Typical Day

At the request of one of my buddies, who I will call Been-Jammin I am going to write about a typical day of work in 5th platoon. We have what is a well persona-balanced group of people. You all already know much of how Sergeant Trenches is and you can always read more about what goes on in his head at sgttrenches.blogspot.com. There is also Been-Jammin a Caribbean Islander who will not refrain from speaking his mind; Do-ham is southerner from Tennessee with the typical hick accent and lack of a social filter which results with many insults being thrown around carelessly; Jackoff-HandsOn a stupid bitch who claims to have PTSD(although she has not seen combat for shit) and will blab away refusing to shut her fucking trap as well as being known for being a nasty whore(you may have read about in "Me a Jody?!? No, Not Really, So It's Ok;" she is the fucktard who was looking at dildos on my computer); Ski is a fucking guinea from Boston, or Rhode Island, I do not really know; Tammy is actually a male who earned his nickname by putting Sergeant Trenches and their squad leader Staff Sergeant Dizzle through many frustrating days of emotion and self-pity; Stretch as you may know from my entry, "Problematic Roommates," is still a worthless piece of shit waste of taxpaying dollars; Monkey, the blackest guy I have ever met; 3Speed is a female who came to the unit always moving slow, earning her the nickname 1Speed, but after engaging in a relationship with well liked soldier, Bus, has shifted gears into being a "high-speed" soldier, though she still seems to suffer from narcolepsy; Tomboy whom Sergeant Trenches tried to date, but you can read about that failure yourself(http://sgttrenches.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html); Black Magic who is well, just pimp; there also a handful of others in my platoon, but they are typical, boring people that whine and bitch like every other day, or are just people that have not done much yet to earn a place in my blog.

The plan for the day was to wake up, draw weapons, and head to the motorpool for hours of work and inspections. Well it is not really a typical day considering we did not have PT, but the work we did is quite orthodox to us. In case you do not know what a layout is or are unfamiliar with this military practice, imagine a large shed in the middle of a parking lot, and having to take everything out of that shed and organize it neatly in the parking lot; we had much to layout including: troop tents, camo nets, poles for the camo nets, car jacks, a myriad of 5 gallon water containers, many spools of commo wire and field phones; yeah, fuck my life. This is the course of not-so-funny-but-still-humorous-in-a-way events that took place.


4:20am: My alarm goes off. Fuck my life.

4:56: After putting on my uniform, and spending time cleaning the mess Stretch- that dirty fucking douchebag-made in my room, I walk outside with all my gear and realize that Been-Jammin took off without me, thinking I left really early. Fuck my life.

5:03: Been-Jammin returned to pick me up and we arrive at the company to draw weapons and have our ID cards and dogtags inspected.

5:05: I clear my weapon. Been-Jammin makes his first vulgar comment against Jacksoff-HandsOn for the day. "That fucking nasty whore; why is she drawing a weapon? Is she gonna say she's gonna kill herself again? I fucking hope so; nasty stupid bitch." I laugh.

5:06: Breger, the training operations soldier is inspecting our ID cards; she is being the usual cunt that she is; I make a wish that she dies lonely, and fatter than she is now.

5:40: We put all our weapons, plus some CBRN equipment in a humvee and carpool to the motorpool.

5:41: On our way to the motorpool, Been-Jammin makes his second comment of the day. "Looking at Jacksoff-HandsOn makes me hate life. I wish someone would run her over." I say, "No Balls." He says, "I wish I had the balls to do it." I laugh.

5:55: Hot chow arrives. While I am sitting down eating next to Ski and Been-Jammin, he makes his third comment for the day. "Look at Jacksoff-HandsOn, she just sits there pretending to be part of other people's conversations; that nasty whore." Ski and I laugh.

6:00: I shoot the shit talking to one of our supply specialists and a buddy from 6th platoon. He says that the supply specialist is the sham king. I say, "If Mendoza is the sham king, then Monkey must be the god." We laugh at the acknowledgement of Monkey being lazy.

6:10: We begin pulling all the shit out of our conex(the shed) for the next few hours. We work quite quickly and efficiently; I am impressed with our teamwork.
Been-Jammin states how he wants to take down("fuck") Tomboy. I laugh.

9:35: After working for hours to get everything out of the conex and organize it in the motorpool, we all sit down and take a break. Black Magic makes a comment about Jacksoff-HandsOn possibly educing a comment out of Been-Jammin. However, my squad leader anticipates it and motions to Been-Jammin not to say anything. We all laugh. We disperse a bit to talk amongst ourselves. I sing a verse from "Business Time" by Flight of the Conchords. Been-Jammin laughs.

9:50: Some of the guys start talking about Jacksoff-HandsOn. Monkey makes false accusations about some of the guys in our platoon fucking her. Been-Jammin talks to me about his frustration from Monkey accusing him of fucking Jacksoff-HandsOn. I recall a conversation with Monkey a few months back and tell Been-Jammin, giving him a chance to have the upper hand. This conversation occurs:

Monkey: Tttelllla I'm telling you, we all know you fucked her.
Been-Jammin: You wanna keep talking shit?
Monkey: I'm just saying the truth.
Been-Jammin: Is that so? Well I clearly remember you saying one day, "Damn she's trying to fuck another guy in the condemned barracks again? Last night she was in my room trying to play with my dick."

