Afishionados,
This Halloween I wanted to dress up as something really scary, so I’ve decided to go as a Republican. I’ve narrowed it down to six possible costumes to go with, but I have my concerns. I’m worried that people won’t realize that I’m dressed up as a Republican and instead will think I’m just dressed as an Asshole.
Afishionados,
There exists within the United States Navy a rate (a.k.a. “job”) known as “hull technician”. Here is the job description from About.com:
HTs do the metal work necessary to keep all types of shipboard structures and surfaces in good condition. They also maintain shipboard plumbing and marine sanitation systems, repair small boats, operate and maintain ballast control systems, and manage the Quality Assurance Program.
There is an HT who is on the same firewatch team as me and, after meeting this guy, I find it difficult to believe that the Navy considers the HT rate and “advanced technical field”. To say this guy was stupid would be an insult to morons everywhere. I swear to you, this guy couldn’t find his own asshole with a flashlight and a map of his own butt.
The toilets onboard the carrier are more than capable of flushing a large cat down to the darkest depths of the sewage tanks. Inevitably (and unfortunately) there exist people in the world like my brother who can clog a toilet no matter what the water pressure.
When the shit sticks thick (or if you’ve crammed your porno magazine and cum-filled sock into the toilet), it’s time to call in the HTs. Because of this deplorable responsibility, HTs are more commonly known as “turd chasers”.
Back in the “good old days” of firewatch, I worked in the office and sent other poor, miserable souls out on watch while I sat in a comfy chair and reaped the benefits of “looking busy” and doing nothing.
Sadly, I am overqualified and have been replaced by a turd chaser. It’s not that I fucked up, pissed anyone off, or did anything wrong, it’s just the Navy. And the Navy feels that a shit-seeking hillbilly with a crustache is better suited for the job.
But all hope is not lost, for my people (a.k.a. Reactor Division, my “real home”) have come to their senses, realized their terrible mistake, and have sent forth a message posthaste, requesting my presence back in the plant.
That’s right, kids, Superman is getting out of the Phantom Zone! And there’s no way it can get any worse, right? Right? Guys…?
Afishionados,
In the spirit of the opening of SAW III this Friday, I offer you this observation:
Atoosa Rubenstein was on television last night and I couldn’t help but notice that she looks just like the puppet that Jigsaw uses to torment his victims in all the SAW movies. And after watching her on television, I’m convinced the puppet has a better personality. And better hair. And hotter lips. Ooooo, just thinking about it makes me want to scream.
Afishionados,
One thing about the Abe is that you’re hardly ever alone. There are always people around, even if you don’t want them to be. This is cause for experimentation.
In our over-abundance of spare time, my friends and I sit around and try to think up random phrases to say that make no sense whatsoever when we’re in a crowd with lots of other people. We then wait for a reaction from eavesdroppers or curious folk.
Thus far, the best facial expressions and reactions have come from the following phrases (in no particular order):
“You wouldn’t have that rash if you didn’t touch yourself at night.”
“So I’m balls deep in this 8-year-old, and he has the nerve to turn around and say, ‘Is it in yet?’”
“So there I was: rubber chicken in one hand, beer in the other, and there’s blood EVERYWHERE…”
“If it wasn’t for my horse, I would have never made it through college.”1
More results as experimentation continues. Suggestions welcome.
1I’m told that Lewis Black originally said this, so we don’t claim it as our own. But it’s simply too good to pass up.
Afishionados,
Today I may have put my position as “reactor operator” in jeopardy. I’m tired of living a life without feeling so today I did something positive about it. It remains to be seen whether or not the Navy will actually be able to aid me in this endeavor, or if I will simply receive your standard issue “Eat Motrin and drink more water” treatment.
In the Navy, no one believes you if you go to someone for help with a problem. Everyone has the mentality that you’re just trying to get out of work. I hope I can get someone to believe me.
Something has got to change, or I’m not going to make it.
Afishionados,
Taco Bell, the U.S. “restaurant” chain famous for serving the same exact ingredients over and over in various shapes and sizes in attempt to stay creative in today’s competitive fast food market, has released yet another one of its “creations”. Don’t worry. As always, there is absolutely nothing new here and will therefore still taste like licking your cat’s asshole. It just looks different.
