Publish Then Edit

1. boyaux (6%)
2. monkeyfrog (6%)
3. vergeofbliss (4%)
4. foxtrotheathen (4%)
5. serenebabe1 (4%)
6. remotecontrolman (3%)
7. -bobella- (3%)
8. nturlbruntt (3%)
9. idrvfast (3%)

Monday crew.

1. womaninterrupted (5%)
2. vanpocalypse (4%)
3. soulsistrin (3%)
4. kristynibbles (3%)
5. kaonicks.com/ (3%)
6. saucepangaea (3%)
7. reignyreigny (3%)
8. itsthebrooke (3%)
9. vergeofbliss (3%)

Hump day. Meow.

1. fascinatinglydull (6%)
2. runeybadger (6%)
3. bruj (5%)
4. vergeofbliss (4%)
5. iamlucyspet (4%)
6. notonepennymore (4%)
7. kaonicks.com/ (3%)
8. openareas (3%)
9. vanpocalypse (3%)

Monday. Let’s do this.

My Tumblr Crushes:

1. jeffslastramble (7%)
2. subtleelectricfire (7%)
3. scottfriday (4%)
4. kaonicks.com/ (3%)
5. vergeofbliss (3%)
6. thisismyboard (2%)
7. fascinatinglydull (2%)
8. reignyreigny (2%)
9. underwhelmed (2%)

What a group of people!

1. notonepennymore (33%)
2. vanpocalypse (4%)
3. monkeyfrog (3%)
4. vergeofbliss (3%)
5. openareas (3%)
6. swayinganyway (2%)
7. jaymarsee (2%)
8. thejohnblog (2%)
9. womaninterrupted (2%)

Post happy birthday girl love.

1. whatshewanted (6%)
2. vergeofbliss (5%)
3. mikesnosense (5%)
4. fascinatinglydull (5%)
5. notonepennymore (5%)
6. causticgrip (3%)
7. remotecontrolman (3%)
8. bourbonismycopilot (3%)
9. lessoflittlebit (3%)

Back to work Tuesday. I could have used another day off.

1. vergeofbliss (10%)
2. iamjustcara (5%)
3. donotcallmeashley (5%)
4. dewports (5%)
5. thesassiestkitten (4%)
6. reignyreigny (3%)
7. c-peterson (3%)
8. -bobella- (3%)
9. walelawho (3%)

Fine folks to see on a Monday morning.

1. thesassiestkitten (8%)
2. jessycanhasblog (6%)
3. jeffslastramble (5%)
4. vanpocalypse (3%)
5. thisismyboard (3%)
6. winknudgesaynomo (2%)
7. dewports (2%)
8. vergeofbliss (2%)
9. underwhelmed (2%)

Friday!

1. isitsafe (5%)
2. -bobella- (4%)
3. pandemiclaughter (4%)
4. hobees-and-calveen (4%)
5. thedalepicklesproject (4%)
6. walelawho (4%)
7. vergeofbliss (3%)
8. msalohabetty (3%)
9. ryanmatthewcohn (2%)

Post weekend crushes.

The following people wonder. They wah-wah-wah-wah wonder, why. Why, why, why, why, she ran away:

1. notonepennymore (15%)
2. vergeofbliss (9%)
3. kittenonherown (8%)
4. whatshewanted (7%)
5. julierthanyou (5%)
6. bedside-manner (3%)
7. fascinatinglydull (3%)
8. -bobella- (3%)
9. mirrorscrimmage (2%)

It’s weird how things drop into your lap when you’re least expecting them. I am very pleasantly surprised though. And very, very happy.

At Fort Polk, we got together to do PT around 6:45 in the morning or so. I usually just threw on PT gear, ran the electric razor over my face and went in. I also, usually, had a large cup of ice water with me to hydrate after working out.

One morning as I was driving in, I somehow managed to dump a good portion of that water on my lap. Just - BLAM - and I had wet crotch. This was back when the Army PT uniform was still simple grey sweats so that shit was noticeable as fuck.

I had a decision to make - go in to PT and just deal with the fact that it looked like I peed myself or go home and explain to my NCO what happened. I made the wrong choice.

We did a long run that morning, past many different units, and my thinking was that the water would dry out before we ran and it wouldn’t be too noticeable. I was very wrong.

At least I provided a great deal of entertainment to a great deal of people that morning.

