Mathematics

Right. A three year contract. Fourteen months left. Two countries stationed, five time zones and four states. 24,000 miles driven; 24,000 miles flown. One country left to go to. One war 60 years ago.
3170.70 a month base. 700 for cost of living. 1300 for housing. 200 for food. Sixteen beers drunk in one sitting. One war sixty years later. 33% of a nation's budget. Over 100 dead in one month.
Two days ago it was five guys in Germany. Two days ago it was two E5's and 3 E2's. Two days ago I worked 34 hours straight. Because the five put four in a hospital I stood in formation for 12 hours straight today. Because five used a seven pound, three foot Billy club on the back of a head 23 times. Because 5 beat four. Because five got caught selling 300 rounds of .556 on a black market. Because five don't know how to behave. The four were 16 and 17 years old. The four had a year or two more of high school. The four were walking 6 blocks home. Five axes to grind targeting the four for no reason.
The DOW is up 1000 since I started investing. 27 degrees 40% chance of snow. Because of five I inspected 35 rooms today. Because of five I confiscated 9 knives, 4 Billy clubs and a smattering of paint ball guns. Because of five all soldiers must be in groups of 4 now. Because of five, the 2,500 or so soldiers here are now targets. Because of five the Germans are pissed. Because of five I didn't write anything you wanted to read today. 14 months left and then it's just a matter of time. Nine emails from an organization of three letters about a job in 14 months. Nine responses all of no. Because because of two friends I wouldn't erase form the past 10 years of my life.
One more thing. In 14 months I'll be 29. 4 years after that, I'll be 33.

Ignore Alien Order

Right. This is my nephew. He is pretty cool. I can say this having never met him because on a genetic level he shares a chromosome or two with me, which is bragable. My brother named him Greyson. I still find the name stupid so I will call him "boy." That is I will call him that when I see him, which is in a year and a half or so.
It is all still up in the air. I mean. I might just say fuck it and take the challenge of Special Forces. That would make me tougher than a coffin nail. But I already am that tough so I might just come home and get a job. Who can tell the future? Not me that's who. Except for this there link.
That is some creepy shit right there. I mean. Who knew I had the gift? Not me that's who. Except I did because I knew. I knew before you because when I knew I hadn't yet had the gift making me at that point have the gift albeit unbeknownst to you.
Speaking of knowing the future before I knew that I could know the future, the past has come back in ways I hadn't thought of since it happened because I was too fixated on knowing the future.
What all that means is, is that two old friend type people have contacted me as of late though a thing called "my space." I predict that this is a thing that will annoy me for years to come.
Anyway, my space is an annoyance I didn't see coming. But it is funny how many girls I've found there who used to date my peeps. I would have found women I've dated, but it is called my space not, "crank victim space." A subtle difference. Anyway, unkind really fucked up with one. I have always said it, ever since I was like 4 and shit, I would say, "If ever one should fine oneself in a boning relationship with a girl who looks like that Elizabeth Shue, never stop boning said woman." I could see the future even as a boy.
In summation, my space sucks and I am tired of looking at women dating douche bags in real life so I will watch porn in the stead of my space.
To celebrate the World Series, I drank a lot of beer last night. To punish myself for a night of drinking and debauchery, I ran 6 miles this morning. I ran the first 3 in just under 18 minutes and the second three in just over 21 minutes. I rule.
It's all about mind control.
But then again in all of my future telling I never take time to look at the past or where I am currently. So since the people from my space were from high school, the ten year reunion was last week, and I spent a lot of time looking from people and playing the whole 6 degrees of separation game, I thought I would take a minute and opine about my life since high school. In a nut shell, I would give anything to erase the past 10 years of my life. It's been enjoyable and all but I just haven't done anything worthwhile. I haven't really done anything, aside from telling the future of course. I didn't really like high school.
I didn't date much in high school and I don't really date much in life. This is a problem I call, "women are retards and desire to be beaten and date douche bags." I know it's a crazy theory, but I find it holds water.
If you were as tall as a 5 foot 3 inch tree I would take you to bora bora for a night filled with dice games and shoving ice down your shirt. If I had a fist full of dollars I could tell you which dog to bet on when it starts raining.

