...We'd been out in the field for about 45 days, back in 1995, and Captain Reinstra had decided to quit by not bringing smokes to the exercise. He lasted about a week, and then began mooching smokes off of the crew of his Bradley. That would mean the only two smokers in his Bradley, which was my buddy Lampshade and myself.
Needless to say, we ran out before the field problem did.
Lampshade and I came in with the main recovery, about 6 hours after the command element came in for the debriefing. We were wet, covered in Texas mud, tired as hell, and ready to kill for a cigarette.
And there on the steps to the CP was Captain Reinstra and the XO, smoking and joking. Lampshade and I walked up to them, saluted, and then I reached out and unbuttoned the pocket of the captain's nice clean uniform jacket.
Now, the captain was used to Lampshade and I, so he just stood and stared at me, while I took two smokes out of his pack, placed the pack back in his pocket, lit our smokes with his zippo, replaced it, and buttoned up his pocket.
"I can't believe you just did that", he said.
"Oh, sorry, sir, had you wanted another one?"
He just laughed, and went into the CP. The XO, a notorious cheese-eater, glared at us and followed him.
The next morning, we were told to fall out in BDUs rather than our PT uniform. It seems the XO had decided to send us to Community Mental Health Services (CMHS), based on the cigarette incident and on the infamous "Barbie Dance" event, earlier in the field problem, to be evaluated.
Lampshade and I jumped in my car, and went over to CMHS. Now, you have to understand that we both loved the army, and here we are surrounded by a pile of people trying to whine their way out of the army. We had a little fun with the drips in the processing area, until it was time to be screened, prior to speaking with the psychiatrist.
After a half hour or so, we were directed to a "round robin" of screening stations, where enlisted personnel would test us for intelligence, sanity, and whether or not the actual problem was booze or just simple malingering.
The first station I sat at was manned by a young female specialist who looked like someone had stapled duffel bags to her chest. With a smile, she said "Okay, corporal, this is a word association test. I'm going to say a word, and you say the
very first thing that comes into your mind."
"Okay."
"Basketball."
What could I do? I looked at her chest and said "Tits."
She blushed, a little angry, and said, "Um, okay, 'pencil'".
"Tits."
"How did you get 'tits' from pencil?", she hissed under her breath.
"Well, when I have a pencil, I doodle. When I doodle, I tend to draw porn."
She got up and walked away. A few tables over, some PFC screener was yelling incoherently at Lampshade, who was giggling like a schoolgirl. Don't know why.
A minute or so later, I was moved to the next station. A SPC4 gave me a speculative glance, and said "Okay, corporal, I'm going to administer a Rorshak test."
"If you shock me, I'm going to kick your arse up between your ears, kid."
"No, no, it's a test where I show you an image, and you tell me what it reminds you of."
"Okay."
He held up the first inkblot, and asked me what I thought.
"I think someone ruined your picture. There's nothing there but a big blob of ink."
"Yes, well, what does that blob of ink make you think?"
"It makes me think your pen broke."
"NO, WHAT...um, what does the shape of that blob of ink remind you of?"
"Oh, I see how this works. It reminds me of a puppy."
"A puppy?"
"A
dead puppy. All covered in maggots."
He began to furiously write things down.
"Okay, how about this one?"
"It reminds me of my mom."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I
hate my mom."
More writing.
"How about this one?"
"That's two elephants raping a dead goat on a waterbed full of jello."
"You're fucking with me."
"What was your first clue?", I asked, with a shit-eating grin on my face.
He got up and stormed off. I looked over, and Lampshade was dancing for the screener he was speaking to. The screener looked horrified, and he, too, walked off.
A moment later, the door to the inner office opened up, and a major - the actual psychiatrist - stuck his head out and pointed at Lampshade and I.
"You two. In here NOW."
We walked into his office and stood at attention. He looked us over and asked, "Why are you two assholes fucking with my people?"
"Sir?"
"Don't play stupid, corporal. I know you didn't ask to come here."
"Sir, your people asked us questions. We answered. I don't see the problem, here."
The major spent a couple of minutes writing, and then handed us each a report.
