The Dingo ate my weapon

Ok so damn this M16 I have….So they took my 9mm which I carried in a very chic little brown cowboy holster and handed me the big black pain in my ass. They claimed that I was not actually authorized by MTOE (great big military list o’ crap your unit has to lug around) to carry the weapon and they needed to give it to the one of the Military Police soldiers. I think the MTOE should be amended to authorize me one number 1 because I’m entirely too cute to carry around something 2/3rds of my height in such a boring color and number 2 because remembering it is entirely more effort than I wish to put forth at any point during my day. Doesn’t Gucci make a clutcher handgun? Just tonight I went to chow and left my weapon in the vehicle when I came back in to work. I mean this is why I don’t have children. A weapon is like a kid, but without the built-in squall-o-meter that reminds you that its there and you need to not leave it on a bustop. You have to clean a weapon, you have to clean a kid, you have to carry a weapon everywhere or have someone watch it, likewise with a kid. I’m 25 yet somehow I don’t think I’ve quite become attune to those motherly instincts. After the 20th time my dogs carried their dishes and let them drop to the floor with a loud clatter right in front of me I went out and bought one of those godzilla feeders so I could forget about it for weeks at a time (yo quiero-QUIT F-ING BARKING ALREADY!!). I have been dreaming of having children with an alarming frequency for the past few months, but even more disturbing is I seem to be riding the short bus to motherhood in every episode. I leave them in apartments, on buses, I forget to feed them (and in most of the dreams at 2days old they are able to talk and tell me what a crack-head I am). Sometimes I run through a mist screaming the dingo ate my baby. I think I need to cut back on the baked beans (ok the crack too) during midnight chow, I read a cartoon that said you shouldn’t hold in your farts because they will travel up to your brain and that’s where shitty idea’s come from. It makes sense to me, but what do I know I have worked very hard to ensure I am of as little value to anyone here as I can possibly be, so idea’s, shitty or no are not found in abundance on my watch. I bought my significant other a love fern over a year ago (to be cute like kate Hudson in How to lose a guy in 10 days)…yeah I killed it. One last living fern on the entire bush clung to life for these past nine months but finally lost the battle just over a month ago. I can’t even keep plants alive. I am about to be promoted to captain on the 1st of November which is (drum roll) more responsibility. I am living proof of the fact that all you need to do to make Captain is show up and breathe…Attention citizens, breathers wanted! I mean think of it, you could list crank calls on your resume as previous experience. All this and a paycheck too…