Everyone laughs.

Monkey: What?!?! I didn't fucking say that!
Been-Jammin: Bullshit. I can call out someone here who was also there when you said it.
Monkey: Do it then, call him out.
Been-Jammin: Tell him airborne.
Me: You fucking monkey ethiopian. Don't lie.
Everyone: HAAHAHAAAAHHHAHAHAHA!!!
Monkey: This is bullshit! That didn't happen!
Me: Is that so? Wait. Can I actually see you blushing under all that black, dark monkey skin of yours?
Everyone: HAHAHAHAHAAHA!

10:30: We begin laying out all our gear and uniforms for inspection. I realize I forgot my PT belt. Fuck my life. Do-ham notices that Jacksoff-HandsOn is the only idiot laying her stuff out different from the rest of us. Been-Jammin makes his fourth comment of the day; "That stupid bitch. I would steal her shit, but it probably smells like motorpussy!" I laugh. I still do not know what motorpussy means. Fucking islanders crack me up haha. Tammy says he has an extra PT belt; I say I need it, but Jacksof-HandsOn claims she called it first and rushes her pygmy ass to grab it. Fuck her. I am pissed, considering I let Tammy borrow Luigi's e-tool for a month and had to stop Luigi from kicking his ass for not returning it. Fuck Tammy. He is not getting my help ever again. He can cry and whine like he always does. Sorry Trenches, I know you are his team leader and all, but fuck Tammy and his self-pity.

11:00: Sheeny, the only Jewish soldier in our platoon brings me my PT belt. I make a mental note to spare his life and soul in the future. If only he would adopt daily hygiene practices, Sheeny would be a decent soldier. First Sergeant inspects my layout and does not say a thing. I rule.

12:00pm: We pack up all our gear and go to lunch. Been-Jammin makes what is possibly his fifteenth comment about Jacksoff-HandsOn; I lost count. "Look at that nasty whore trying to get a ride from 3Speed. Doesn't 3Speed know her car is now going to smell like nasty cunt?" I laugh. After I finish eating lunch, I call Domino's Pizza to order some food for the squad leaders; they always looks out for me, encourage and motivate me to do my best, ordering them some pizza is the least I can do. Lo and behold, my one night stand answers the phone. She thanks me again for a fun night and resultingly, I only pay seven dollars to have two medium pizzas and a bottle of soda to be delivered to the motorpool.

12:45: The pizza arrives and remembering that Tomboy did not eat lunch, I decide to take the food to the sergeants first, hoping they will devour it before she goes to them. I drop off the food, then go tell Tomboy there is pizza in the office. The sergeants devoured it instantly. Success as I hoped. That is what Tomboy gets for being a fucking tease with my friend, Trenches, and for lying about things Been-Jammin did because she wants to pretend to be a squad leader and says she is "looking out for her soldier(Jacksoff-HandsOn)." Whatever fucktard. Squad Leader my ass. I clearly remember our Sergeant Major and First Sergeant determining she does not have the knowledge or military bearing deeming her to be in a promotable status to the rank of Sergeant. Dream on you useless bitch.

1:00: The rest of our equipment is inspected. We do pretty good. Our vehicle dispatches are fucked. It is Tammy's fault. He likes to take responsibility of that task but fucks it up like he fucks his life up. Everytime I see Trenches, I sing a verse of "Business Time." He always laughs. Black Magic's phone rings several times throughout the day playing, "American Boy" by Estelle. I feel motivated. For the rest of the day I decide I am going to sing the same lyrics from Gwen Stefani's song, "Hollaback Girl." 6th platoon laughs everytime they hear me go, "The shit is bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S. THE SHIT IS BANANAS! B-A-N-A-N-A-S! The shit is bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S. THE SHIT IS BANANAS! B-A-N-A-N-A-S! Few times been around that track, so it's not just gonna happen like that, cause I ain't no hollaback girl. I ain't no hollaback girl!"

5:30: All our gear is the trailer of one of the humvees. The nets are on our BIDS trucks, we are ready to go home. People still bitch knowing we were told to an expect a long day. Black Magic takes charge and gets the last few taskings done. Where were you there Tomboy, Ms. I-Wanna-Be-A-Squad-Leader? Oh yeah, I clearly remember you leaving early, abandoning us at the motorpool. You suck at life and at being a soldier, let alone a squad leader, or acting sergeant.

6:15: I make it back to my room at the same time Stretch does. It was at least 102 degrees not accounting for the humidity; I long for a shower. Stretch goes back, changes his clothes, and leaves without showering. That nasty fuck.

11:00pm: Considering the next day will be even longer, I go to sleep after watching TV. I say my prayers, count my blessings, and plead to God to not let the weak into the Army anymore. God acknowledges my prayer and says no. I thank Him for listening anyways.



Have an airborne day,
565 Airbone out