"Return these to your battalion aid station, then report to duty. Make sure they get there sealed."
After we got in my car, we opened the envelopes (
Remember, soldiers, the glue-stick can be your best friend!), and read the following on each of our reports:
QuoteServicemember has no signs of mental illness. Servicemember is simply an asshole.
I looked at Lampshade, who looked like he was having an orgasm, and said "Do you realize what this means?"
"THIS...MEANS...WE...CAN...DO...ANYTHING WE FUCKING WANT!"
We both laughed ourselves silly, then resealed the envelopes and drove back to the unit.
The next day, I skipped PT, and came down for the duty formation, unshaven, wearing a pair of cut off jeans and a Hawaiian shirt. The first sergeant was screaming at Lampshade, who had his uniform on backwards...He saw me, and his jaw started working like the mouth of a fish out of water. He turned an alarming shade of purple.
"Now, hang on, Top" I said, "We can't help ourselves. We're assholes."
"It's in our medical records", Lampshade added helpfully.
Now, to make a long story a little shorter, we acted like complete fucking morons for the 3 weeks it took to get the medical profile expunged.
Did we pay and pay and PAY for months afterward? Oh, yes.
Was it worth it? Oh, HELL yes. No soldier worth his salt could EVER haved turned down a chance like that. Lampshade in fact got promoted partly because of this, but that's another story.
Or Kill Me.
helpless with laughter.......
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on February 04, 2011, 07:41:49 PM
...We'd been out in the field for about 45 days, back in 1995, and Captain Reinstra had decided to quit by not bringing smokes to the exercise. He lasted about a week, and then began mooching smokes off of the crew of his Bradley. That would mean the only two smokers in his Bradley, which was my buddy Lampshade and myself.
Needless to say, we ran out before the field problem did.
Lampshade and I came in with the main recovery, about 6 hours after the command element came in for the debriefing. We were wet, covered in Texas mud, tired as hell, and ready to kill for a cigarette.
And there on the steps to the CP was Captain Reinstra and the XO, smoking and joking. Lampshade and I walked up to them, saluted, and then I reached out and unbuttoned the pocket of the captain's nice clean uniform jacket.
Now, the captain was used to Lampshade and I, so he just stood and stared at me, while I took two smokes out of his pack, placed the pack back in his pocket, lit our smokes with his zippo, replaced it, and buttoned up his pocket.
"I can't believe you just did that", he said.
"Oh, sorry, sir, had you wanted another one?"
He just laughed, and went into the CP. The XO, a notorious cheese-eater, glared at us and followed him.
The next morning, we were told to fall out in BDUs rather than our PT uniform. It seems the XO had decided to send us to Community Mental Health Services (CMHS), based on the cigarette incident and on the infamous "Barbie Dance" event, earlier in the field problem, to be evaluated.
Lampshade and I jumped in my car, and went over to CMHS. Now, you have to understand that we both loved the army, and here we are surrounded by a pile of people trying to whine their way out of the army. We had a little fun with the drips in the processing area, until it was time to be screened, prior to speaking with the psychiatrist.
After a half hour or so, we were directed to a "round robin" of screening stations, where enlisted personnel would test us for intelligence, sanity, and whether or not the actual problem was booze or just simple malingering.
The first station I sat at was manned by a young female specialist who looked like someone had stapled duffel bags to her chest. With a smile, she said "Okay, corporal, this is a word association test. I'm going to say a word, and you say the very first thing that comes into your mind."
"Okay."
"Basketball."
What could I do? I looked at her chest and said "Tits."
She blushed, a little angry, and said, "Um, okay, 'pencil'".
"Tits."
"How did you get 'tits' from pencil?", she hissed under her breath.
"Well, when I have a pencil, I doodle. When I doodle, I tend to draw porn."
She got up and walked away. A few tables over, some PFC screener was yelling incoherently at Lampshade, who was giggling like a schoolgirl. Don't know why.
A minute or so later, I was moved to the next station. A SPC4 gave me a speculative glance, and said "Okay, corporal, I'm going to administer a Rorshak test."
