Two shitty pictures of the last full moon (a blue one) of the decade.
What the fuck happened to the bucket of parts?
Pre-arm breakage
I'm getting older so here is a list of the past ten years with the highlights, as I remember them.
2000: Went to Monterey, CA where I was placed in the Arabic Linguist pipeline in the Marine Corps. Discovered beer. Met some cool motherfuckers, with whom, I had some bomb-ass times. I foolishly got married at the end of this year. Nabil Salib told me that you could drink a liter or a half liter of cheap vodka with cranberry juice and not really feel badly in the morning.
2001: Graduated the linguist shit, then proceeded to sit around because my security clearance was in limbo. Became super jaded. This is probably the start of the me I know today. I came to realize the pointlessness of everything as I sat around the LRC, or did the linens for the detachment. This time in my life was probably the closest I have gotten to a prison-like environment. I once hugged a homeless guy on the beach who went by the name "Sea Bear". I rediscovered the absurd and became acquainted with the internet, dial-up. I started smoking and it was a terrible time to be alive.
2002: I discovered hip-hop. I also worked in the mailroom at DLI and got in trouble for many things. I think this was the year that I inadvertently ignited a duty roster in the microwave and hosed down some kids with super soakers. One time, one of those super soakers was filled with pee. I started the intermediate course in Arabic and my mother died this year. I was threatened with ass beatings for many things, including throwing beer bottles from the second story into the parking lot, and engaging in some serious vandalism. I saw Felicia for the first time walking to class in her charlies and I thought, "Damn, look at those titties." My marriage was terrible and one time I called some religious television ad and yelled at the guy on the phone because he was a telemarketer and didn't give a fuck about Jesus. My security clearance came in, I bought a Camaro, and I drove to Goodfellow AFB.
2003: Probably the worst year of the decade. Texas in the winter is terrible. There were 50 cent well drinks and despair. Living alone, with almost no supervision is not a good combination. I drove to Camp Lejeune after a stop over in Parris Island where I discovered that my first marriage had failed. Hard. Lejeune was the asshole of the United States. I was flown to a ship in the Mediterranean for two weeks to highlight the pointlessness of my existence. Then back in the states after a stop over in Spain. There were large drinks and men pissing on walls outside of a carnival, also drunken bumper cars. I didn't show up for duty for almost a month and the man brought the hammer down on me. I crashed my car in a ditch and my soon to be ex-wife moved out after a month of living with me, saying she wanted a divorce, so she set about getting one. I watched my best-friend get married in Connecticut. My old man died and I spent the Christmas holiday with a possibly schizophrenic woman who was pretty baked the entire time in upstate New York, there was a horse and two donkeys in the barn and it was cold and snowy. There was much suffering, but a wise man I knew prophesied that the next year would be "The Year of the Toche."
2004: Shit started looking up. I accidentally destroyed a very expensive direction finding antenna, and was stationed in Georgia for a time. I got one of my other best-friends to hook me up with Felicia and we moved in together soon after because my lease wasn't renewed after a very raucous party during which the fire department was called, I smashed my head through a door, someone put wine and meat into the coffee pot, stuck tampons to the ceiling, I got nude, and someone put a lit cigarette in my but cheeks. I moved in, we bought Rommel, I got out of the Marine Corps and started a shitty job at GNC and discovered that it paid too little to live and the short term obvious solution was to get married so Felicia and I could get that sweet Comrats and BAH check. I proposed over the phone and we got married at the courthouse. We foolishly decided to have children and Felicia got pregnant immediately after we got married. Then she decided to buy a house. I visited Alaska for the first time and then we went to Christmas in Arizona and I yelled at some guy in the airport because he was being a douche to Felicia about the dog. I quit my shitty job and I quit smoking and my suicidal ideation took a sharp downturn.
2005: We moved into our new house and I promptly ripped a bunch of shit off the walls because I deluded myself into thinking that I'm Bob Vila and then I discovered I'm not a handy man. So we paid some guy who might have been homeless, and definitely dependent upon some controlled substance to finish it. He did a good job, I think. There was a hurricane that destroyed a tree in our back yard. Felicia had Gavin and I signed up for a six month extension in the Marine Corps so I could teach Arabic on base. Then one day, we got into a fight in a parking lot and some police were called. I took my first ever college class and Felicia was doing some early childhood education thing, that she eventually quit. We spent Christmas in Alaska and I was into drinking forties from the gas station and had discovered MySpace. Cable internet was the name of the game and I was discovering how awful people are online. I started taking care of one of Felicia's friend's kids during the day and realized that being a homemaker is probably the job for which I am most qualified.
