Got drunk, bought a paralyzed kitten for 4$.
One week later, got drunk. Get attacked from behind, finish the fight by coating a new shirt in his his faceblood.
The end.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Friday, June 19, 2009
Something
Well i'm bored as fuck. theres nothing interesting on the internet, roomate is sleeping so i cant do anything noisy. So lets ramble about some shit.
Going Big. I like to think of going big as a term of enlightenment. Bros with popped collars and fake sun tans are hitting the clubs this very minute, thinking they are going big. They order jaegerbombs, but likely have a favorite energy drink included in the shot, like it makes a fucking difference. in between their shots, which they probably call J-Bombs or JB's, they'll slow down with a couple mike's hard lemonades, and maybe even a natty light they'll pretend to chug.
Aside from their faggotry in their inebriation technique, they will ignore the thus far unwritten rule that conquering an area involves rallying the locals around your group, and eventually becoming the epicenter of Going Big for everyone in the vicinity to gravitate to and learn the ways of the Nightowl.
Not the Bros. In between hugging eachother and posing for "prison inmate stare" group photos where they throw fake gang signs at their iPhone camera, The Bros will annoy the living fuck out of each and every bartender, waitress, bouncer and customer in the place. Screeching noises they call laughter coupled with atrocious attempts to freestyle rap into an empty mike's bottle one of them spilled are the acts of the hour. Constantly referring to women as bitches and any man not in the group as fags will ensure that nobody within the area code will intentionally speak with the Bros or party in their remote proximity.
In short, These are the Antimatna. They are not without use however, as their presence allows the Nightowls to leave that much clearer of a mark on any society we touch. The Bros will always be just another group of "those fucking idiots" to the people unfortunate to meet them, which alone brings the Ministry's influence all the higher in the eyes of the soon to be conquered.
For me personally, the Watchhogs, Turkeynecks and SajMaj Express' of the world have fallen by the wayside. The Bros are now the most pathetic of species to me, and seeing them fail time and again to truely Go Big is a priceless bonus to take home.
Going Big. I like to think of going big as a term of enlightenment. Bros with popped collars and fake sun tans are hitting the clubs this very minute, thinking they are going big. They order jaegerbombs, but likely have a favorite energy drink included in the shot, like it makes a fucking difference. in between their shots, which they probably call J-Bombs or JB's, they'll slow down with a couple mike's hard lemonades, and maybe even a natty light they'll pretend to chug.
Aside from their faggotry in their inebriation technique, they will ignore the thus far unwritten rule that conquering an area involves rallying the locals around your group, and eventually becoming the epicenter of Going Big for everyone in the vicinity to gravitate to and learn the ways of the Nightowl.
Not the Bros. In between hugging eachother and posing for "prison inmate stare" group photos where they throw fake gang signs at their iPhone camera, The Bros will annoy the living fuck out of each and every bartender, waitress, bouncer and customer in the place. Screeching noises they call laughter coupled with atrocious attempts to freestyle rap into an empty mike's bottle one of them spilled are the acts of the hour. Constantly referring to women as bitches and any man not in the group as fags will ensure that nobody within the area code will intentionally speak with the Bros or party in their remote proximity.
In short, These are the Antimatna. They are not without use however, as their presence allows the Nightowls to leave that much clearer of a mark on any society we touch. The Bros will always be just another group of "those fucking idiots" to the people unfortunate to meet them, which alone brings the Ministry's influence all the higher in the eyes of the soon to be conquered.
For me personally, the Watchhogs, Turkeynecks and SajMaj Express' of the world have fallen by the wayside. The Bros are now the most pathetic of species to me, and seeing them fail time and again to truely Go Big is a priceless bonus to take home.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Mons Venus
Some of you might find this a little strange that I am writing about this and not the Cuban, but I feel as though this place needs to be mentioned. Through the word of mouth I herd of this strip club called Mons Venus and that unlike normal strip clubs this one is very unique. Unique indeed, not only do you get to touch the strippers who are completely naked, fondle them but the lap dances are a respectable $20-$30. There is no Champagne room at this place no booth to secretly hide while you get your dance, no way! this is all done out in the open so everyone can see the show. As the Cuban and I were just watching the madness going on around us someone bought a dance sitting next to us. little did I know but I soon find out why this place is so popular. As I gawk at the un-tattooed, un- pierced, amazingly gorgeous blond doing a hand stand split backwards beside of me. I realized none of these girls had fake breast, all were what looked like to be in there 20s, they all had the proper amount of teeth and seemed to have a very good personal trainer. I wanted a t-shirt from this place but they did not have my size, plus the Cuban said per rules I could not get a t-shirt with out a lap dance. Anyway hopefully I will next time.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Hockey and Tennis
To everyone whos been telling me it must be great to have the Penguins and Steelers win championships the same year: Fuck You, i hate the steelers, im not from pennsylvania.