"If you shock me, I'm going to kick your arse up between your ears, kid."
"No, no, it's a test where I show you an image, and you tell me what it reminds you of."
"Okay."
He held up the first inkblot, and asked me what I thought.
"I think someone ruined your picture. There's nothing there but a big blob of ink."
"Yes, well, what does that blob of ink make you think?"
"It makes me think your pen broke."
"NO, WHAT...um, what does the shape of that blob of ink remind you of?"
"Oh, I see how this works. It reminds me of a puppy."
"A puppy?"
"A dead puppy. All covered in maggots."
He began to furiously write things down.
"Okay, how about this one?"
"It reminds me of my mom."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I hate my mom."
More writing.
"How about this one?"
"That's two elephants raping a dead goat on a waterbed full of jello."
"You're fucking with me."
"What was your first clue?", I asked, with a shit-eating grin on my face.
He got up and stormed off. I looked over, and Lampshade was dancing for the screener he was speaking to. The screener looked horrified, and he, too, walked off.
A moment later, the door to the inner office opened up, and a major - the actual psychiatrist - stuck his head out and pointed at Lampshade and I.
"You two. In here NOW."
We walked into his office and stood at attention. He looked us over and asked, "Why are you two assholes fucking with my people?"
"Sir?"
"Don't play stupid, corporal. I know you didn't ask to come here."
"Sir, your people asked us questions. We answered. I don't see the problem, here."
The major spent a couple of minutes writing, and then handed us each a report.
"Return these to your battalion aid station, then report to duty. Make sure they get there sealed."
After we got in my car, we opened the envelopes (Remember, soldiers, the glue-stick can be your best friend!), and read the following on each of our reports:
QuoteServicemember has no signs of mental illness. Servicemember is simply an asshole.
I looked at Lampshade, who looked like he was having an orgasm, and said "Do you realize what this means?"
"THIS...MEANS...WE...CAN...DO...ANYTHING WE FUCKING WANT!"
We both laughed ourselves silly, then resealed the envelopes and drove back to the unit.
The next day, I skipped PT, and came down for the duty formation, unshaven, wearing a pair of cut off jeans and a Hawaiian shirt. The first sergeant was screaming at Lampshade, who had his uniform on backwards...He saw me, and his jaw started working like the mouth of a fish out of water. He turned an alarming shade of purple.
"Now, hang on, Top" I said, "We can't help ourselves. We're assholes."
"It's in our medical records", Lampshade added helpfully.
Now, to make a long story a little shorter, we acted like complete fucking morons for the 3 weeks it took to get the medical profile expunged.
Did we pay and pay and PAY for months afterward? Oh, yes.
Was it worth it? Oh, HELL yes. No soldier worth his salt could EVER haved turned down a chance like that. Lampshade in fact got promoted partly because of this, but that's another story.
Or Kill Me.
My jaw had a rather pleasant meeting with my desk just now.
:lulz:
Awesome.
I swear, I have never run across a forum that's made me laugh as much as this one has. Thanks, guys.
... And he back of my head just had a less pleasant meeting with the floor. I may need a new chair... I hope I don't have to pay for this one. :oops:
Quote from: Doktor Phox on February 04, 2011, 07:55:09 PM
... And he back of my head just had a less pleasant meeting with the floor. I may need a new chair... I hope I don't have to pay for this one. :oops:
My plan! It is working!
TGRR,
Brooks no competition.
Rog, that's the best army tale of asshattery I've heard yet! Bravo! And Lampshade sounds like quite the character; did you ever find out what he was giggling over during the tests?
I suggest you make this into one of the MSY comics.
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on February 04, 2011, 07:56:52 PM
Quote from: Doktor Phox on February 04, 2011, 07:55:09 PM
... And he back of my head just had a less pleasant meeting with the floor. I may need a new chair... I hope I don't have to pay for this one. :oops:
My plan! It is working!
TGRR,
Brooks no competition.
:lulz:
Quote from: LMNO, PhD on February 04, 2011, 08:13:18 PM
I suggest you make this into one of the MSY comics.