The following people always forget to pee before going on a long drive:

• whatshewanted
• scottfriday
• belleischrome
• nameyourgod
• notyouraverageharlot
• bedside-manner
• vergeofbliss
• pandemiclaughter
• mikesnosense

I never really stood up to my dad until I was in my 30s. Just about four years ago, in fact. I’ve long been tired of his hissy fits, but I never said anything about it. I let it go. I excused it. I just figured, if I don’t say anything, he’ll get over it.

It’s a horrible cycle of behavior.

One time he and my mom were visiting us here. We all went out to see the Dark Knight and hit a Chinese restaurant afterwards. I don’t know what we were talking about, but we were lightly jesting. Someone said something, though, that set my dad off. He got pissed, slammed his drink on the table, both making a scene and splashing soda on us, and stormed out of the restaurant.

I had had enough.

I went outside to confront him. I walked right up to him and told him point blank, “That was fucking unacceptable, you owe all of us an apology.”

He walked up, in my face like, well he’s short, so more like in my neck like, and says, “You’re not fucking getting one.”

And that defines the dark side of the males in my family. An immediate, righteous-feeling anger born of pride and immaturity. It is something I have worked all my life to overcome and only in the past couple of years do I really feel like I have any kind of control over. I STILL feel that blood boil at the back of my neck sometimes and I still have weak moments.

It sickens me because I remember how small I felt in the face of that rage. At least, until about four years ago when I finally decided that I’d had enough.

The following folks know the value of goosfraba:

• mikesnosense
• nikkidactyl
• nopantson
• vanpocalypse
• scottfriday
• vergeofbliss
• fascinatinglydull
• themattsmith
• thedude——

Once, when I was around 15, I was crashing at my best bud’s place (remotecontrolman) as I often did. We often entertained ourselves by making silly videos of different kinds of vignette sketches. Well, to say “sketch” implies more planning. It was almost always improv.

Anyway, this one night we stayed up particularly late and for some stupid reason decided to walk to the beach. It was a good three-mile hike. Easily. We walked and talked about bullshit, which is what we usually did. By the time we got to the beach, it dawned on us that we didn’t have any plans about what to do once there. It was tremendously early in the morning and there was nothing going on.

I had this girl’s number from school and gave her a call. Mind you, it’s like 3 a.m. or something. So I call and her dad answers. Rather than hang up I ask for her. He’s all, “This is a bit late for (Name) to be talking to boys on the phone.”

We wound up having to walk back to his house. It wasn’t a particularly fun evening.

Of course, I also heard it from that girl when we got back to school on Monday. I think she found it funny overall though.

The following people would walk 500 miles, but not 500 more:

• doooooglas
• openareas
• fascinatinglydull
• memiedio
• notyouraverageharlot
• nicknameless
• remotecontrolman
• mikesnosense
• vergeofbliss

We’ve got a significant change in the lineup, folks:

• nikkidactyl
• exit417
• iknowitsheresomewhere
• nameyourgod
• runeybadger
• big-mister-c
• jessycanhasblog
• finallychelle
• vergeofbliss

I think if you’re going to be active, you have your favorite kind of exercise, or, at the very least, your least disliked exercise. When I was in the Army, I most enjoyed ruck marching.

One time on Okinawa, our training NCO, myself and two other people went out to a training area to do a practice march, testing a route to see how it would go for the entire company. It was a 10-mile march and we were carrying about 75 pounds (mostly in sandbags).

The first few miles went fine. We were all pretty chipper. We were out of the office for the day, taking, essentially, a hike out in northern Okinawa. Well, all of us except the training NCO. He went out the night before and drank way too much. The first few miles was OK, but he was sweating pretty quickly after we got going. 

Halfway in, we stopped for a little break for snacks and hydration. After 20 minutes or so, we get start getting our gear back on. The training NCO tells me and another soldier to go on ahead and he and the other soldier will catch up. We shrug and move out.

After five minutes or so, he and the other soldier catch back up with us. We finish the march, but by the end we are dead. Just beat the fuck down. Our first sergeant met us at the end of the march with a big van and I’d never been happier to see one of those bland, white whales before in my life. We dumped all our gear, drank tons of water and Gatorade and then loaded our stuff into the van.

Well, a couple of us did anyway. Me and one other soldier loaded our rucks sacks in the back. I threw mine up and then grabbed the training NCO’s bag. I got a good grip on it and yanked it up expecting it to be as heavy as mine. I almost threw it over the van. 

Seems the training NCO dumped his sandbags when the other soldier and I went off ahead. Bastard.

A couple of surprises here:

• nicknameless
• notyouraverageharlot
• mikesnosense
• slobaum
• nameyourgod
• vergeofbliss
• womaninterrupted
• pandemiclaughter
• thisguyles