CATHARSIS

Finally, I hate that sense of waiting, of anticipation. One of the big two finally happened. One of our trucks finally got blown up. No one was hurt, and the vehicle was even able to drive out of the kill zone. But gods it feels good. Now that we've finally been hit, things feel a little more back to normal. Unfortunately for me, the second big one might not be so personal, but It's coming too. Coming real soon. Unfortunately it's going to be the kind of story I'm going to have to wait to tell you in person.

-Ibin Shai'tain

Arabic for the Satanic

Repeat after me.

Marhaba, aanni ismee Ibin Shai'tain, aanni roha ealy.

Hello, I am the Son of Satan, I'm here for your soul.




Sometimes... just sometimes, this job is worth it.

Happy Holidays my ass.

Yay it's thanksgiving... not really. Not too much I can really feel very thankful for right now. I'm already sick of the goddamn chow hall food, and I'm not looking forward to their rendition of holiday cheer either. I guess that can bring me to the things I am thankful for, I won't have to eat the chow hall food because I'll be out looking for a holiday firefight on the roads. Seems like we always get hit on holidays. Oh and I'm thankful that I have an excuse to not go to my families annoyingly forced cheer holiday celebration. Though I won't be making any holiday tea either. And I do always look forward to holiday tea... and the gods know I miss eggnog season. Anyways... if you guys don't hear from me over the holiday weekend it's not because I hate you, it's because I'm out working.

Happy fucking Thanksgiving
-Clint

Bullet holes and pancakes.

My truck got it's first two kills the other night. Two desert rats, they were big ones too. They didn't stand a chance against my mine roller. That thing has a solid line of tires, it'd be hard for a mouse to squeeze through, much less a rat. My truck even got to mutilate a couple of enemy bodies... ok yeah... we just ran over couple of dead dogs... but the truck really steam rolled them. Anyways... good times. Ok not really. But that's the most exciting thing that's happened lately.

FML

I thought you guys might like this. Here's me and my truck agian... now take a closer look at my trucks markings. We added a little personal touch to it. My driver is just now entering his first month of stop loss.

Observations.

Haji Cigarettes go down with a faint aftertaste and distinct burn that I could only associate with a whole new class of carcigens.

I'm still finding sand in some of my gear that's been in a bag since we got here that I know is from last deployment. Fuck sand.

When you give the best advice on women, having to learn all over again not to trust any of them sucks.

I think I found my sense of adventure again. It was hiding in a condemned bunker of all places. (story here, ask me later (and yes this means I will most likely be going on a bad adventure stint when I get home again, I hope it carries me all the way to Antartica.).

Three cups of coffee can't even do for me what one can of Wild Tiger can.

More later. If I don't get lucky and get blown up that is.

Veterans Day

Happy Veterans Day me. Basically, what I'm saying is... if you don't email me, to say Happy Veterans Day today, you're a commie, or just a bitch.

That is all.

Hooka

Oh yeah... I'm sending this bad boy home.

Wish me luck.

I forget to add... I want everyone to wish me luck. I'm riding around with all this anger and no where to really let it out. Maybe if I get really lucky, someone will fuck up and I'll get to kill someone.... preferably the enemy.

Later.

Mad Max and the Road Warrior

So yeah... I accidentally deleted that post I made with the pictures and the description of the suicide truck. Anyways.... here's a picture of me and my beast. I'll try and remember to take a picture or two of the bullet holes in it.
I drive the suicide truck, and that's it. Like I said it that other post, it's kinda fun going out knowing that the purpose of your truck is to get the thing on the front blown up so no one else does. Anyways... I've been too damn busy with missions lately to play on here, and I'm going right back out. Maybe I'll have a break after this one and I'll post another picture or two.

-Mad Max

I'm only happy when It rains.

It actually rained here. It must have started some time early this morning... and I doubt it ever got above a medium sprinkle. So no, it wasn't really rain by any TN standard, but it was precipitation none the less. I stood out in for all of twenty minutes this morning, that being how long that particular sprinkle lasted. It felt good. The only problem is now everything that is normally covered in a perpetual cycle of sand and sandy like dust, is now covered in slimy mud like substance. I doubt it'll ever actually rain hard enough here to wash everything clean... but I feel like I need that rain to come. For me, not for the sake of anything here actually being clean.

Dethklok Vs. God

If Dethklok was to get in a fight with god, who would win? Trick question. Dethklok is god.

I just acquired the DethAlbum II. It rocked my face off. One of the biggest regrets of my most recent life is not going to see Dethklok that time in Atlanta. I can't exactly remember why we didn't go. I know I was surprised when I heard they were playing so close, and I only had a day or two's notice but still. I should have gone. Hopefully I'll catch them soon.

If you don't love Dethklok then fuck you.