The same thought occurred to me.
Best. Story. Evar. <3
Hahaha Now that would have been actually awesome to behold.
CANT
FUCKING
BREATHE
:lulz:
Mind if I forward this to my father? He LOVES stories like this.
Quote from: Jenne on February 04, 2011, 08:09:41 PM
Rog, that's the best army tale of asshattery I've heard yet! Bravo! And Lampshade sounds like quite the character; did you ever find out what he was giggling over during the tests?
No, with Lampshade, there are some things you're just better off not knowing. This is the guy who took over the brigade command frequency at NTC and sang Christmas carols for a half hour, after all.
Quote from: Richter on February 04, 2011, 09:04:57 PM
CANT
FUCKING
BREATHE
:lulz:
Mind if I forward this to my father? He LOVES stories like this.
Go ahead.
Quote from: LMNO, PhD on February 04, 2011, 08:13:18 PM
I suggest you make this into one of the MSY comics.
I agree. At the rate I'm flying on that, it should be ready for publication in 2050.
(No, that's not a shot at Suu. MSY 3 & 4 are in tandem, and they're dead in the water, too.)
Dear god I think I just coughed up fucking lung!! Roger, it would be a crime not to make this into an MSY issue.
Thank you, this made my day!!!
Roger, you (and your buddy Lampshade) are fucking AWESOME. :mittens:
hahahah! way to cram the bureaucracy right back up their asses, Rog.
:mittens:
Quote from: Cramulus on February 04, 2011, 09:42:38 PM
hahahah! way to cram the bureaucracy right back up their asses, Rog.
:mittens:
Penrose's 2nd Law of Bureaucracy: For every regulation, there is an equal and opposite regulation.
Colollary: It's not the highest rank that runs a bureaucracy, it's the person who knows the most regulations. Once you reach a certain threshold of knowledge, the system belongs to you.
This is the 3nd secret of having a happy military career.
Thanks I needed that after getting reamed by my piece of shit NCOIC because I failed to follow her extremely vague directions on cleaning my clean room.
Your stories almost make me want to stay in.
Quote from: Canis latrans eques on February 04, 2011, 09:48:34 PM
Thanks I needed that after getting reamed by my piece of shit NCOIC because I failed to follow her extremely vague directions on cleaning my clean room.
Your stories almost make me want to stay in.
Don't buck the system,
use the system.
You have to learn where the handles are. Then it becomes
fun.
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on February 04, 2011, 09:52:04 PM
Quote from: Canis latrans eques on February 04, 2011, 09:48:34 PM
Thanks I needed that after getting reamed by my piece of shit NCOIC because I failed to follow her extremely vague directions on cleaning my clean room.
Your stories almost make me want to stay in.
Don't buck the system, use the system.
You have to learn where the handles are. Then it becomes fun.
This rat chair.
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on February 04, 2011, 09:52:04 PM
Quote from: Canis latrans eques on February 04, 2011, 09:48:34 PM
Thanks I needed that after getting reamed by my piece of shit NCOIC because I failed to follow her extremely vague directions on cleaning my clean room.
Your stories almost make me want to stay in.
Don't buck the system, use the system.
You have to learn where the handles are. Then it becomes fun.
I know.
This story is simply glorious. Reminds me of several of my dad's Navy stories. I read Catch-22 at a precociously young age and always assumed that Yossarian was based on my father until I did the math one day and realized that my dad would have been 6 years old at the end of WW2.
:mittens:
Quote from: Canis latrans eques on February 04, 2011, 09:55:30 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on February 04, 2011, 09:52:04 PM
Quote from: Canis latrans eques on February 04, 2011, 09:48:34 PM
Thanks I needed that after getting reamed by my piece of shit NCOIC because I failed to follow her extremely vague directions on cleaning my clean room.
Your stories almost make me want to stay in.
Don't buck the system, use the system.
You have to learn where the handles are. Then it becomes fun.
I know.
See, here's the deal: It's not just the military that's like this, it's the whole fucking world. I am 42, and I run a crew of people that have been in the trades since before I was born. They worked hard, I used the system. See where I'm going with this?
