In the beginning was the word, and the word was God

In the beginning was God, and all else was darkness and void, and without form.

So God created the heavens and the Earth.He created the sun, and the moon, and the stars, so that light might pierce the darkness.

The Earth, God divided between the land and the sea, and these he filled with many assorted creatures.

And the dark, salty, slimey creatures that inhabited the murkey depths of the oceans, God called sailors. And he dressed them accordingly. They had little trousers that looked like bells at the bottom. And their shirts had cute little flaps on them to hide the hickeys on their necks. He also gave them long sideburns and shabby looking beards. God nicknamed them “squids” and banished them to a lifetime at sea, so that normal folks would not have to associate with them. To further identify these unloved creatures, he called them “petty” and “commodore” instead of titles worthy of red-blooded men.

And the flakey creatures of the land, God called soldiers. And with a twinkle in his eye, and a sense of humor that only he could have, God made their trousers too short and their covers too large. He also made their pockets oversized, so that they may warm their hands. And to adorn their uniforms, God gave them badges in quantities that only a dime store owner could appreciate. And he gave them emblems and crests….and all sorts of shiny things that glittered…. and devices that dangled. (When you are God, you tend to get carried away)

On the 6th day, he thought about creating some air creatures for which he designed a Greyhound bus driver’s uniform, especially for Air Force flyboys. But he discarded the idea during the first week, and it was not until years later that some apostles resurrected this theme and established what we now know as the “wild blue yonder wonders”.

And on the 7th day, as you know, God rested. But on the 8th day, at 0730, God looked down upon the earth and was not happy.

God was not happy!

So he thought about his labors, and in his divine wisdom God created a divine creature. And this he called Marine. And these Marines, who God had created in his own image, were to be of the air, and of the land, and of the sea. And these he gave many wonderful uniforms. Some were green, some were blue with red trim. And in the early days, some were even a beautiful tan. He gave them practical fighting uniforms, so that they could wage war against the forces of Satan and evil. He gave them service uniforms for their daily work and training. And he gave them evening and dress uniforms……. sharp and stylish, handsome things, so that they might promenade with their ladies on Saturday night and impress the shit out of everybody! He even gave them swords, so that people who were not impressed, could be dealt with accordingly.

And at the end of the 8th day, God looked down upon the Earth and saw that it was good.

But was God happy? NO! God was still not happy!

Because in the course of his labors, he had forgotten one thing. He did not have a Marine uniform for himself.

But he thought about it, and thought about it, and finally satisfied himself in knowing that, well………

Not Everybody Can Be A Marine

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Rules for Dating a Marine’s Daughter

If you pull into my driveway and honk you’d better be delivering a package, because you’re sure not picking anything up.

Remove your hat when entering my humble abode. I may think you have something terrible under it and will do my best to exterminate it quickly, efficiently, and fatally.

You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter’s body, I will remove them.

Rules for dating a Marine's Daughter
If you make her cry, I will make you cry.

I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don’t take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, In order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.

I’m sure you’ve been told that in today’s world, sex without utilizing a “barrier method” of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.

In order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is “early.”

I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.

As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process that can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don’t you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?

The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which features chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.

Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a potbellied, balding, middle-aged, dimwitted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house.
Do not trifle with me. Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy outside of Chu Lai. When my Agent Orange or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home.

As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit your car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car.

There is no need for you to come inside.

The camouflaged face at the window is mine.

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How to Simulate Being in the Navy

1. Buy a dumpster, paint it gray inside and out, and live in it for three months.

2. Run all the pipes and wires in your house exposed on the walls.

3. Repaint your entire house every month.

4. Renovate your bathroom. Build a wall across the middle of the bathtub and move the shower head to chest level. When you take showers, make sure you turn off the water while you soap down. Take turns watching each other with a stop watch to limit usage.

5. Put lube oil in your humidifier and set it on high.

6. Once a week, blow air up your chimney, with a leaf blower and let the wind carry the soot onto your neighbor’s house. Ignore his complaints.

7. Once a month, take all major appliances apart and reassemble them.

8. Raise the thresholds and lower the headers of your front and back doors so that you either trip or bang your head every time you pass through them.

9. Disassemble and inspect your lawn mower every week.

10. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, turn your water heater temperature up to 200 degrees. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, turn the water heater off. On Saturdays and Sundays tell your family they use too much water, so no bathing will be allowed.