And Of The All

Right. My Internet is up, thus I can now start saving all my hooker money and put it towards something needed, like socks.
I am so frigging busy as of late. It blows. The German people are fucking lazy.
Work still sucks.
All these German people want is a fucking handout. Lazy gits. Need a fucking job.
There was a bunch of funny shit I was planning on writing earlier. Fuck beans I can't think of it now.
All my shit is in. Christ my place is small. I don't have room for most of my shit.
I saw her cells fluoresce as she inhaled the cold air. I felt how warm her breath was as she reached into my coat. The first snowflake of the season fell and caused a spark in her eyes bright enough to engulf the principle of life. Her eyes made the snow look blue. The snow fell like apocalyptic fire as I knew that my life would never be as good as it was right then. The ice we were skating on began to break and as I fell she stepped onto the shore. I broke through the ice onto the land like it was the beach at Normandy when I realized she had taken the best moment of my life to lift my wallet.

Wood And Nails

Right. Remember when I told you like over a year ago to go listen to Miles of Wire and you ignored me? You remember that you sodding bint? Well fuck you.
I don't know where that came from.
Things I have done since last posting include running, showering, working, sleeping and running. However, I also managed to do two of the greatest things known to man. One, I crashed my Stryker. Pictures will be posted soon. Two, I found myself in the highly fun situation of boning my first Asian and this woman who looked like Jessica Simpson, at the same time, simultaneously, concurrently, en masse, all for the bargain basement price of 100 Euro. God bless women in the workplace. Not my workplace, but theirs, which is the brothel.
My shit still isn't here so I still have no pillow to sleep on. I also have a feeling half my shit will be broke and the other half will have been stolen. So I am going to need new shit. Send it to me.
So Private Asshat is going to give me a heart attack. Oh the stories about this pile of shit.
When I meet people in Germany I tell them my name is Chad McGreevy and I study Art History. They usually giggle about the art part, but I inform them that it is "history" so it is laudable. Chad McGreevy is fine with me sullying his good name. In fact, it was his idea for me to have an alias because of the women here only wanting me so that they can get off the farm. Chad McGreevy is so fucking smart.
Prague is awesome. I don't think I made that clear in my last post. Prague rules and so does fucking an Asian and a Jessica Simpson look-a-like for money. However the fucking happened in Germany, not Prague.
I miss my clothes. I miss my bed. I miss my TV. I miss my videogames. I miss all of my shit. I want it to get here now.
I drink for breakfast because I am thirsty.
I want to go to Tokyo for Christmas. However my friend Paul wants to go to Rome. I say if we are to stay in Europe then we ought to hit Athens or Paris. But he seems hell bent on Rome. So maybe Rome it is. He likes the sun and beaches and shit. I like the snow and wearing a coat and shit. Since the both of us like shit we get along well.
The Internet still isn't connected to the attic in which I am confined. This fucking sucks.
It still isn't very cold here. Stupid fucking German weather. I want to go ice skating on the pond by my house. Stupid fucking German weather.
When someone mentions that they don't understand how people named William can be called Bill, a funny and homoerotic reply is, "Yeah. I never got Dick from Richard either."
I am hungry and I am so tired of this gross assed German food. I don't want deep fried pig anymore. Never. I hate it.
In case you are unaware, my Navigation System in my car doesn't work because I can't find a European DVD coded to American DVD player standards. Alpine makes the shit for Acura and they are about as helpful as Private Asshat. Meaning they don't do shit.
The following people suck balls:
The guy wearing the King outfit for Burger King.
The bitch filling up my mailbox with High School Reunion bullshit.
My Nazi landlord.
Private Asshat.
My boss.
My troop XO.
Anyone on VH1 at anytime ever sans Jessica Simpson and JESSICA BIEL.
Anyone boning either of the afore mentioned Jessica's.
Every girl who won't sleep with me.
Every guy I have met in real life sans Unkind, Cocaine, Paul, J, Bret Favre and a scant few I've met in the Army.
Anyone who takes my money and doesn't supply an Asian and a Jessica Simpson look-a-like for the purpose of sex.
This guy I call Earl but I think his name is Skip.
The German people for not letting me wash my car because it pollutes the ground.
Me. But not in a literal way.
Bill O'Riely.
Al Franken.
Kenneth Cole for not delivering here.
The fucker Madonna adopted.
Ben Stiller.
The man.