The military is a huge stupid beast, and expecting it to be fair - or even make sense - will frustrate the hell out of you. On the other hand, if you get your Discordia on, and learn to move WITH the stupid, rather than trying to move the stupid, you'll get along much better.
I have a couple of dozen rules in a file at home, and I'll post them if you want. They work in ANY bureaucracy. The most important 5 are:
1. It's only guard mount/pushups/meaningless work/punishment detail. They probably won't actually kill me, and it will eventually end, and I'll have fun again. If you're afraid of pushups or weekend duty, you're going to be miserable. Besides, once you have that attitude, they stop fucking with you. It's amazing.
2. It doesn't make sense, because it wasn't designed to make sense. It was designed to give money to contractors and fuel the local economy. Any other purpose is secondary, so don't get too excited.
3. Learn the handles. Steer the system. Don't try to buck it.
4. Lie like a mad bastard, but only about big things. Being honest about little things gives you credibility with your superiors, who will assume that nobody would ever be stupid enough to lie about big things (IMPORTANT EXCEPTION: NEVER LIE TO AN NCO. MISLEAD, BUT NEVER DIRECTLY LIE. Officers are stupid, and you can lie all you please. You'll know who the exceptions are.)
5. Smiling - especially predatory smiles and shit-eating grins - keep trouble away. Like any other human interaction, people pile on people who look like easy targets, and being upset (angry, miserable, etc) makes you look like an easy target. If someone asks you why you're smiling, tell them "Every day is a vacation, and every meal is a feast."
Well fuck I do the first 4 already. I guess I just need to get my grin on.
:mittens:
Quote from: Canis latrans eques on February 04, 2011, 10:13:00 PM
Well fuck I do the first 4 already. I guess I just need to get my grin on.
A positive attitude is like a suit of armor in the military, no joke.
I think this one is in a dead even tie with MSY21 as my favorite.
Quote from: Charley Brown on February 04, 2011, 11:04:52 PM
I think this one is in a dead even tie with MSY21 as my favorite.
I miss that old man. :cry:
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on February 04, 2011, 11:05:35 PM
Quote from: Charley Brown on February 04, 2011, 11:04:52 PM
I think this one is in a dead even tie with MSY21 as my favorite.
I miss that old man. :cry:
I could have listened to him for hours!
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on February 04, 2011, 10:05:53 PM
5. Smiling - especially predatory smiles and shit-eating grins - keep trouble away. Like any other human interaction, people pile on people who look like easy targets, and being upset (angry, miserable, etc) makes you look like an easy target. If someone asks you why you're smiling, tell them "Every day is a vacation, and every meal is a feast."
I don't suppose you could explain those two smiles to me, or maybe have pics of them? I've heard the expressions before, but I'm a bit facial expression impaired and its never occurred to me that I could use such things.
Roger, I almost spit all over my monitor and choked on what was left.
:mittens:
Quote from: Requia ☣ on February 05, 2011, 01:48:59 AM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on February 04, 2011, 10:05:53 PM
5. Smiling - especially predatory smiles and shit-eating grins - keep trouble away. Like any other human interaction, people pile on people who look like easy targets, and being upset (angry, miserable, etc) makes you look like an easy target. If someone asks you why you're smiling, tell them "Every day is a vacation, and every meal is a feast."
I don't suppose you could explain those two smiles to me, or maybe have pics of them? I've heard the expressions before, but I'm a bit facial expression impaired and its never occurred to me that I could use such things.
(http://i476.photobucket.com/albums/rr126/TGRR/squiddy.jpg)
:mittens: That was fucking awesome, Roger.
Is that the predatory?
Quote from: Requia ☣ on February 05, 2011, 01:59:24 AM
Is that the predatory?
Yes, in Florida.
This is the shit-eating variety:
:bob:
Thanks Roger.
Dammit, Roger. Suu just read this story, sitting in my kitchen.
I now have to mop the floor, and my chair is a total loss.
Thanks.
Quote from: Luna on February 05, 2011, 05:05:56 AM
Dammit, Roger. Suu just read this story, sitting in my kitchen.