I keep seeing commercials on television for Taco Bell’s new Cheesy Gordita Crunch. I can’t escape the ads, no matter how hard I try. For some reason, Taco Bell thinks they’ve got a new winner on their hands with this one. Let’s take a closer look at what’s inside, shall we?
Yep, everything checks out and it’s nothing we haven’t seen before. It’s still just a goddamn taco like they’ve been making for years except they’ve glued it into some pita bread with some cheese. So of course people who eat Taco Bell will like this because it’s the exact same thing they’re used to eating anyway! How can they not enjoy it?
Taco Bell is retarded. They use the same nasty shit to make their “food” and then try to push it off as something I haven’t seen before. Who does Taco Bell think they are? If I want to hear the same bullshit spun around a million different ways, I’ve already got the Bush Administration. Why do I need a lousy taco joint, too? If McDonald’s decided to serve a special hamburger upside down, nobody would fall for it. Nobody. But Taco Bell can rearrange the same handful of ingredients and people are all over it.
I just don’t get it.
1.)
Afishionados,
I prefer to leave posting about SPAM e-mail up to better, more qualified bloggers but this one was just too weird to pass up.
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Everybody got that? Cuz there’s gonna be a test real soon on all this over at the local university.
Afishionados,
I hate birds. Hate ‘em. They shit all over everything and they’re all out to get me. Today, yet another one of these avian vermin bastards tried to kill me. Fortunately for me (and undoubtedly for you), I survived its malicious attempt.
Today started out as any other shitty happy Navy day. I woke up at 4, took the Navy’s finest transportation system to work, and arrived at 8. Around 8:30 this morning, I left the Pacific’s most-hated greatest aircraft carrier to make a phone call.
The shipyard workers were doing what they do best when I went to use the phone: rehearsing for STOMP. Thankfully, there are phone booths on base that almost provide some noise cancelation when making calls.
When I finished bitching about the Navy telling my parents how awesome the Navy is, I stepped out from the booth and started back for the Abe. Before I had passed the cardboard dumpster, an entire package of Keebler fudge cookies fell from the sky and all but crushed my skull. With reflexes that would make Anakin Skywalker cry with jealousy, I dodged, rolled, jumped, and lept out of the way just in the nick of time.
Once the panic left my body, I heard a sinister “laughing” noise. I looked up and there, on top of the cardboard dumpster, sat the world’s biggest seagull, mocking me. His beady little red eyes met mine and I could see that he was enraged and foaming at the beak. He was mad as hell that his murder attempt failed so miserably and that I had cheated death once more. With a powerful and satanic swoop, he lurched off the dumpster and made straight for my face.
Like a constipated woman on the toilet, I crouched down and screamed at the top of my lungs for dear life in anticipation of the oncoming pain. The gull missed me by mere inches and flew off to shit elsewhere on the base. I was left standing in a pile of my own sweat, staring at the package of cookies. I wondered how in the hell the seagull could lift such an item and where and when the dreaded beast would strike again…
Afishionados,
I’ve just been given the greatest possible news! I am so excited that I think I’ll use an exclamation mark at the end of every sentence in this post! Yes, you read it correctly, every single one!
Not too long ago, four sailors were killed in a terrible car crash! Fast forward to last Friday when the Captain himself gave a speech about drinking and driving! That same weekend, on Saturday night, three idiots from firewatch get DUI’s! But wait, it gets better! Last night, three more idiots also get three DUI’s!
Now, on Monday, instead of getting the day off like I was supposed to, I get to come in for DUI and wreckless driving training ALL DAY! WOW! And that’s not all! I get to come in for the training even though I don’t drink and drive! Isn’t that awesome?! Don’t you wish you could be so lucky, too?!
I’m so enthralled at the thought of this that I think I have shat my shorts! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to drink a case of Budweiser and get behind the wheel of my car to see how fast it will go! After all, if I have to go to the training, I should have some experience with the subject matter, right?!
FTN!
