Plus Two
Right. Summer is dead. I will not attend its funeral. There is frost on my car in the mornings. The grass crunches as I stretch. The air burns my lungs when I hit the second mile. Soon the sun will not bring life to anything here. I love fall.
I leave for the field Wednesday and will return one week from Wednesday. One week. No big deal. I can do one week all day baby. All day. It amazes me that people in the Army don't like going to the field or desire not to go to war. That is your job. Well, our job. Like if you're a hooker and hate getting pissed on, it's par for the course.
So lately, serious thoughts have crept in my head about trading in the old car. I think I should get a motorcycle. I want one and I think I could save gas money.
So apparently the reason for my upcoming interview is that I impressed some Colonel at the dining in the other night with my answers to his questions. Great. Now I have to figure out which lie impressed him. I'll let you in on a secret of mine. I lie about damn near everything. I'm good at it too. I will lie about shit I have no reason to lie about, especially if I knew you in the past or I have never met you. I see someone from high school and conversations go like this, "Hey Yossarian! Man, what are you up to these days?" I reply with something like, "I am a monkey trainer for the Brooklyn Zoo." Or, "I roof houses in Flagstaff." Or, "I am a key grip for Soul Train." Or, "I am an accountant in a little town outside of Gary Indiana called Chicago." I meet people through friends and it pains me to no end the my friend will inevitably tell the person some truth about me, I hate telling people what I do or the reasons for my actions. Fuck off. I think the Colonel asked me why I joined the Army, as it seems to be an area of interest to people. Why would a kid who isn't prior service or ROTC join the Army? Well fuck off I did. So I told him something and he liked it and now I have to be interviewed. Shit. I am sure I will make an ass of myself. I'll let you know how it goes.
posted by Yossarian at 5:01 PM
3 Comments:
I want to go on a picnic with you at night, whilst the cosmos wheels above. Then you can stick your e-dingus in my cyber-cooter.
Wait, what just happened?
you forgot the second all day
"all dey baby, all dey!" while arching then bowing the arms ie the moment before professional athletes cross the side line back to their teammates after making a good play
pro football sux
i prefer crumbling old people in my recreation hockey league. it is fuckin great. these guys that are sixty pounds bigger than me, but oddly frail from years of inactivity and possibly arthritis feel the checking wrath of a mid ice collision. it only happens once or twice a game in a non checking league and i never get called. see we are skating toward each other and i could probably get out of the way, then wait arms come up and shoulders down just a touch. whammo... crumbling old people. we should just play hockey until old people die from it
oh yeah and it case you didnt know....that anonymous is L to the V. and if you still don't know, well your ass better caaaaaaaaaaaall somebody
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