I now have to mop the floor, and my chair is a total loss.
Thanks.
I also do weddings.
There goes my last pair of clean spankies.
Quote from: Suu on February 05, 2011, 05:43:31 AM
There goes my last pair of clean spankies.
:lulz:
Laughing like a motherfucker! I'm going to spend the rest of the day emailing this to pretty much everyone in western civilisation :lulz:
:mittens:
me and payne now have a good chuckle to go with our hangovers.
And then I realized that Roger could be Crazy Awesome like the best of them. :mittens: :lulz:
There needs to be a goddamn medal for people who pull shit like the OP. :lulz:
TGRR, those five rules are essentially what I've used to get away with being on PD 8 hours a day and still getting raises.
Hey Roger, this (http://skippyslist.com/list/) isn't Lampshade, is it? I couldn't help noticing a reference to a Barbie Girl Dance.
149. Must not create new DOD forms, then insist they be filled out.
And just so everyone is aware. I am going to be doing this after getting inspired by my "UnSecret" labels.
:lulz:
(http://img211.imageshack.us/img211/6875/assholerog.jpg)
:mittens:
Quote from: Unqualified on February 06, 2011, 06:26:00 PM
Hey Roger, this (http://skippyslist.com/list/) isn't Lampshade, is it? I couldn't help noticing a reference to a Barbie Girl Dance.
No. The Barbie dance is an old, old army joke.
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on February 07, 2011, 01:05:51 AM
Quote from: Unqualified on February 06, 2011, 06:26:00 PM
Hey Roger, this (http://skippyslist.com/list/) isn't Lampshade, is it? I couldn't help noticing a reference to a Barbie Girl Dance.
No. The Barbie dance is an old, old army joke.
Ah.
relevant
(http://www.marriedtothesea.com/012711/good-news-for-you.gif)
Bumping. There's valuable and useful material in this thread, and the OP is a good read.
Hey Roger, you wouldn't happen to still have the rest of those rules for dealing with bureaucracy on file, would you?
This is one of my favorites. :)
Ditto! :D
Thanks for the bumpage. I needed this again.
Incidentally, I have reestablished contact with Lampshade, who is now - amazingly - an E7.
He is also a fucking teabagger. :sad:
Quote from: Doktor Howl on July 02, 2011, 07:58:00 AM
Incidentally, I have reestablished contact with Lampshade, who is now - amazingly - an E7.
He is also a fucking teabagger. :sad:
Oh, man, I'm so sorry...
Quote from: Doktor Howl on July 02, 2011, 07:58:00 AM
Incidentally, I have reestablished contact with Lampshade, who is now - amazingly - an E7.
He is also a fucking teabagger. :sad:
:cry:
Quote from: Doktor Howl on July 02, 2011, 07:58:00 AM
Incidentally, I have reestablished contact with Lampshade, who is now - amazingly - an E7.
He is also a fucking teabagger. :sad:
The teabaggers actually need more of his kind joining their ranks, afaic.
To wit; a quote in The West Wing (which I can't remember the exact wording of right now) which goes along the lines of "I can't see why your type [liberals] don't just join the NRA en masse, and vote to change their position from
within the organisation".
To be sure, he probably isn't exactly doing that type of thing, but shuffling jokers into everyones decks is something we should push for.
Quote from: Payne on July 02, 2011, 07:36:57 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on July 02, 2011, 07:58:00 AM
Incidentally, I have reestablished contact with Lampshade, who is now - amazingly - an E7.
He is also a fucking teabagger. :sad:
The teabaggers actually need more of his kind joining their ranks, afaic.
To wit; a quote in The West Wing (which I can't remember the exact wording of right now) which goes along the lines of "I can't see why your type [liberals] don't just join the NRA en masse, and vote to change their position from within the organisation".
To be sure, he probably isn't exactly doing that type of thing, but shuffling jokers into everyones decks is something we should push for.
No, he pretty much whines about Obama and teh GAYZ.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on July 02, 2011, 07:44:09 PM
Quote from: Payne on July 02, 2011, 07:36:57 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on July 02, 2011, 07:58:00 AM
Incidentally, I have reestablished contact with Lampshade, who is now - amazingly - an E7.