2006: We drive across the continent to live in the downstairs part of my in-laws' house. Denver, Yosemite, and parts of Wyoming and Montana are pretty awesome. The Canadian Rockies are huge and never ending, and Kansas is just plain fucking creepy. You are definitely the out-of-towner, and everyone exudes this through their backwards-ass pores. Seriously, fuck them. We got stuck in Canada after hitting some wild life, and I saw a black bear and some bison next to the road. Gavin turned one. I was forced to take a job as a high school janitor at some shitty alternative school and I developed a sincere hatred of adolescence. I couldn't start school in full because residency requirements are fucking bullshit. Fuck that too. I had to do some seriously foul things at that fucking job and I discovered that we underpay huge uneducated sections of the populace to deal with shit that the middle class thinks they are above. Do you even know how many carcinogens these people work around? Do you have any idea how much shit we dump into the water on this planet? Do you know that in order to properly dispose of a jug that contained HCl, you only have to rinse it once and wrap it in newspaper, then you can just chuck it in the fucking dumpster? Be a fucking janitor and you can learn all these things, and more. Felicia got pregnant again because we lack a basic understanding of the human reproductive cycle. Also, I gotta have them babies.
2007: I started school in earnest after the janitor gig. I liked school, it was a change of pace and I just decided to major in psychology. It could have been anything really, but Felicia already had most of the books, so I picked psych. I started to find that college students don't understand anything, and are not motivated to learn new things, or do any work whatsoever to get a degree. They feel entitled to just get the fucking paper so they can go get a job and make money. Large amounts of them don't even give a fuck about anything and just want to make more money than the assholes who fix them their fucking food. Then you have the batch that are there to save the fucking world, or some shit. Kiernan was born and we had moved from the in-laws' house to a loft above Felicia's grandmother's garage. We didn't have running water in there and so we had to piss in a bucket, old school style. We subsisted off of frozen burritos and wine, and there was a squirrel who started living in there with us.
2008: I matriculated to UAA and decided to graduate with honors, which I believed would aid my chances in grad school acceptance. I took a couple research classes and realized that many, many people have an inflated view of their own importance. We moved to Anchorage, and the winter that year was balls. Straight up fucking balls: super cold, super snowy, super hassle. Also, there was no summer this year. Our apartment is one bedroom and we lived across the hall from some South East Asians with many children. They kept strange hours, cooked weird but delicious smelling food, and we never spoke to them. I once had to go outside and destroy a cardboard box with a baseball bat because the kids were pissing me off so badly. We attended many wine tastings, which were more like wine drinking parties, and I don't think anyone in attendance went home sober. We hung out with Felicia's friends, and their kids, and I think my brother in law got divorced this year. Also, children grow at an alarming rate.
2009: After an early-ish snow melt, we had a great summer: hiking, camping, fire, beer, meat, lakes, rocks, photographs. The apartment above ours had a leak, and we went without showers for a few days because the drain was fucked up. I bought a Wii, and rediscovered my love for Nintendo. I read much, and loathed my classmates. These assholes are all talking about going out on a goddamned Wednesday and worrying about grad school applications with their complete lack of responsibilities and still don't get a 4.0? Fuck them, have some kids and then we'll talk about stress. I started my job at the math lab and continued lowering my views about the college population. I kind of switched to coast mode and decided I didn't want to go to grad school right away, and when I do, it probably won't be for anything related to psychology. Also, I decided that I might want to work for the Office of Children's Services and snatch peoples' kids. Sounds like fun. I grew tired of school and bills and homework and I just want to come home after the day is over and play video games or read books or play with my kids. Also, Gavin broke his fucking arm on Christmas day, and I had to spend the afternoon in the ER and then on New Year's Eve he went back to have a cast put on. He's pretty resilient.
