to take care of ourselves. Hard to to take of your someone else's sons and daughters when you can't take of yourself.


This man's lady ,who heplans on taking to the beach next summer for their 50th wedding anniversary, finally got him down to 3 packs of cigarettes a day. He's been smoking longer than he's been married.


This guy serious'd up his sons when hardline drugs started hitting the streets in the 70's and 80's. He made each of his sons dig a 6 ft grave in the backyard (a metric fuck-ton of digging). "I'll shoot you and bury you my bloody self if ya bring any o' them damn drugs home for disgracing the family."


The 3 sons turned out to be: a physicist/engineer, a professional bull-rider, and an Army Ranger. Fuck.


"Irish car bomb? We just call it a bomb. But I don't need any beer to drink my whiskey. And Guinness is drank at room temperature. Cold beer is for sissy-babies."


And as he began this class with a 5 minute long poem on the hellfire and brimstone of THE Red White and Blue, I shat out any notion of not being a leader in America's armed forces.


"Soldiers will die even when you do everything right. One day, you will have to write that letter home to someone's mother, and she will say 'Damn you to hell! Why do you come back, but send my son home in a box?'


"Charlie died that day in the Ia Drang Valley. A few days back, my lady and I went to visit Charlie's mother. One of Charlie's twin boys was there, grown and still living at home. He said,'I wanna show you my dad.' And there above the mantle was a framed letter that some 32 year old boy from Georgia, our commander, that he wrote home to Charlie's wife. I ain't no sissy baby, but I cried"


-you can't have a family and stay late every day in military. Wake up early so you can come home early to your family. example:


-"Daddy, mom says you make about $14 an hour"

"that sounds about right, yeah" she pulls out sock from under a bed, dumping change all over

the bed"Daddy, can I buy an hour of your time so we can spend some time together?"

-the greatest gift you can give one of your soldiers isn't a 3-day pass. Write that man/woman a letter. You think he won't take it home to his parents and show them how his military cares about him?


-when you go home on leave, the first thing you want to do us ditch your uniform. But, your parents have every right to show you off. Put on your dress uniform and let them take you out to dinner, to church. Let them be proud of you.


And now I feel just a little better about leading soldiers. Thanks to the sergeant his troops called "The Blade"



Saturday, March 27, 2010

Anybody can see how someone's contributions to life become a living memorial after their death.

Take a look at your playlists. Michael Jackson and Jim Dickinson, died in the past year. How many in your lifetime? Many of them you never knew until after they died. Freddy Mercury, Kurt Cobain, John Lennon to name a few. I wonder if your kids will ask you about them only to tell them, "no, we can't go see them in concert, Billy, go watch Sesame Street," only to realize Jim Henson died around the time you yourself were celebrating your 5th birthday, eating your Batman cake and taking your new Big-Wheel for a ride in front of that cute girl's house.

Each generation must face the hurdles of aging like your parents before you. Neverland can't always be Peter Pan's ageless paradise in those old Disney VHS tapes. We will grow old. We will witness our friends and family die around us.

My great grandparents lived next door to me growing up. How is my mom supposed to comfort me, knowing the next house over is empty. I can't go over and make PB&J's with Granddad anymore. No more old man to give me orange wedge shaped candies.

Persistence of memory is more than a trippy Dali painting. We, with our healthy minds and bodies, how do we cope with Alzheimers; your father and his defective heart, robbing his brain of oxygen and 47 years of growth. Your 18th birthday with your father in rehab, learning to walk again and trying to explain to him that his mother died 5 years ago.

How do you convince someone, anyone, that they cannot have those memories again? Sorry dad, sorry you will never know again the last breathes of your mother, even though you were there. Do you feel sorry for him? Maybe you feel happy that at least he didn't see the doctors take her off life support.

But you were there, pumping his chest, breathing for him when he couldn't breathe, his face the color of the dark blue that trails the sun into the night, seeing your mother argue with the doctors for one more day. One more day to beg your husband, your children's father, to come out of a coma. One last day to fight Death, to rob Death of his bounty.

He came through. Some people are granted second chances. Others are left with what impression they left on the sands of life. We can't all leave footprints on the moon. The winds move a little more swiftly on our little rock.

Live, damn it, live.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Leftovers

This pasta ain't worth shit. You think when you buy 15 fuckin dollar pasta at the italian place, that shit will warm its noodle-fuckin-self up when you get hungry a while later.
Its probly all that spinach and gorgonzola shit that keeps it from heatin up all the way through.