I Am Door Number Two

Right. How did the date with the old bitchy woman go? She started being a total retard, so I dropped her off at the train station, bought her a ticket home and went to Prague by myself. Actually, I never even picked her up for Prague. She was acting dumb and saying she left her passport in Italy so she couldn’t go to Prague she wanted to go to Spain instead. So whatever, bye and I went to Prague by myself and did the tourist bit.
Things I learned in Prague:
1 – My superpower of being invisible to women remains.
2 – If I could find a job there, I'd live there when I get out of the Army.
3 – Prague is phenomenal.
4 – The women, while ignoring me, are beautiful.
Basically, Prague is like Disney World without the rides. There is a lot to do and so many tourists it makes your head spin. I bought a bunch of crap and I stayed in a dope ass place. In summation, Prague rules and farm-land Germany does not.
I think I'd be invisible to women here too, except I have a job and I offer an avenue to get away from no where to these German whores.
Let's all move to Prague.
Where is next on the list of places I will go while in Europe? I think Paris. Maybe Rome, but soon it will be Afghanistan, which isn't in Europe, but you get the point.
I get promoted here soon.
My Internet still isn't up, nor is my phone, thus I blog at work.
I know for a fact that if I were to take some lamb, lettuce, tomatoes, onions and throw them on some bread with some ranch dressing it would not taste like a donner. Thus, the devil has his hand in it.
Stupid fucking Kenneth Cole doesn't deliver here. Now I am bootless. I fucking want Kenneth Cole to fucking die. Maybe not die. But, I would like them to deliver to me.
Me and Paul.
I hate my apartment.
My shit should arrive this week, so at least I'll have a bed to sleep on.
I wish this weren't here. I wish it would leave my gullet and leave me 40 pounds lighter. I'd run to the sun if it could help. I want it to die in me so I don't have to look at the diametric opposition in you. You. You who deserve what I have. You who own what I desire. You who know of nothing more than to hang children for the eternal taste of gratitude from the homeless. You who smell of sky. I know what it is called. I know what it is. I built it inside of the temple, only to have it destroyed by the television set. God built the daytime, man built the night. Man lit the night. God darkens the day. You look like hell. I crush diamonds in my eyes. The hate inside is the love of the innocents. The woman you whore out is your sister. I have calcium deposits growing on my skull, making me look demonic. You've had plastic surgery, an eating disorder, too much sun and enough coke to kill, making you look angelic.

Let's Look At The Together

Right. If these fuckers could take any longer to hook up my internet I might die. My belongings are also late, thus I have nothing to jerk off to. This is getting stupid.
My brother is now a father. May all go well in that endeavor.
You know what rules about being in the Army? Yelling at people; that's what.
I bought an IPod. Hooah. I failed to consider that it is pointless to have an IPod when one doesn't have any music, but I have a 60 gig thing. It's supposed to be all high-speed, but who can tell. Not me that's who because none of my shit is here yet.
The German people are so fucking backwards it is boggles the mind. They also eat some pretty messed up junk. But they also eat this thing called a "Donner," and it pretty much whoops a mule's ass with a belt. I don't understand how it can taste so good. I think it is the work of the devil.
What ever happened to that guy Boner from Growing Pains?
Perhaps you were not paying attention, but the score is Yossarian 1, you 0. The game was famous hot bitches named JESSICA BIEL we all are preordained to bone.
How fast can you run 4 miles? I only ask because I ran it in 28 minutes today. I'm not saying it makes me better than you, I'm only saying it makes me faster than you.
Does anyone in the blogosphere miss me? I mean aside from people working in the shadows to take away my future crown. More specifically, does Janine Lindemulder miss me? I only ask because I miss spewing forth to your image and grunting sounds.
Work blows.
I have a date this weekend with this woman who looks like a total bitch, which makes her even hotter than she is. I have what some would call a theory, but I call a series of complete truths and facts so pure that argument against only proves what I am saying. I call this a glort.
My glort is as follows. If a woman is attractive, and looks like a mean bitch, then she is upgraded to super hot. To illustrate this I want you to either A) look into a mirror, or B) go find a girl and look at her and tell her to act out these emotions while you look at her. First either look or ask her to look happy. Cute. Now look sad. Sexy. Now look like dick is the only thing on the mind. Take a picture and send it to me because I'd like to see that look. Now look like you are about to say to your boyfriend, "You tiny-dicked-piece-of-worthless-shit-I-should-have-fucked-your-brother," in front of his mother at Thanksgiving dinner. See. UBER HOT!!!
Where was I? Oh yeah, so I met this girl in a bar last week and we got to shucking and jiving and I just wanted to drink myself into a state but she wanted to talk and so we did and I was funny and now I have to go out with her and I am hoping there will be beer because I like drinking and I like being drunk and I think people like me better when I am drinking at least I know she does because I was drunk the only time I spoke to her and I think she was sober or maybe she was on arm candy because she was skinny and scratched a lot and I don’t remember much of what she said I only remember her looking like a bitch and trying very hard not to laugh at my jokes.
It was weird.
HEY!
I remember how you looked at me when I wasn't paying attention. I remember when I looked at you when you weren't paying attention. I remember what you were thinking when I wasn't paying attention. I remember where we were going but you weren't paying attention. I remember why I was looking but you weren't paying attention. I remember who you were looking at when it looked like I wasn't paying attention.