OneCrazyDEvil's blog: "Military Related"

Pimp My Tank! Here’s one to read over a morning cup of Joe… When you absolutely, positively must crash that party you weren’t invited to, here’s your ride. It’s sophisticated, yet rugged. The white color scheme and United Nations logo stenciled on the side says “I’m willing to be reasonable about this. Someone must have forgotten to put me on the guest list.” But the smooth-bore 120 jutting from the turret says: “Though, if you’re not going to let me in, we’re gonna have a problem.” Comfortable Corinthian leather bench seats that can accommodate all your scantily-clad groupies - and thick glass portals to keep the paparazzi at bay. Oh, and did we forget the beverage cooler and milspec champagne bottle rack? So when the pansies in Hollywood try to block your entrance to their post-production party in the Hills with their girlie-man Prius hybrids, just put this chick magnet in gear and drive right the hell over them.

Shima', I am well. Hope you are. Tell my brudder Elmer the Marine Corps beats working for the trading post. Tell him to join up quick before maybe all of the places are filled. I was kinda sorta restless at the beginning because you got to stay in bed till nearly 6 a.m., but am getting used to sleeping late. Tell Elmer all you do before breakfast is smooth your cot and shine some things. And you get a real bed to sleep on and you don't wake up smelling like the sheepskin. And there's no sheep to herd, horses to tend to, fences to fix, wood to split, practically nothing to do. And you get to take a shower because there's warm water. They actually have breakfast like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, but kind of weak on mutton, potatoes, ham, steak, fried spam and other regular food, but tell Elmer you can always sit by the two city folks that live on coffee. Their food plus yours holds you till noon when you get fed again. It's no wonder these city folks can't walk much. We go on "route marches", which the platoon sergeant says are long walks to harden us. If he thinks so, it's not my place to tell him different. A "route march" is about as far as to our hogan to the main highway. Then the city guys get sore feet and we all ride back in trucks. The ocean is nearby but you have to get through what's called a swamp to get to it. Reminds me of swimming in the windmill water tanks back home. The sergeant is like a boarding school dorm aide. He nags a lot. The captains, majors, and colonels just ride around looking at us somehow, kinda sorta like the council delegate. They don't bother you unless you have something they want.. This next will make Elmer laugh really hard. I keep getting medals for shooting. I don't know why. The bulls-eye is near as big as a prairie dog head and it doesn't move or run around. All you got to do is lie there all comfortable and hit it. And you get to use bigger bullets than the old 22's they sell at the fleamarket in Gallup. Then we have what they call hand to hand combat training. You get to wrestle with them city folks. I have to be real careful though, beacuse they break real easy. It isn't like fighting with that ole bull at home. I'm about the best they got in this except for that Rita from over in Forest Lake. I only beat her once. She joined up the same time as me, but I'm only 5'6" and 130 pounds, and she's 6'8" and weighs near 300 pounds dry. Be sure to tell Elmer to hurry and join before all those other guys figure out that this is easier than boarding school in Lukachukai. Your loving daughter, Roycita.