Im am happy though, seeing Fez following the team and getting riled up over this too, thats a first for as long as I've been a fan of hockey. I'd love to talk about the penguins winning the cup and all that kind of stuff but, there is some business to attend to.
namely this:
An ad for ticketmaster abusing sacred language of the Nightowls. They didnt even get the damn wording right. Of all the sporting events there are, does tennis really seem like the one to go big at? aside from the occasional stabbing, the people who go to tennis matches are probably there to catch up on their sleep.
Going Big at the US Open would get you ejected. So fuck ticketmaster, this is the highest degree of false advertising.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
No, you cant have weed
There are much more important things that need to be legalized first.
1.
I want the right to strangle the fuck out of people who absolutely cannot function without someone feeling sorry for them 24 hours a day.
2.
I want the right to throw a coffee mug at the forehead of anyone who, whether they are even included in a conversation or not, is determined to make any topic that can be spoken verbally about themselves.
3.
Being drunk in public hurts nobody but the taxpayers when the arrest is made. being a buzzkilling narc can potentially lead to large quantities of civil unrest. do the math.
4.
I want the right to open-palm-throat-strike anyone who asks me if im doing alright more than once a month.
This list is completely unsatisfying in its briefness, but the rage boiling over is preventing me from thinking straight enough to write anymore at this time.
1.
I want the right to strangle the fuck out of people who absolutely cannot function without someone feeling sorry for them 24 hours a day.
2.
I want the right to throw a coffee mug at the forehead of anyone who, whether they are even included in a conversation or not, is determined to make any topic that can be spoken verbally about themselves.
3.
Being drunk in public hurts nobody but the taxpayers when the arrest is made. being a buzzkilling narc can potentially lead to large quantities of civil unrest. do the math.
4.
I want the right to open-palm-throat-strike anyone who asks me if im doing alright more than once a month.
This list is completely unsatisfying in its briefness, but the rage boiling over is preventing me from thinking straight enough to write anymore at this time.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Shirts?
Whats going on with these? Fez I know that your busy getting Anally violated in Vegas... I need to flaunt the Gunnamatna colors in Afghan when i get shitty drunk on friday.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Vegas
90 minutes in Vegas, a pit boss put her finger in my ass...... Let me rewind.
Before I even left my house, at 11:30 in the morning, i had already had 3 beers. On the drive to Sin City, I finished another 16 which had me showing up in Vegas a little smashed already. Well i decided to play black jack as soon as I got there. The drink people at the Sahara are great for letting you have 2 drinks all the time.
Well the Pit Cougar (yes, the cougar magnetism is at fault for this), was flirting with me, i didn't think anything about it, because i was in a friendly mood. Even after i lost my money, I was still happy because i got plenty more smashed.
Having no more cash to gamble with i went to the in casino convienent store for liquor and snacks. And who happens to show up, the pit cougar (my friend believes she followed me to the store, like an actual wild animal stalking her prey), I had already paid for my stuff and while my friend was paying for beer and cigarettes, she started to get close to me.
Mind you, at this point, I am far from sober. My senses were dulled, so in the wild, i would have been the gazelle with a broken ankle...easy prey.
I offer her a cheeto (yes an actual cheeto, i bought some snacks at the store)....now i don't know what that means in vegas, but in Wyoming, that means would you like a tasty snack.
Well she passed on the cheeto and slid her hand down my pants and credit card swiped my B-hole. Now her finger never actually penetrated the barrier, but i clammed up. Walked out of the store with out saying a word. The terror of a strangers hand giving you a tap tap at your back door is not something i want for anyone.