H.P. Lovecraft

Has anyone read any Lovecraft? I'd really like to, but I know only so little about him. And of course, asking my mother to send me a few titles by him would surely return me nothing. I really doubt my mother would send me anything by a author known for writing horror fiction almost exclusively about the occult. Like I've said, I've been on a Stephen King stint as of late, and my recently read favorite short story by him, Jerusalem's Lot was apparently done in the Lovecraft motif, likewas with the underlying evil in It. I'm taking the hint. So if anyone knows anything about his works, or has a old copy they'd like to send me. I'm be much obliged. I also really wish I had my big beautiful leather bound Bible of everything Edgar Allen Poe with me, but even in my nice little trailer that I live in even it would be eventually ruined by the damn dust and sand.

I don't guess I ever mentioned that did I? I live in a nice little trailer. It's actually a connex box with a door and an AC, but the effect is the same. I only have one room mate, wooo! the privilages of being an E-5. Though in reality most of my platoon only had to have one room mate, and only the most junior guys got put in a "can" with four.

I'll try to write something more exciting about Iraq later, maybe I'll tell you about being able to smell the cities a few miles out, or how you really don't want to think about the presence of all those empty water bottles in the porta-shitter when you go to shake hajis hand.

Something later... maybe.

It

I've been reading a lot of Stephen King lately. Just recently I've delved into the tome that is It. Over a thousand pages and easily the creepiest thing I've ever read. I only hope this improves my ghost story ability come next cave camping trip. But seriously... that man has one hell of a fucked up imagination.

That is all. Write me if your bored, the gods know I am.

Army Strong

Sometimes I wish I had a camera out here with me. Then when I really think about it, I realize I'd probably just use it to take pictures of the really obese or really old army national guardsman out here and post them on here. So it's probably better that I don't.

For Arthur

But Sir, there's no one left to kill.

So I just lost out on my last chance to go have any fun. I had volunteered to go work on a Military Training Team, training the Iraqi Army. It would have been great, and would probably be my last chance to get to go have any real fun. I was on the list, I was going, then they decided they had to send Martial Arts instructors and I got bumped. Now I'm stuck here in this stupid big safe base with nothing fun to do. This war is lame. I just hope the rumors about coming home early are true. I keep thinking back to my last deployment when things calmed down after the initial push into Fallujah, we had that one Lance Corporal dumb enough to ask a General "Sir, what are we still doing here?" The General answered something about sustainment operations, and the Lcpl immediately responded "But Sir, there's no one left to kill."
The General was General Mathis himself, and no, the Lcpl wasn't me. Again, there's more to this story, mabye I'll tell it later.

My pretties?

Just a short note... I'm sick and a little out of my head... damn Iraqi flu or something. That's not important... what is important, is that I finally figured out what the chow hall workers here on base are dressed like. Little red vests... funny little round hats. That's right, they look like the flying monkeys from the wizard of oz. I'll be damned if their fur isn't the same color too.

Google is smarter than I am

So I changed the time zone on my computer to Baghdad +8, and I'll be damned if the toolbar didn't set itself to Arabic to match. Let's just say it took a lot of random clicking to produce this post.

The Devil went down to Ramadi.

Actually no, we didn't make it. Which was just as well for the last of the guys we're relieving here at Al Asad. My first "mission" and I use that term lightly, was a joke. Though the tension for the Marines we were relieving was very palpable. And while nothing went wrong with our vics, everything else was going wrong for everyone else. We wound up sitting in traffic in the middle of one the last wild parts of the Anbar province twice. Each time our ride alongs from the other unit became visably more uneasy. It's not that what we were doing is really that stressful or dangerous. It's just that it was their last time. Their once last dance with the enemy then they got to go home. How jealous I was. I brought back one of those rare instances of not quite nostalgia, but definately a very emotional reverie. I thought back to my last run in '04, and while I spent that whole deployment openly gunning for a fight, completly stress free, I remember starting to get a certain unease when our replacements finally showed up in country. My hard ass walk became a little more jilted, I actually started seeking cover when we took incoming. All those things I laughed at before, suddenly felt a litter more sensical. And now that we're years and miles away from the level of violence I experienced back then, last night, just for a second, I remembered what it felt like. There's of course more to this story... but as with all of my stories, you'll have to pick my brain for it later. So I leave you once again, horribly safe and bored.

-The Demon

Turkish suits and Hookas and being sexy.

