The topic of gays in the military was brought up at work the other day by one of my instructors. For some reason that I can’t figure out, a lot of guys think just because they’re around a homosexual, that their asshole has just become his personal target.

I’m not gay and I’m not homophobic. I have known and have worked with enough gay people to know that this is just not the case. Switch gears for a minute. I’m heterosexual and I guarantee you that I do not want to stick anything anywhere and have sex with just any woman simply because she’s a woman. For proof of this, I submit to you exhibit A:

So why do most guys think they’re going to get jumped by a homosexual? Do they really believe that just because a guy is gay that he wants to have sex with every single guy that he sees, that he doesn’t have standards and qualities that he looks for in a guy? I think it’s one of the dumbest things to worry about.

I love to play devil’s advocate, especially to “old school” military personnel that think that all gays are evil and out to hump them. I pointed out to my instructor that the only thing that kept him from being a homosexual was the fact that he hadn’t slept with any men, despite having all the other necessary qualities. He objected profusely in that he posessed no homosexual qualities and had no idea what I was talking about, so I tried to make it clearer to him what I meant.

Gay stereotype #1: Clothes

How many outfits does a guy need?

I have a dress blue uniform, a dress white uniform, summer whites, working blues, utilities, and coveralls. (Many other rates in the Navy have even more) Why? Do I really need to change into this many costumes? How about one dress uniform and one working uniform? (And the coveralls, because, well… Let’s face it, they’re damn comfy.) Plus, some of the uniforms are made of polyester! I don’t know any straight guys outside the military that wear polyester! I have gay friends that have less clothes (and polyester) than me.

Gay stereotype #2: Well groomed

“Did you shave this morning?”

Have you ever seen a guy in the military with long hair or a beard? Hell no. You know why? Because every day other guys in the military are inspecting you. They’re seeing if your hair is cut to standards and if you’re clean shaven. Dudes checking out dudes? Gay.

Gay stereotype #3: Looking at other guys

This ties in with the above to some degree. I can’t say that I spend a great deal of my time looking at the asses and such of other men. But it must make a lot of people in the military excited! An example: uniform inspections. A whole line of guys standing at attention with their butt cheeks clenched tight with their chest poking out just so some other guy can walk by and check them out. They get up close, look at your haircut, your shave, your shiny (or lack therof) boots, your uniform, etc.). It’s like the dating game and they want to see who they can go out with based on looks alone. What the military calls an inspection I consider a fashion show. And fashion shows without women are gay.

I think my observations are funny and I only said them to ruffle my instructor’s feathers. And I succeeded. He just scoffed and trotted out of the room unhappily, saying, “Well I’m sorry you feel that way.”

I suppose “the gays” are out there, but hopefully my instructor can find some comfort in the fact that not everyone in the Navy is gay. (You have to look to the Marines for that.)

Another glorious Thursday. What a week from hell! At least it’s almost over with a three day weekend ahead of me, complete with massive amounts of delicious white zin to celebrate the new year! Everyone’s invited, just stop by and bring some booze or food (or both!).

I passed my test today with about the same average I’ve passed all my previous tests in the Navy. I always seem to score between a 3.0 and a 3.3 (out of 4.0 and 2.5 is the minimum to pass anything). Time to buckle up for some hands on training now. When you see on the news that Charleson, SC suffered a severe nuclear meltdown you’ll know who to blame…

One of my “paid-with-Christmas-gift-card” presents arrived today. The Lord of the Rings: the Fellowshop of the Ring: the Complete Recordings: Here is another colon: And Another; And a Semicolon Just For Fun. Complete with 3 audio CDs and a DVD of all the music in SuRrOuNd SoUnD. Nothing gets the blood pumping more than the heavy metal hit “May It Be” by Enya in mucho fabuloso Dolby Digital sound.

Friday, 1600 simply can’t get here fast enough.

This has been a long and difficult week for me. Tomorrow is a busy day; I have an important test to take. Wish me luck.

I’ll do my best to think of something more uplifting and entertaining this weekend.

But for now, it’s all work and no play make JediMacFan a dull boy.

“Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can”

Merry Christmas from the Fish.

And an especially Merry Christmas to my fellow inmates from the Tetherd Pasture.

7:00 P.M. 12.5 hours on the job. I am tired and want to go home.