The best part, is my friend said that he thought she a knife to my back. He said the look on my face was that of pure fear.
After that incident it was a fun two days, I got drunk, vomited at Denny's, passed out shitting at Walgreens, made an ass out of myself at the club, and eventually hit a lucky streak at gambling in Ceaser's Palace. My liver hurts, I feel like a rape victim... Cant' wait till we have a nightowl reunion and go to vegas.
Before I even left my house, at 11:30 in the morning, i had already had 3 beers. On the drive to Sin City, I finished another 16 which had me showing up in Vegas a little smashed already. Well i decided to play black jack as soon as I got there. The drink people at the Sahara are great for letting you have 2 drinks all the time.
Well the Pit Cougar (yes, the cougar magnetism is at fault for this), was flirting with me, i didn't think anything about it, because i was in a friendly mood. Even after i lost my money, I was still happy because i got plenty more smashed.
Having no more cash to gamble with i went to the in casino convienent store for liquor and snacks. And who happens to show up, the pit cougar (my friend believes she followed me to the store, like an actual wild animal stalking her prey), I had already paid for my stuff and while my friend was paying for beer and cigarettes, she started to get close to me.
Mind you, at this point, I am far from sober. My senses were dulled, so in the wild, i would have been the gazelle with a broken ankle...easy prey.
I offer her a cheeto (yes an actual cheeto, i bought some snacks at the store)....now i don't know what that means in vegas, but in Wyoming, that means would you like a tasty snack.
Well she passed on the cheeto and slid her hand down my pants and credit card swiped my B-hole. Now her finger never actually penetrated the barrier, but i clammed up. Walked out of the store with out saying a word. The terror of a strangers hand giving you a tap tap at your back door is not something i want for anyone.
The best part, is my friend said that he thought she a knife to my back. He said the look on my face was that of pure fear.
After that incident it was a fun two days, I got drunk, vomited at Denny's, passed out shitting at Walgreens, made an ass out of myself at the club, and eventually hit a lucky streak at gambling in Ceaser's Palace. My liver hurts, I feel like a rape victim... Cant' wait till we have a nightowl reunion and go to vegas.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Deployment is the mother of invention
Happy mothers day, Deployment, from your son, Invention.
From the same desperate times that brought us the Ripdog, comes two combinations which produce winning formulas for possible go bigdom while separated from a proper fountain of flavaz.
The Seahawk:
Have you ever wondered why the giant refrigerators at the DFAC are stocked to the gills with that shitty ass fruit cocktail nectar? I think i know why. It was done as a favor to an unknown officer who wanted to make sure he never ran out of the shit, so he could mix it with his imported seagrams. thats right. Seagrams is good enough to be consumed all by its lonely, but mixing it with the Infidel Juice (75% Seagrams, 25% Juice" produces a distict flavor likely to surprise an imbibing Nightowl. It somehow is the perfect combination to cancel out the shit flavor parts of the whiskey, while leaving the warm burn that lets you know youre still on the rollercoaster to embarassment. the "Sea" comes from Seagrams, the "Hawk" comes from the surprise attack the flavor brings.
The Fly: Gilbeys' Vodka and Mountain dew. A 50/50 mixture of the two. Remember any time youve ever had a jack and coke, and you could tell how strong it was because you could most definetly choose to examine the volume of either ingredient just by paying attention, something that comes from being able to taste both of them independantly of each other. This one is called The Fly, because in its perfect genesis, creates an entirely new flavor, neither vodka nor mountain dew, and it is definetely acceptable for the territory. If you still dont get what "The Fly" means, go watch the movie of the same name.
Gunnamatna.
From the same desperate times that brought us the Ripdog, comes two combinations which produce winning formulas for possible go bigdom while separated from a proper fountain of flavaz.
The Seahawk:
Have you ever wondered why the giant refrigerators at the DFAC are stocked to the gills with that shitty ass fruit cocktail nectar? I think i know why. It was done as a favor to an unknown officer who wanted to make sure he never ran out of the shit, so he could mix it with his imported seagrams. thats right. Seagrams is good enough to be consumed all by its lonely, but mixing it with the Infidel Juice (75% Seagrams, 25% Juice" produces a distict flavor likely to surprise an imbibing Nightowl. It somehow is the perfect combination to cancel out the shit flavor parts of the whiskey, while leaving the warm burn that lets you know youre still on the rollercoaster to embarassment. the "Sea" comes from Seagrams, the "Hawk" comes from the surprise attack the flavor brings.
