Journal Open 8 Sep 2004

With absolutely nothing else to do but pick my nose and wait for the madness to end, I do this for you my friends. Spunky this is especially for you without whom cosmo would not be having such a fantastic year....For anyone else who cares I am in the military serving in an undisclosed location in the middle east.

A literary snack for you:

She shifts uncomfortably in the vehicle as a tiny drop of sweat makes its way down a part of her body she didnt even know COULD sweat. It's only 10am and already scorching. It's not only the heat that tells the temperature, in fact judging by the quarter sized blisters on her ass from the porta potty seats she had the poor judgement to sit on, it was probably about 107...she shifts again...make that 108. As the vehicle comes to a stop she pulls off her kevlar and and glances in the mirror at her sweaty matted hair. Wow, 3 inches of roots, 1/2 inch for every month in this place, add living in a trailer to that and she's almost come full circle back to her white trash roots, who says there isn't a little bit o kentuckey in evry' place ya'll go? She wiggles out of the vehicle trying to discretely disengage the four inches of granny panties up her ass. Thongs are against policy in the theater of operations, proof that a man is in charge because a woman would understand it all ends up the same place so it's 6 inches of underwear up your ass vs. two....Thongs should be government issued she decides. She gets halfway to the building before remembering the chock block and drip pan for the vehicle. Cursing silently she makes her way back across the parking lot to and climbs into the back to grab the items and places them carefully under the vehicle. Now she is in full compliance. Tatically backed into her parking space for a quick getaway should the enemy come storming the gates, as well as having the environmentally and safety conscious materials underneath so she won't drip oil on or have the vehicle roll over any of the enemy storming the gate. She walks into the building for formation...er the morning huddle that is, refreshed and ready to brief her boss and the other staff. It will give her excellent practice for the next two meetings she will brief the same information at. After the morning huddle the TOC comes to life as the staff digs in for the long 30 minutes before the next 2 hour meeting. She dances around the building trying to get her bladder to overlook the liter of water she just downed, by now it's 115 outside making it HEAT CAT 1 zillion in the porta potties. She discovered even "hovering" (a tactical position requiring many lunges to acquire muscles for) you could receive second degree burns from the heat emitting from the small plastic seat alone. Forget trying to use the hand sanitizer outside after 8am, its heated up to the temperature of boiling lava, but if you must have that assurance that 99% of the bacteria has been obliterated go ahead and take a squirt, skin is really overrated anyhow. Lunch is always a gamble. You can take the air conditioned bus which takes a half hour to reach the chow hall, or you can feel the fresh oven breeze of the great outdoors and get there in 10 minutes...that is if you can get the new up armored doors of your vehicle (incidentally heavy thick metal heated to 30000 degrees)open I guess the question you have to ask yourself is....are you feeling lucky punk? After the boiling seats, lava sanitizer and three failed attempts to get the door open anyway before it melted off her skin she opts for the bus....(to be continued)

This is dedicated to all the great Americans in the middle east giving the skin off their ass in hopes of a better Iraq.