All learning aid material related to nuclear power is confidential and must be secured with a padlock in my personal locker. I go there.

My locker is approximately 12″ x 12″ x 12″.

I am around 6′2″ tall.

My locker happens to be the one on the very bottom about .5″ off the floor.

Cursing occurs.

7:03 P.M.

Three separate attempts made to open the lock with the exact same combination that has worked for 6 weeks. No dice.

More swearing ensues.

7:04 P.M.

Ask fellow sailor to attempt opening my lock. No such luck.

Confusion and vituperation follow.

7:05 P.M. Clock is ticking; anger is building. Five separate attempts have been made between two individuals to open the lock. All attempts fail; outlook not so good.

7:06 P.M. I kick the locker with my right foot. Lock falls to the ground, door swings open, small dent made.

7:06:13 P.M. Faith in government security declines. Small chuckle to self.

7:07 P.M. “Good enough for government work,” I think to myself as I leave for the night.

Random thought of the morning: Say two worms were in love, and one of them wants to have sex to mate but the other just isn’t in the mood. If the worm who wants to have sex is simply cut in half (rather than go through a worm mating process of sorts) by the worm who is not in the mood, is that considered a worm quickie?

Words cannot express how much I hate this song. This is by far the worst Christmas song ever written. You don’t “wanna wish me a merry Christmas”, Jose’, because I despise you and only want to shoot you in the knee, have you castrated with a rusty spoon, and drag you behind a meatwagon through a rough neighborhood with hungry stray rabid dogs chasing after you.

I’m not really sure why I hate this song so much, I just do. I know Christmas has arrived when I hear it though. It signals the impending doom that is the holiday shopping rush (I always hear it when I am out shopping for Christmas presents and it’s always insanely busy. Apparently the song is reserved only for me and when I go out to a public place and cannot escape it).

I suppose the song could be worse, though. It could be a duet with Tori Amos (::shudder::) with music by Yanni and Kenny G. in the background. Oh, man, that is simply too brutal to think about. Excuse me while I clean up the blood dripping from my ears…

Christmas is getting closer and you know what that means? People are getting dumber and more assholic than normal. And in South Carolina, this is saying a lot.

Imagine if you will a state completely filled with Randy Quaid’s character “Eddie” from all the National Lampoon movies, Cletus from the Simpsons, the Beverly Hillbillies, and the cast from from the Dukes of Hazzard (TV show and new movie, it doesn’t matter). Subtract at least 60 points from the average I.Q. in this country and you’re pretty much left with South Carolina’s general population.

The only thing worse than the intelligence (or lack thereof) of the citizens in this abhorrent state are the driving capabilities (or, once again, a lack thereof) of said citizens. Drivers in this state ride so close to your ass that I guarantee that if you farted they could smell it and tell you what you had just eaten.

Tailgaters are like rectal exams: There’s rarely an excuse for anyone to be that close to your ass. Period. I had someone riding behind my car the whole way home tonight. I breaked hard three or four times, hoping that they would get the hint and back down. Nope, not this tard.

It’s been a goal of mine for some time now to honestly try and kill someone while they’re tailgating my car. I’ve come very close on two occasions. Once, in Ohio, while traveling at a comfy 50 MPH or so on a 35 MPH on ramp. When I’m already speeding, do not try and push me faster. The result? I braked like a madman and instantly sped up whereas the fat driver behind me all but swerved over the edge. It was glorious.

The second time was in South Carolina in a huge mess of traffic at rush hour. Once again, I was already speeding with the flow of traffic but leaving enough room between me and the car ahead of me. Apparently the person behind me didn’t agree with me and unwisely tried to make me speed up. Again, I just braked suddenly and they came within inches of the guard rail after swerving. The best part was that the car directly behind me was almost rear ended by yet another tailgating South Carolinian. It was almost a two-for-one deal. So close, Mr. Darwin, so close…

If you have the audacity to tailgate me, let this be your warning that I consider you fair game and unworthy of life. Should your life perish in the event of me braking my vehicle, be forewarned that I will only feel pure happiness and delight in knowing that you are dead, because it just means there is one less troglodyte on the road that I have to watch out for.

If you “assume or act out” the art of masturbation, are you roleplaying with yourself?