The Fly: Gilbeys' Vodka and Mountain dew. A 50/50 mixture of the two. Remember any time youve ever had a jack and coke, and you could tell how strong it was because you could most definetly choose to examine the volume of either ingredient just by paying attention, something that comes from being able to taste both of them independantly of each other. This one is called The Fly, because in its perfect genesis, creates an entirely new flavor, neither vodka nor mountain dew, and it is definetely acceptable for the territory. If you still dont get what "The Fly" means, go watch the movie of the same name.
Gunnamatna.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Ground side, Bilbo, and Cobble Wobble
Wow. So much shit has happened and i feel like its gone by so fast its only been a few weeks. first off, thank god i was recalled as a sergeant, because the ground guys treat everyone below that like complete shit. Ive actually had to sit down and have a talk with a female LCpl about why she shouldnt call me sergeant every 2 seconds. for christs sake the rank isnt punctuation. Even though this is a shitty supply battalion, It boggles the mind how different it is from the wing. I'm not going to say "OH IVE BEEN GROUND SIDE YOU GUYS JUST DONT KNOW....YOU DONT FUCKIN KNOW" all im saying is thank god for the wing, because ground units are fucking stupid. I have never seen so many NJP's for stupid shit in my life, and our CO is a total piece himself! classic case of a trick ass. no let me rephrase, this guy REDEFINES the definition of trick ass. Imagine if you will, the most self serving scumbag on the face of planet earth, being put in a position where he has 900 toy soldiers to move across a map like hes playing a game of risk. except the only problem is, hes moving them across territory he already owns. so what does he do? well, he fucks with them of course! since there is nobody here to outroll with double sixes, he just starts throwing infractions around like fucking captain sobel from band of brothers. so yeah like i said before, its gay.
On to my next point, which involves Fez.
Fez. i want you to read this as if youre seeing it yourself. Youre sitting in an office in front of a computer, and behind you a door opens. you hear the pitter patter of little tiny footprints, and you know whose they are. its SSgt Bilbrey, the 5 foot nothing munchkin who resembles a hobbit 10 times better than yufit ever could. I am not even fucking kidding. I cannot count the times i have thought of your reaction if you were to see this guy. dude...seriously, i dont even know what else to say, i'm going to have to take a picture and post it for you to believe the amount of laughter i get at this guys expense, because i know, no matter how much i may get used to him being around me, you would never NEVER be able to keep a straight face while he is in the same room.
Lastly. Jolly I have not gotten your package as of this date, but, i have gotten one from fez and my dad. and let me say, good got you guys have found a way to go big through the postal service. Already i have more booze than we had in OIF3 and 4 combined. just to give you an idea, my dad sent 750ml bottles of seagrams, gilbeys and capt, and i receieved a bottle of COBBLE WOBBLE from fez. ANYWAY. that is a lot for now. all I can say is Gunnamatna! and i am fucked up from the seagrams my dad sent. gunna. fucking. matna.
On to my next point, which involves Fez.
Fez. i want you to read this as if youre seeing it yourself. Youre sitting in an office in front of a computer, and behind you a door opens. you hear the pitter patter of little tiny footprints, and you know whose they are. its SSgt Bilbrey, the 5 foot nothing munchkin who resembles a hobbit 10 times better than yufit ever could. I am not even fucking kidding. I cannot count the times i have thought of your reaction if you were to see this guy. dude...seriously, i dont even know what else to say, i'm going to have to take a picture and post it for you to believe the amount of laughter i get at this guys expense, because i know, no matter how much i may get used to him being around me, you would never NEVER be able to keep a straight face while he is in the same room.
