Saturday, October 31, 2009

album review: far

Regina Spektor is having sex with my ears. She is clinging monkey-like to my head and pounding away. And her hallucinogenic choir machine is having even more sex with my ears. Or maybe it's a real choir. Either way, those airy "OOOAAAAHHH" voices are raping me to deaf. I have whiplash from all the musicians slamming my cranium. Strangely, my favorite track, Eet, doesn't have the choir at all. I don't know what an eet is, but I'm sure I'll be disappointed whenever I find out, because the song won't be as whimsical and goofy anymore. But then I'll be re-appointed because I'll probably find out she's singing about something grave and somber, and that will make it ironic.

The heavy subject matter combined with her usual blithe lyrics is also making love to my tender ears. I usually don't care about the words in music, but it's one more positive attribute to make tonight a very special night for my ears.

Genius Next Door was a song I loved ever since I heard it as a recording from a cafe performance. I don't like her singing quite as much on the album version, but the ear sex-crazed choir more than makes up for it.

Laughing With, as songs about God always do, makes my ears feel all repressed and guilty for enjoying their natural urges. It's not as if they had a choice. Regina never asked their permission. But logic has nothing to do with it. My ears feel like filthy whores and they love it.


In case that last post gave you the impression that I'm a weak ass, I should mention that the staff sergeant leading us was running like crazy because were short on time.


My last PT session was a lot of fun. Especially the cadences. Here are some that I remember:

Motivator: Next motivator won't you come on out


We want to hear you scream and pass out



Breathe it in


Puke it out



Oooooooooh who lives in a pineapple under the sea?


Spongy and yellow and porous is he


If nautical nonsense be something you wish


Then drop on the deck and flop like a fish


Spongebob Squarepants


Electronics students apparently take PT less seriously than other Marines. I'd never PTed before sunrise before, and it's really cold out here. So I was burning on the inside and freezing on the outside. It was totally fascinating feeling. I almost kept up with the leader. I was only like 10 yards behind at the end of the first mile. That put me in 10th place among about 80. We took a break and then I fell back like 50 yards for the second mile. I was a lot less motivated for that mile.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

29 palms

I haven't updated in a while. It's not because I've had any shortage of time or internet access. It's because they have beer here, and I'm allowed to drink it. I wouldn't be updating now if I hadn't discovered I could get beer and wifi in one place at the bowling alley. Here are the rest of those MCT pics:

Here's me, a white man named Black, with a black man named White. No other platoon could claim such a hilarious honor.

The chow hall.

Mama B's BBQ, the weekend chow hall.

A road.

I don't know that guy.

Now I'm at MOS school. There aren't any open seats for my class yet, so I'm in the Marines Awaiting Training platoon. Here're some pics from where I am now:

Somebody with white-out is a comedian.

Whoever made this sign had no idea I would come along and think it's hysterical.

Every Marine base I go to gets drier and desertier. This is the wasteland I have to cross just for my daily beer.

The chow hall.

Another picture of the horrible climate.

Sunday, October 11, 2009


I took more, but it's such a pain to get service that I could only email myself one. I'll try for more next week. That's Private Pyles if you can't read the name tag.


I forgot to mention this:

I also shot at night with night vision goggles and an infrared laser on my M16. My goggles were broken, so they were blurry as hell and I couldn't even see the target. But I could see the sticks holding it up, so I aimed above those, and used my laser to trace its outline. And I still got a tighter shot group than any of the other guys in my relay. This warrants a whole post because I need all the bragging opportunities I can get. So, to reiterate,

Figure 1: Badass. Please note the badass. (Not actually me.)

dear earth women

I slept on a concrete floor in a sleeping bag and ate MRE's all week. And I didn't poop once till I got back. But I'm all clean and refreshed now. I'm sitting out by a tree with my netbook and coffee like nothing happened.

On the range, I got to fire an M249 SAW,

an M240 machine gun,

an M203 grenade launcher,

and an AT4 anti-tank rocket.

Those last two were lies. I did get to shoot the grenade launcher, but only with practice grenades that explode Cheeto dust. And I only shot fake AT4 tube. It launches a 9mm tracer round with the same ballistic properties as the rocket.

For each burst with the machine guns, we would say, "Die motherfucker die, get some, release," and release the trigger on "release." That would ensure we fired the right number of rounds per burst. We were actually trained to say "Die little people die, get some, release," because Marines aren't allowed to cuss, but most of us decided to say it the traditional way.

I've got a week left here. It's been good times, so I've been taking pictures of the base and my platoon because I want to capture these memories forever. Look for those a little later.

Sunday, October 4, 2009


Here's my platoon mates being gay.

I'm packing up for the range now. I'll be without shower facilities for a week, but I'll have 80 baby wipes. Bye.

it's actually a netbook

Because it's cheap and has no disc drives. It does have a built-in camera though. Here's me being gay.