Morning arrived at 3:00 A.M. for me today. Joy. The USS Abraham Lincoln (henceforth known as “the Abe”) arrived back in Everett, WA today a whole hour earlier than expected. And that’s fine by me, because the sooner the sucker arrived, the sooner I could help clean up and go home.

My assigned task for the morning (5 A.M. to 11:30 A.M.) was dispense pier parking permits to “important” officers, higher-ups, and their (mostly bitchy) wives.

The pier is only so large, so it only makes sense that only a limited amount of cars can park on it. I found this concept incredibly easy to understand, yet many officers, chiefs, and their (mostly bitchy) wives could not seem to comprehend this delicate predicament.

I aided the MAs at the guard shack and helped them stop cars and check I.D.s. My day went primarily like this:

(Mostly bitchy) wife: Yes, hi, I’m special because my husband outranks you and I belive my crotch smells like sweet roses and therefore you need to let me do whatever I please.

Me: Sorry, ma’am, but you’re not on my list so I can’t give you a pier pass. I’m afraid you’ll have to turn around and park in one of the many abundant parking lots on the base rather than on the pier.

(Mostly fat) wife: What!?!?! Are you suggesting that I walk down to the pier? Do you have any idea who I am? Have I not told you how important I am because my farts smell like cupcakes?

Me: Well, ma’am, if you like, there are busses that are continually running from every parking lot down to the pier to transport people. You can ride one of those for free if you’d rather not walk [your fat ass down there].

(Mostly bitchy) wife: I can’t believe this. I’m so important yet my Jedi mind trick skills are not working on you. Clearly I am no match for your superior intellect and prowess. Perhaps I will turn around, park my car, and ride the bus!

Rinse and repeat and you pretty much have my morning.

Finally got a “53″ added to the rear hatch of the car. Also added “Herbie” in the Futura font (used by VW in all their ads) in case there were any doubts as to the identity of the car. Now I’m off to rob a bank to pay for some new rims.

Day Four of Trash Pickup around the base was all but enthralling. Apparently the ship’s homecoming is a big deal. But I have other, more important things to think about than cigarette butts¹ and garbage. Homecoming is just a few days away and I don’t even have a date or someone to dance with!  And I really hope I get picked for Homecoming King.  Or do you reckon that’s a different kind of homecoming?

¹I hope all you bastards that smoke on base and toss your cigarette butts anywhere you please all die a horrific, painful death. Twice.

Wow. A horrific upgrade experience to WordPress 2.0.4 left me without O.F.a.L. for over two hours today.

I have also upgraded the Fish’s anti-SPAM plugins. As of this post, 181 comments have been approved and 126 comments have been correctly identified and removed as SPAM. That’s a lot of potted meat.

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I’ve spent the past three days doing nothing but picking up trash around the Navy base. When I say I’ve done nothing else, I’m not kidding. That’s all I’ve been doing. I don’t really mind it, though. The weather here has been beautiful and it’s a welcome change from a year-and-a-half of training indoors for 16 hours.

Apparently, some admiral is coming to visit the base. Oh, and his wife. I hear his wife mentioned more often than him, so she must be really important¹. Someone has spread new mulch around the base and all the windows have been cleaned for the first time in 200 years.

But the best part about the admiral’s visit is the removal of the seagull shit. Seagulls are everywhere on base, therefore seagull shit is, too. One of the buildings on base features a metal roof and is a favored perch for the seagulls. Unfortunately, the building is also home to several dead seagulls. It’s like they fly up there and then die, just to spite me. Oh, and don’t forget the gallons of bird poop on the roof. Add sun to the mix and you get a nice, toasty odor of dead bird and guano. Did I mention the building spans a couple blocks? Yea, I hope the admiral (and his wife) loves walking past it as much as I do.

It’s impossible (if not incredibly pointless) to wash the roof of the building. The Navy would have to get civilian contractors to climb up there with ladders and pressure washers, and this would mean that the Navy would have to spend money and that hardly ever happens. Unless you are the admiral’s wife and we think you need to smell new mulch. Otherwise, fuck you².

¹I doubt it.

²All opinions expressed on O.F.a.L. do not necessarily represent the opinions of the United States Navy. The author understand that his opinions are generally more correct than those of the government.

Original seagull photo (C)Tim Knight.