11. Raise your bed to within 6 inches of the ceiling, so you can’t turn over without getting out and then getting back in.

12. Sleep on the shelf in your closet. Replace the closet door with a curtain. Have your spouse whip open the curtain about 3 hours after you go to sleep, shine a flashlight in your eyes, and say “Sorry, wrong rack.”

13. Make your family qualify to operate each appliance in your house – dishwasher operator, blender technician, etc. Re-qualify every 6 months. No ice cream or liberty until all qual cards are completed.

14. Have your neighbor come over each day at 0500, blow a whistle so loud Helen Keller could hear it, and shout “Reveille, reveille, all hands heave out and trice up.”

15. Have your mother-in-law write down everything she’s going to do the following day, then have her make you stand in your back yard at 0600 while she reads it to you.

16. Submit a request chit (in triplicate) to your father-in-law requesting permission to leave your house before 1500 hours.

17. Empty all the garbage bins in your house and sweep the driveway three times a day, whether it needs it or not. “Now sweepers, sweepers, man your brooms, give the ship a clean sweep down fore and aft, empty all **** cans and butt kits!”

18. Have your neighbor collect all your mail for a month, read your magazines, and randomly lose every 5th item before delivering the rest.

19. Watch no TV except for movies played in the middle of the night. Have your family vote on which movie to watch, then show a different one — the same one every night.

20. When your children are in bed, run into their room with a megaphone shouting “Now – general quarters, general quarters! All hands man your battle stations!

21. Make your family’s menu a week ahead of time without consulting the pantry or refrigerator.

22. Post a menu on the kitchen door informing your family that they are having steak for dinner. Then make them wait in line for an hour. When they finally get to the kitchen, tell them you are out of steak, but they can have dried ham or hot dogs. Repeat daily until they ignore the menu and just ask for hot dogs.

23. Bake a cake. Prop up one side of the pan so the cake bakes unevenly. Spread icing real thick to level it off.

24. Get up every night around midnight and have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on stale bread. (mid rats)

25. Set your alarm clock to go off at random during the night. At the alarm, jump up and dress as fast as you can, making sure to button your top shirt button and tuck your pants into your socks. Run out into the backyard and uncoil the garden hose and put out a simulated fire.

26. Every week or so, throw your cat or dog into the pool and shout “Man overboard, port side!” Rate your family members on how fast they respond.

27. Put the headphones from your stereo on your head, but don’t plug them in. Hang a paper cup around your neck on a string. Stand in front of the stove, and speak into the paper cup, “Stove manned and ready.” After an hour or so, speak into the cup again “Stove secured.” Roll up the headphones and paper cup and stow them in a shoe box.

28. Make your family turn out all the lights and go to bed at 10 p.m. “Now taps, taps! Lights out! Maintain silence throughout the ship!” Then immediately have an 18-wheeler crash into your house. (For aircraft carrier sailors.)

29. Build a fire in a trash can in your garage. Loudly announce to your family, “This is a drill, this is a drill! Fire in hangar bay one!”

30. Place a podium at the end of your driveway. Have your family stand in front of the podium for 4-hour intervals. (Best done when the weather is worst. January is a good time.)

31. Next time there’s a bad thunderstorm in your area, find the biggest horse you can, put a two-inch mattress on his back, strap yourself to it and turn him loose in a barn for six hours. Then get up and go to work.

32. For former engineers: bring your lawn mower into the living room, and run it all day long.

33. Make coffee using eighteen scoops of budget priced coffee grounds per pot, and let the pot simmer for 5 hours before drinking.

34. Have someone under the age of ten give you a haircut with sheep shears.

35. Sew the back pockets of your jeans onto the front. 36. Add 1/3 cup of diesel fuel to your dirty laundry.

37. Take hourly readings on your electric and water meters.

38. Every couple of weeks, dress up in your best clothes and go to the scummiest part of town. Find the most run down, trashiest bar, and drink beer until you are hammered, then walk all the way home.

39. Lock yourself and your family in the house for six weeks. Tell them that at the end of the 6th week you’ll take them to Disney World for liberty. At the end of the 6th week, inform them the trip to Disney World has been canceled because they need to get ready for an inspection, and it will be another week before they can leave the house.