The fuck is gorgonzola? I watched Clash of the Titans so many times to know that Medusa was a Gorgon or some Greek trailer trash or something. Now I got some weak-ass mythical lettuce keepin me from my steamy leftovers. Fuck.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Supermax

I was just, in effect, skinned alive, again, by discount safety razors.
There's nothing safe about ripping off hairs and layers of epidermis by low-rent
face blades.
To make matters worse, after I rinsed off the raw remnants of my face,
I grabbed a wet, mildewed rag to get the excess shaving cream off
What I have now is a defenseless peace of land being invaded by fungal hordes.
I can only pray that princess toadstool will not turn my face into a tributary of the mushroom
kingdom. I feel like I just got slapped in the face with a rusty cheese grater, except there's no
fresh parmesan for my pasta tonight.

I'm investing in a real man's razor. That's right: a Sweeney Todd, Ginzu, slice-and-dice, Hattori Hanzo, +5 morale face blade. Eat shit and die, Shick Supermax.

Supermax, must be the kind of razors they give the inmates in Supermax prisons. But really, even if they were convicted of bombing WTC, leaders of the Gangsta Deciples, Unibombers, or Enron CFO's, I still wouldn't wish these unconstitional weedwackers to shave with.

Ya'll be good now.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

it was a simpler place in time

Names, places, and heads of religion have been changed to protect them from
someone posting about it 2 years later.....
Maya

you aint nuttin but a hoochie mama

22:48Boss Coffee

this hoochie mama got more men droppin dimes

on it

22:48Maya

hahahahahahaha

hows it goin

22:49Boss Coffee

good

officially army now

22:50Maya

YAY

you making monies

22:51Boss Coffee

not till end of march

22:51Maya

so are they ever shipping ur ass over to medieval rome to fight the giant hello kitty monsters in the name of the great USA

22:51Boss Coffee

makin negative moniies

22:52Maya

hahaha

22:52Boss Coffee

yeah, they gave me a godzilla suit and a rebel flag.

22:52Maya

hahahahahahahahah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

22:52Boss Coffee

gonna reverse medieval Rome's negative population growth

1/3 of Medieval Rome's marriages are sexless. say whut.

22:52Maya

damn

i can see that...my research advisor is medieval Roman...and she left her husband to live with her cat

lol

22:53Boss Coffee

Hegesippus

?

22:54Maya

She is a chemist and her name is Dr.Marcus Aurelius.....shes fucking nuts

lol

22:54Boss Coffee

she cute?

22:54Maya

very

shes 40 though...but she looks 20

22:54Boss Coffee

on it

gonna "audit" her class........

22:54Maya
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/9/94/Sanzio_01.jpg

22:55Boss Coffee

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Council_of_Trent

22:55Maya

WTF ??? lol lmao

22:55Boss Coffee

this is sad: my medieval roman teacher thought i was so cool cuz i ate an apple with my hand, ya know

like all country boys do? medieval roman men most be lacking or some shit if thats cool

22:56Maya

hahaha

clearly

dr aurelius thought skittles where really fruit flavored ......she was disappointed

lol

22:56Boss Coffee

yo teacher got implants

22:56Maya

I think

lol

she acts like an renaissance fresco character its bizarre

22:59Boss Coffee

haha

haha

so here;s my penthouse story

...

23:00Maya

wha? lol

23:00Boss Coffee

over at one of my medieval roman teacher's apartment

i think I had just taken her out to see gladiatora munera

medieval romans love cowboy movies, and hate that bitch from the Punic Wars as much as I do

23:01Maya

hahaha

did u bang her

lol

23:02Boss Coffee

we may have even just gone to the Forum Romanum for margaritas and sexy dessert

So we're back at here palce

don;t ruin it Maya....

23:02Maya

hahahaha

23:02Boss Coffee

for some reason, we get to talking about porn

not crazy medieval roman fetish rape boarium plebian kind

23:02Maya

hahahah..the kind u watch

23:03Boss Coffee

so, she says she;s never seen visigoth porn before

asks me if i can bring some over

i'm shit my pants and cum on my Titus Flamininus boxers that my mom got me for my 22nd birthday

23:04Maya

hahahahaha

WTF

lol

23:04Boss Coffee

next thing I know, and I don;t know what I said or what mythical game I was exuding

but I was kissing on the philosopher's neck

23:05Maya

lol

then.....you woke up

lol

hahahahahahahahahahaahhahahahaha

23:05Boss Coffee

next thing I know, the fucking sun is rising, not to be comically interfused with puns about the land of Romulus

and we're still making out

23:05Maya

lol

Boss Coffee, u got to second with ur prof

lol

damn

23:06Boss Coffee

that up till dawn make out shit has only happened with her and my friend's 18 year old hot freshman ass sister

23:06Maya

lol

23:06Boss Coffee

she wouldn;t let me get my hands down her pants

she's classy