He is also a fucking teabagger. :sad:
The teabaggers actually need more of his kind joining their ranks, afaic.
To wit; a quote in The West Wing (which I can't remember the exact wording of right now) which goes along the lines of "I can't see why your type [liberals] don't just join the NRA en masse, and vote to change their position from within the organisation".
To be sure, he probably isn't exactly doing that type of thing, but shuffling jokers into everyones decks is something we should push for.
No, he pretty much whines about Obama and teh GAYZ.
That is sad. You should confess your undying love for him and see what happens.
Quote from: Cardinal Pizza Deliverance. on July 02, 2011, 07:55:17 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on July 02, 2011, 07:44:09 PM
Quote from: Payne on July 02, 2011, 07:36:57 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on July 02, 2011, 07:58:00 AM
Incidentally, I have reestablished contact with Lampshade, who is now - amazingly - an E7.
He is also a fucking teabagger. :sad:
The teabaggers actually need more of his kind joining their ranks, afaic.
To wit; a quote in The West Wing (which I can't remember the exact wording of right now) which goes along the lines of "I can't see why your type [liberals] don't just join the NRA en masse, and vote to change their position from within the organisation".
To be sure, he probably isn't exactly doing that type of thing, but shuffling jokers into everyones decks is something we should push for.
No, he pretty much whines about Obama and teh GAYZ.
That is sad. You should confess your undying love for him and see what happens.
For SCIENCE!!!
Quote from: Doktor Howl on July 02, 2011, 07:58:00 AM
Incidentally, I have reestablished contact with Lampshade, who is now - amazingly - an E7.
He is also a fucking teabagger. :sad:
Teabaggers. :lol:
It won't be long before more teabaggers are trolls than aren't. Seriously. I applied for that job; it doesn't pay well, but it does pay.
:mittens:!!!
Bump. Because it still make me giggle like a loon.
:lulz: I still love that you were evaluated and found to be medically an asshole.
Quote from: A Very Hairy Monkey In An Ill-Fitting Tunic on September 21, 2012, 08:24:24 PM
:lulz: I still love that you were evaluated and found to be medically an asshole.
I should have probably have stopped at the batallion aid station and asked what the identifying symptoms were.
Quote from: Fidel Castro on September 21, 2012, 08:28:16 PM
Quote from: A Very Hairy Monkey In An Ill-Fitting Tunic on September 21, 2012, 08:24:24 PM
:lulz: I still love that you were evaluated and found to be medically an asshole.
I should have probably have stopped at the batallion aid station and asked what the identifying symptoms were.
Oh damn, YES.
Quote from: A Very Hairy Monkey In An Ill-Fitting Tunic on September 21, 2012, 08:40:10 PM
Quote from: Fidel Castro on September 21, 2012, 08:28:16 PM
Quote from: A Very Hairy Monkey In An Ill-Fitting Tunic on September 21, 2012, 08:24:24 PM
:lulz: I still love that you were evaluated and found to be medically an asshole.
I should have probably have stopped at the batallion aid station and asked what the identifying symptoms were.
Oh damn, YES.
"Sir, could you please tell me what the TILTS diagnosis of "you're an asshole" consists of? Thanks."
Quote from: Fidel Castro on September 21, 2012, 08:41:45 PM
Quote from: A Very Hairy Monkey In An Ill-Fitting Tunic on September 21, 2012, 08:40:10 PM
Quote from: Fidel Castro on September 21, 2012, 08:28:16 PM
Quote from: A Very Hairy Monkey In An Ill-Fitting Tunic on September 21, 2012, 08:24:24 PM
:lulz: I still love that you were evaluated and found to be medically an asshole.
I should have probably have stopped at the batallion aid station and asked what the identifying symptoms were.
Oh damn, YES.
"Sir, could you please tell me what the TILTS diagnosis of "you're an asshole" consists of? Thanks."
:lulz: :lulz:
Still find this to be exceedingly awesome.