Lastly. Jolly I have not gotten your package as of this date, but, i have gotten one from fez and my dad. and let me say, good got you guys have found a way to go big through the postal service. Already i have more booze than we had in OIF3 and 4 combined. just to give you an idea, my dad sent 750ml bottles of seagrams, gilbeys and capt, and i receieved a bottle of COBBLE WOBBLE from fez. ANYWAY. that is a lot for now. all I can say is Gunnamatna! and i am fucked up from the seagrams my dad sent. gunna. fucking. matna.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Have Fun Golfing
Thats right pig fuckers, I hope you enjoyed your 6 games of the playoffs. Maybe next year you wont collapse like....well, like the Flyers. For a while there it looked like "Flyers Hockey" might well be alive still, and the broad street bully strategy wasnt a tired prehistoric failure.
Then the Penguins realized something. Daniel Briere looks like a pasty, freakish mixture of a hobbit and michael jackson, with the biggest difference being that the hobbit has a ring. This little phenomenon of human genetic mutation is slightly less intimidating than your average quadrapeligic chihuahua with its mouth glued shut, and was a prime candidate to be shoved around like gary coleman in a biker mosh pit.
anyways it was fun watching them blow a 3-0 lead with their season on the line, it was a good pick me up after a shitty day. Thanks for the charity work.
Then the Penguins realized something. Daniel Briere looks like a pasty, freakish mixture of a hobbit and michael jackson, with the biggest difference being that the hobbit has a ring. This little phenomenon of human genetic mutation is slightly less intimidating than your average quadrapeligic chihuahua with its mouth glued shut, and was a prime candidate to be shoved around like gary coleman in a biker mosh pit.
anyways it was fun watching them blow a 3-0 lead with their season on the line, it was a good pick me up after a shitty day. Thanks for the charity work.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
If you want to feel a little better.
Start reading some of these peoples horrible lives and feel a little better about life.
http://www.fmylife.com/
http://www.fmylife.com/
Request
the deployment is getting gay. extremely gay. assistance is needed in the form of you know what. if anyone is able to help, it would be greatly appreciated. dont care what it is, but a portion of Teq is preferable. again i cant stress enough how gay it is here. this is the gayest "combat" zone ever. its gayer than richard simmons at a hotdog eating contest.
sgt "Kaiser", CLB-7 H&S
41735 FPOAP 96426-1735
that is the magic code to deliver salvation to the middle east. fuck the starving fucks in somalia for now, let them hijack sally strothers' barge full of rice if they want to eat.
sgt "Kaiser", CLB-7 H&S
41735 FPOAP 96426-1735
that is the magic code to deliver salvation to the middle east. fuck the starving fucks in somalia for now, let them hijack sally strothers' barge full of rice if they want to eat.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Fez
As most of you might know already, I am not the most well spoken individual out there. In fact, I am one of the most low-down, fucked up, arrogant, and dick headed people when it comes to addressing people and their feelings and shit. So with that in mind, please keep in mind, I write as I speak. There will be a lot of "yo" and "fuck" and "shit". Who knows, maybe some mother fuckers and all sorts of other shit that is involved in my daily regiment of language.
Flash Back March 19th - 715pm EST
Had a long day at work, so I decided that when a few people addressed the fact that they hadn't seen me in a bit, I went to Otts (the local bar). Arrived around 8, and it being somewhat of Spring Break or some shit, I see a ton of people that I know but whom I could give two flying fucks about or about their shitty fucking lives and what they are doing with their fucked existence. So I shrug them off as quick as they came over and continue to pound Corona's (no fruit, if I want fruit in my drink I will order a raspberry cosmo or some other faggot shit) and mind erasers, ith total intentions of being home by 11pm so that I can be on time for work friday. Needless to say 11 had come and gone and I am still at the bar, drinking like a fucking fish and getting dangerously close to getting flagged and asked to leave. So my brainiac idea, preemptive strike that flagging and just leave, I NEED TITTIES IN MY FACE was being shouted as I left the bar. I now find myself in the parking lot of my favorite titty bar, wad of cash in hand, a sick pack in the other and nothing but tits and ass on my mind. I stumble to the door, and realize one shitty fucking fact. NO ID! They wont let me in. I left it at the bar on the oposite side of the highway. SO I walk back to my car, go to grab my keys, dont have em, look in all my pockets and the ground, NOPE! I peer into the window my keys are in the ignition. So i have 2 choices here:
1. Call my parents, get them to bring me my spare key and take the hit on tits and go home.
2. Walk to the bar, grab my ID, get tits in my face, call a cab, get my spare and get my car in the morning.
Being the clever Nightowl I am, I obviously choose option 2. I start awlking my happy ass across the street (6 lane highway). I then decide, this walk is taking long ( maybe about 300 yards or less from the tits to the ID), I sit on the Jersey Barrier and drink a beer. Go get my ID, get titties in my face from my favorite tittie bar stripper, and call a cab. No cabs at 2am on a thursday night, in fact nobody i know is awake, and i have no fucking awy to get the fuck home. I start hoofing it, i get about half way, when gods good grace shined upon me. I am walking passed the 24hr McDonalds and I see a car that I recognize, so I walk up to it, nobody in it, i wait about 30 minutes and out from the motel accross the way comes my boy, with a shit eatting grin on his face. He wanted titties too, but went the whole other way about it. All in all I got home at 330 in the morning, took a shower, and passed out on my floor. I was late to work, took me forever to find my spare, and was still drunk all the next day, almost destroying my entire friday (like that is possible).
I have another story, but I ill save that for a bit later.
Flash Back March 19th - 715pm EST
Had a long day at work, so I decided that when a few people addressed the fact that they hadn't seen me in a bit, I went to Otts (the local bar). Arrived around 8, and it being somewhat of Spring Break or some shit, I see a ton of people that I know but whom I could give two flying fucks about or about their shitty fucking lives and what they are doing with their fucked existence. So I shrug them off as quick as they came over and continue to pound Corona's (no fruit, if I want fruit in my drink I will order a raspberry cosmo or some other faggot shit) and mind erasers, ith total intentions of being home by 11pm so that I can be on time for work friday. Needless to say 11 had come and gone and I am still at the bar, drinking like a fucking fish and getting dangerously close to getting flagged and asked to leave. So my brainiac idea, preemptive strike that flagging and just leave, I NEED TITTIES IN MY FACE was being shouted as I left the bar. I now find myself in the parking lot of my favorite titty bar, wad of cash in hand, a sick pack in the other and nothing but tits and ass on my mind. I stumble to the door, and realize one shitty fucking fact. NO ID! They wont let me in. I left it at the bar on the oposite side of the highway. SO I walk back to my car, go to grab my keys, dont have em, look in all my pockets and the ground, NOPE! I peer into the window my keys are in the ignition. So i have 2 choices here:
1. Call my parents, get them to bring me my spare key and take the hit on tits and go home.
2. Walk to the bar, grab my ID, get tits in my face, call a cab, get my spare and get my car in the morning.
Being the clever Nightowl I am, I obviously choose option 2. I start awlking my happy ass across the street (6 lane highway). I then decide, this walk is taking long ( maybe about 300 yards or less from the tits to the ID), I sit on the Jersey Barrier and drink a beer. Go get my ID, get titties in my face from my favorite tittie bar stripper, and call a cab. No cabs at 2am on a thursday night, in fact nobody i know is awake, and i have no fucking awy to get the fuck home. I start hoofing it, i get about half way, when gods good grace shined upon me. I am walking passed the 24hr McDonalds and I see a car that I recognize, so I walk up to it, nobody in it, i wait about 30 minutes and out from the motel accross the way comes my boy, with a shit eatting grin on his face. He wanted titties too, but went the whole other way about it. All in all I got home at 330 in the morning, took a shower, and passed out on my floor. I was late to work, took me forever to find my spare, and was still drunk all the next day, almost destroying my entire friday (like that is possible).
I have another story, but I ill save that for a bit later.
What the foooooook.
Does anyone else look at this anymore....is anyone going big?
Well I don't have any good stories to tell, except i blacked out 2 weekends ago and i woke up with Moby Dick Sister.
Please people, start posting about some debauchery soon.
Well I don't have any good stories to tell, except i blacked out 2 weekends ago and i woke up with Moby Dick Sister.
Please people, start posting about some debauchery soon.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Alright
Well, i decided to try to design a shirt. I am going for cheapness here, but i still want it to look cool. The back would have all the names and the front would be gunnamatna and the motto.
I think everyone should try to design a t-shirt and we would go with the best one. I used a site called: www.uberprints.com
Fez
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Death of a Tolerance
So here I am, in Al Asad, my new duty station. I can hardly describe this as a deployment, since my job is basically to sit on my ass and watch movies on the share drive. However there is still a major significance to me during this faggotry.