There you go. A decade of shit that has arisen to make me who I currently am, which is no one, because I have no independent self nature. Like Method Man rhymes, "Life is good, so good live it twice if I could."
2000: Went to Monterey, CA where I was placed in the Arabic Linguist pipeline in the Marine Corps. Discovered beer. Met some cool motherfuckers, with whom, I had some bomb-ass times. I foolishly got married at the end of this year. Nabil Salib told me that you could drink a liter or a half liter of cheap vodka with cranberry juice and not really feel badly in the morning.
2001: Graduated the linguist shit, then proceeded to sit around because my security clearance was in limbo. Became super jaded. This is probably the start of the me I know today. I came to realize the pointlessness of everything as I sat around the LRC, or did the linens for the detachment. This time in my life was probably the closest I have gotten to a prison-like environment. I once hugged a homeless guy on the beach who went by the name "Sea Bear". I rediscovered the absurd and became acquainted with the internet, dial-up. I started smoking and it was a terrible time to be alive.
2002: I discovered hip-hop. I also worked in the mailroom at DLI and got in trouble for many things. I think this was the year that I inadvertently ignited a duty roster in the microwave and hosed down some kids with super soakers. One time, one of those super soakers was filled with pee. I started the intermediate course in Arabic and my mother died this year. I was threatened with ass beatings for many things, including throwing beer bottles from the second story into the parking lot, and engaging in some serious vandalism. I saw Felicia for the first time walking to class in her charlies and I thought, "Damn, look at those titties." My marriage was terrible and one time I called some religious television ad and yelled at the guy on the phone because he was a telemarketer and didn't give a fuck about Jesus. My security clearance came in, I bought a Camaro, and I drove to Goodfellow AFB.
2003: Probably the worst year of the decade. Texas in the winter is terrible. There were 50 cent well drinks and despair. Living alone, with almost no supervision is not a good combination. I drove to Camp Lejeune after a stop over in Parris Island where I discovered that my first marriage had failed. Hard. Lejeune was the asshole of the United States. I was flown to a ship in the Mediterranean for two weeks to highlight the pointlessness of my existence. Then back in the states after a stop over in Spain. There were large drinks and men pissing on walls outside of a carnival, also drunken bumper cars. I didn't show up for duty for almost a month and the man brought the hammer down on me. I crashed my car in a ditch and my soon to be ex-wife moved out after a month of living with me, saying she wanted a divorce, so she set about getting one. I watched my best-friend get married in Connecticut. My old man died and I spent the Christmas holiday with a possibly schizophrenic woman who was pretty baked the entire time in upstate New York, there was a horse and two donkeys in the barn and it was cold and snowy. There was much suffering, but a wise man I knew prophesied that the next year would be "The Year of the Toche."
2004: Shit started looking up. I accidentally destroyed a very expensive direction finding antenna, and was stationed in Georgia for a time. I got one of my other best-friends to hook me up with Felicia and we moved in together soon after because my lease wasn't renewed after a very raucous party during which the fire department was called, I smashed my head through a door, someone put wine and meat into the coffee pot, stuck tampons to the ceiling, I got nude, and someone put a lit cigarette in my but cheeks. I moved in, we bought Rommel, I got out of the Marine Corps and started a shitty job at GNC and discovered that it paid too little to live and the short term obvious solution was to get married so Felicia and I could get that sweet Comrats and BAH check. I proposed over the phone and we got married at the courthouse. We foolishly decided to have children and Felicia got pregnant immediately after we got married. Then she decided to buy a house. I visited Alaska for the first time and then we went to Christmas in Arizona and I yelled at some guy in the airport because he was being a douche to Felicia about the dog. I quit my shitty job and I quit smoking and my suicidal ideation took a sharp downturn.
2005: We moved into our new house and I promptly ripped a bunch of shit off the walls because I deluded myself into thinking that I'm Bob Vila and then I discovered I'm not a handy man. So we paid some guy who might have been homeless, and definitely dependent upon some controlled substance to finish it. He did a good job, I think. There was a hurricane that destroyed a tree in our back yard. Felicia had Gavin and I signed up for a six month extension in the Marine Corps so I could teach Arabic on base. Then one day, we got into a fight in a parking lot and some police were called. I took my first ever college class and Felicia was doing some early childhood education thing, that she eventually quit. We spent Christmas in Alaska and I was into drinking forties from the gas station and had discovered MySpace. Cable internet was the name of the game and I was discovering how awful people are online. I started taking care of one of Felicia's friend's kids during the day and realized that being a homemaker is probably the job for which I am most qualified.