Since I've been here, there's been nothing but a prevailing rumor that we're coming home early, at the absolute latest march, at the earliest december, and most like in january. Eh whatever... I don't normally believe the rumors, since I'm normally the one who starts the most fantastical of them myself, but I find it highly unlikely that we'll be here the whole seven or eight months. With that in mind, I've already procurred the services of a proffessional tailor, and I've been steadily prying the local haji shops for a nice, large four hose hooka. What has blown my mind is the assumed monopoly the haji's here have on their prices, it used to be you could joo a haji down on anything. Now they barely even want to haggle with me. The little bastards. I guess they really do have a geographical monopoly out here in the middle of nowhere that we are. But that brings me to my next point. The mission we have here is not so sexy to say the least. I won't go into details, but it is hardly worth bringing a whole infantry battallion into country for (Ok, it's not). So what do I do? I go and do exactly what I was asked not to do, and something I have only done in the Marine Corp once in all of my six and half years. I volunteered for something. This may be my last chance to go and act like a real Marine, and while it's way to late in the game (read: war) for me to get to have any real fun, I might find some adventure yet. (Note: to my one reader, don't worry. If you just message me I'll tell you all about it.) And while I don't have all the details yet, lets just say, one day, (that day being yesterday) made all the difference in my motivation level. Details to come. Probably slowly. Lets just say, I made a career move.

-The Demon

Fun in the Sun.

Finally back in the middle east again... this place still smells bad, but at least I'm not being mortared hourly. Though seriously... this place is so safe I want to puke. I'm not sure how I'm going to handle it. The rumor is we're coming home early... I can only hope. I'm like a damn anacronism here. I relate my position to one of the tamed cowboys that used to be found in a late 1800s wild west show. This place is a combat zone amusement park and I'm the aging gunslinger brought out every afternoon at 3pm sharp for everyone's amusement. Maybe something exciting will happen, though my only reader probably wouldn't appreciate that. Eh.... whatever... I hardly hear from her anyways... I think I'll find a new hobby... Maybe I'll take to chewing out SNCOs.

Anyways kids, I'm here. Hopo to hear from you soon, and often.

Go fuck yourself San Diego

Ron Burgandy said it best. And yes that means I'm finally leaving this festering sore on civilizations ass. It feels like everytime I leave base, I find new and more annoying reasons to hate california. The other day I had to drive a friend in my unit up to some upscale pretentious sports bar in Laguna Beach where he had left his credit card after a particularly drunken outing. I didn't think too much of it, though I'm sure my brain was making some sort of connection between those annoying TV shows on MTV and the name Laguna Beach. Well anyways... it was by far the most annoyingly pretentious fag hole I've ever walked in. So after admiring their VIP section (lie, sports bars shouldn't have a VIP section for obvious reasons) and standing around trying not to accidently touch someone, lest their special brand of retardation rub off on me. I had another revalation. I saw this strange but easily identifiable link, between the perfectly coifed fags in that sports bar, and the losers who never left my nasty home town. I'm still trying to put my finger on exactly what it is. Of course I detest both groups of people, but I think it had something more to do with living shallow meaningless little lives. Yes the people from my home town are poor white trash, and the fags in that bar were wanna be hollywood socialites, but they both came up lacking to me. I guess it doesn't really matter where you're born, certain people are just going to come up lacking. Eh... it doens't really matter to me. The one tie I had to my home state is quickly coming undone. Looks like I'll be traveling on when I get home agian. Though it's not really home if you don't care about it anymore. Eh fuck it. To finish my story, I pulled a play out of my friend Will's notebook, and walked over to the juke box and put on some 3 Inches of Blood before I left. Everyone knows uptight socialites love pirate metal.

Epiphany

Last night when my insomnia was in full swing I had an epiphany. Too bad I didn't care enough to get up and write it down. Until then enjoy a couple of my favorite personal quotes.

"You can't crash if you don't drive fast enough."
and
"I'm like an insecurity vampire."

I'm sure you can figure it out from there.

That is all.

Worth more dead than alive.

Today I had to re-fill out my service members group life insurance information again. I've already tried to change it twice since this damn deployment began, fucking corp. Hopefully this time it'll stick. If it does, then I'll be worth roughly $120,000 dollars apiece to three of my closest friends. I wonder if they know who they are? Hopefully I'll be leaving sooner rather than later for country. As I've said over and over, I detest southern california with all of my being.

I want my life back.

On the plus side, I do get to yell at inferior human being quite a bit.

Too much life.

I finally got to go home, and while I did not quite get the reception I was hoping for, it was still an improvement on where I'd been. I'm back in california now and I'm basically waiting on a flight out of the country. But here's where the annoying part comes in. I flew back out here, only to spend half a day in uniform and then be released for the weekend. I have no desire to spend any time out here in this disgusting state, and why they could not just let us spend one last weekend with the people we actually wanted to be around is beyond me. Not that it really would have changed much I'm sure. I was given a pretty decent send off though. Too bad I'm such a fleeting memory to some people once I'm out of visual range.

I'm too much of cynic for this sort of thing.

More later, hopefully something with some substance.

I'm only happy when it rains.

For someone who loves the rain as much as I do, I find myself returning to the desert too often. Right now I'm packing to leave one desert for another, just to do the same thing in a month. And while I'm going to be out of contact with most everyone for the next month, I'm hoping to use this place to stay in contact with the those I've left behind. I'll be back, I'm just not sure when.