40. Line your family up and tell then they must be inoculated prior to going “ashore” due to local diseases. After waiting two hours, stab them with multiple punctures in both arms from a dull sewing needle. Don’t let the rubbing alcohol dry so it burns more…

41. Buy everyone a single pair of blue coveralls and have them wear it for the next three months. Tell them they can wash it and their skives “tomorrow”. When tomorrow comes, repeat message they can wash “tomorrow”.

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C-Rations: A Love Story

I have to tell someone. Keeping it a secret all these years has taken its toll on my sanity. You’re the only one I trust and hope you will understand. Don’t judge me too harshly.

I was an Avionics consultant on H-34’s and had a contractual agreement with Uncle Sam. Not a difficult assignment, but it almost paid well. Their headquarters in D.C. had asked if I’d go look at some problems in a quiet little place called Ky Ha, VIETNAM. Wouldn’t take long I was told. So, I booked passage on the Princeton and arrived late in August. It was a hot, dusty little town without one decent restaurant and no bar. Picked up my blanket and looked for an empty embarkation box to sleep in. That night, under the gaze of a floating flare and the gentle, rhythmic sound of M-60’s, I slept.

I’m not certain when it was that I first realized I was in love with C-Rations. It must have been a gradual thing because I never did go through that knock me out of my socks phase. I just seemed to wake up one morning, opened the box and it was there. I knew. C knew. As if the master plan of the universe had placed us together. Together! But, only for one of life’s cruel short periods of time.

We both knew it was wrong. C came from a family of Flag Rank Officers, General Foods. And, me? I was just a kid from the south side of Memphis. Young and innocent. She was bright and shiny with the words PROPERTY OF THE U.S.GOVERNMENT stamped on her full, smooth, rounded sides. Cold to the touch but, oh so warm when held tightly over a flame. Whereas, I was just a piece of Marine trash in a dirty flight suit and unpolished boots. But, each time I saw C I fell deeper into the spell of her charms. It couldn’t be simple heartburn.

I’d heard what men said about her. How her Ham & Limas were untouchable. Her Spaghetti needed seasoning. The saltpeter they had forced her to be with when she was young. The tasteless rolls and green cigarettes. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. I wanted her. Once I found her I wanted to protect her. To keep her from all those John Waynes and K-Bars they had used to open her. They didn’t understand her. They didn’t know C as I knew C. I loved her.

We had to steal our moments together. First we saw each other twice a day. Gradually, we grasped for more and more time. Anytime. Just to be with each other. For as I drew nearer to C, I could feel the emotions start from deep within my gut. My feelings would often run from both ends while knowing this was true love. The highs and lows of our love flowed together like nothing I’d ever experienced before. All I wanted to do was be with C. To Hell with the rest of the world.

Then it happened. Someone whispered a rumor. I heard it first in the four holer and later in the Green Garden Hose Shower Room. Nasty rumors which couldn’t be true. They said C was going away. Her father had sent her an ultimatum. Either be on the 0600 Marlog or she was to be disinherited. She’d never be able to see her little brother roll of toilet paper again. Her teenage plastic spoon. Her aunt Fruit Cocktail. She had to choose between ME and her filthy rich, godforsaken family. Why did it have to come to this?

I tried all night to reach her on the field phone. Her new roommate, SPAM, didn’t know where she was. I was frantic. I looked for her everywhere, but it was too late. She was gone. And with her went my heart and Kaeopectate. I was left with only the memories.

I’m older now and can afford to eat at almost any Burger King I want to. I no longer have a consulting contract with CMC, Inc. I still think about her though. The nights we spent together during the monsoons in our hardback tent. Just the two of us and eight of our closest friends. Whenever I reach for the Tabasco sauce I see C standing there with the moonlight glistening off her open top. The fragrance of her gravy still wisps through the air. She was so beautiful. And, for awhile, she was mine.

“Fast Eddy” Creamer

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Marine Humor in Combat

Received this via e-mail. Love the video…

“I fell out of my chair laughing at this video:

A US Marine at a roadway checkpoint, bored to tears, talking to a Baghdad-bound Iraqi taxi driver. You have to understand Marine humor in combat is a little on the sick side, but very funny. This lad’s sarcasm and cynicism is profound and hilarious. This is why the Commandant of the Marine Corps tried to have the Marines pulled from Iraq and sent to Afghanistan , because the lance corporals were complaining that they had no one to shoot at. Of course, Secretary Gates turned him down, so now the Marines are passing the word via cab drivers for the insurgents to come out and play.”

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