2006: We drive across the continent to live in the downstairs part of my in-laws' house. Denver, Yosemite, and parts of Wyoming and Montana are pretty awesome. The Canadian Rockies are huge and never ending, and Kansas is just plain fucking creepy. You are definitely the out-of-towner, and everyone exudes this through their backwards-ass pores. Seriously, fuck them. We got stuck in Canada after hitting some wild life, and I saw a black bear and some bison next to the road. Gavin turned one. I was forced to take a job as a high school janitor at some shitty alternative school and I developed a sincere hatred of adolescence. I couldn't start school in full because residency requirements are fucking bullshit. Fuck that too. I had to do some seriously foul things at that fucking job and I discovered that we underpay huge uneducated sections of the populace to deal with shit that the middle class thinks they are above. Do you even know how many carcinogens these people work around? Do you have any idea how much shit we dump into the water on this planet? Do you know that in order to properly dispose of a jug that contained HCl, you only have to rinse it once and wrap it in newspaper, then you can just chuck it in the fucking dumpster? Be a fucking janitor and you can learn all these things, and more. Felicia got pregnant again because we lack a basic understanding of the human reproductive cycle. Also, I gotta have them babies.
2007: I started school in earnest after the janitor gig. I liked school, it was a change of pace and I just decided to major in psychology. It could have been anything really, but Felicia already had most of the books, so I picked psych. I started to find that college students don't understand anything, and are not motivated to learn new things, or do any work whatsoever to get a degree. They feel entitled to just get the fucking paper so they can go get a job and make money. Large amounts of them don't even give a fuck about anything and just want to make more money than the assholes who fix them their fucking food. Then you have the batch that are there to save the fucking world, or some shit. Kiernan was born and we had moved from the in-laws' house to a loft above Felicia's grandmother's garage. We didn't have running water in there and so we had to piss in a bucket, old school style. We subsisted off of frozen burritos and wine, and there was a squirrel who started living in there with us.
2008: I matriculated to UAA and decided to graduate with honors, which I believed would aid my chances in grad school acceptance. I took a couple research classes and realized that many, many people have an inflated view of their own importance. We moved to Anchorage, and the winter that year was balls. Straight up fucking balls: super cold, super snowy, super hassle. Also, there was no summer this year. Our apartment is one bedroom and we lived across the hall from some South East Asians with many children. They kept strange hours, cooked weird but delicious smelling food, and we never spoke to them. I once had to go outside and destroy a cardboard box with a baseball bat because the kids were pissing me off so badly. We attended many wine tastings, which were more like wine drinking parties, and I don't think anyone in attendance went home sober. We hung out with Felicia's friends, and their kids, and I think my brother in law got divorced this year. Also, children grow at an alarming rate.
2009: After an early-ish snow melt, we had a great summer: hiking, camping, fire, beer, meat, lakes, rocks, photographs. The apartment above ours had a leak, and we went without showers for a few days because the drain was fucked up. I bought a Wii, and rediscovered my love for Nintendo. I read much, and loathed my classmates. These assholes are all talking about going out on a goddamned Wednesday and worrying about grad school applications with their complete lack of responsibilities and still don't get a 4.0? Fuck them, have some kids and then we'll talk about stress. I started my job at the math lab and continued lowering my views about the college population. I kind of switched to coast mode and decided I didn't want to go to grad school right away, and when I do, it probably won't be for anything related to psychology. Also, I decided that I might want to work for the Office of Children's Services and snatch peoples' kids. Sounds like fun. I grew tired of school and bills and homework and I just want to come home after the day is over and play video games or read books or play with my kids. Also, Gavin broke his fucking arm on Christmas day, and I had to spend the afternoon in the ER and then on New Year's Eve he went back to have a cast put on. He's pretty resilient.
There you go. A decade of shit that has arisen to make me who I currently am, which is no one, because I have no independent self nature. Like Method Man rhymes, "Life is good, so good live it twice if I could."
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