Before coming out here, I had been in the states for over two years consecutively. Over that period of time i built up by far and away the most impressive tolerance of my life. during the run up to the deployment, a 12 pack was used nightly to get myself a little bit drowsy so i could sleep. Whenever the other recalls asked about my drinking, the hows and whys always came back to my time in the golden years of the Nightowls. Of course they didnt fully understand, but a few of them were eager to join in and be summarily punished by the flavaz.
I will greatly miss this tolerance, even though it cost a fucking fortune to drink when i wanted to.
Fez, your trip to philly is definetly one of the greatest things i have ever read. That weekend should have its own campaign medal for all involved.
Blaze, How have you not been promoted yet? The latest post about you seals what should have already been a deal. Senior Nightowl it is.
peace for now bitches, Gunnamatna.
Before coming out here, I had been in the states for over two years consecutively. Over that period of time i built up by far and away the most impressive tolerance of my life. during the run up to the deployment, a 12 pack was used nightly to get myself a little bit drowsy so i could sleep. Whenever the other recalls asked about my drinking, the hows and whys always came back to my time in the golden years of the Nightowls. Of course they didnt fully understand, but a few of them were eager to join in and be summarily punished by the flavaz.
I will greatly miss this tolerance, even though it cost a fucking fortune to drink when i wanted to.
Fez, your trip to philly is definetly one of the greatest things i have ever read. That weekend should have its own campaign medal for all involved.
Blaze, How have you not been promoted yet? The latest post about you seals what should have already been a deal. Senior Nightowl it is.
peace for now bitches, Gunnamatna.
Monday, March 2, 2009
New Jerseys
So,
Kaiser, I have been wondering where you got the jersey's from. I want to make some new ones. Certain folk don't have any, and i believe it is time to get everyone a jersey.
Any ideas?
fez
Kaiser, I have been wondering where you got the jersey's from. I want to make some new ones. Certain folk don't have any, and i believe it is time to get everyone a jersey.
Any ideas?
fez
Friday, February 27, 2009
For Booty Calls that have no excuse typing on the MATNA
That's right, you have to earn a spot to type on here. Check back into your proper place.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Hall of fame week
In order to help Fez move he came up to my house to pick me up so we can move his shit to AZ. He comes up on the 2nd and mayhem ensued. First two nights where kinda slow just went to some local bars and took it kinda easy. The night before we were sup to leave it was a great moment in drunken nightowls history. Fez didn’t go big he went huge. The Day started out with lady problems with both me and fez’s bitches. I get a call at 9am from Fez asking what beer I would like to consume and if I want a breakfast sandwich from Dunkin donouts. By noon the monster had consumed a 12 pack and half a bottle of baileys and yes… Lazo would be jealous. By 5pm he had made numerous drunken phone calls and made a complete ass of himself that the night had just begun. We decide to go to a local bar where I know most of the people that go there with blaze me and the animal. Blazes Ex shows up a little later. We get there and fez buys everyone chili fries and beers. Winks and tells all the waiters and waitress they are cute and makes names up for them and actually gets one of the names right. I decide it was time to go after an hr because I want to be able to return to consume beer at this place again. On the way out he frisks blazes girl…when I say frisk I mean grab and grope. I bring him home and watch as he starts to fall asleep so blaze and I roll back out to the bar. This time we are drinking at chilis. We aren’t there for a few minutes when I get a phone call from my brother telling me he is trying to leave. I tell him to take the keys from him. When I get back to my house Fez is in tears crying for his keys and asking my brother to drive him to AZ for 500 dollars…. And 1000 if he doesn’t. After this he keeps bugging me and my brother for his keys so I get tired and tell my brother to give them to him and let him kill himself. Well he called my bluff and now I had to stop him from leaving. By dodging an upper cut from Ryu I throw him to the floor and get on top him and start strangling him as he is telling me I’m so tough because I can beat him up. Tears start again… More drunken phone calls to a chick to tell her he is pissed at her and tells her he loves her instead. Then we smoke cigars and calm him down to go to sleep. There is more to mention but I don’t have the time or inclination to deal with it. Just know it is in the top 3 drunken madness moments I have ever been privileged to be apart of.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
