If you're not on the East Coast of the United States, please excuse the following well wishes for a region normally beset by blizzards, urban sprawl, and the cast of The Jersey Shore. If you'd like, you can move on to the below continuation of my Navy saga. Or you can stay and feel superior to those of us who are flooded, out of power, and still live next to New Jersey. Just don't ask for any sympathy from us the next time you have mudslides, wildfires, Kate Winslet, or Al Qaeda decides it's high time for you to go. You've been warned.
Anyway, I hope everybody did okay with Hurricane Irene. We made out pretty well here at Penwasser Place. Even though we had torrential rain, high winds, and volcano eruptions, our power never went out. On that note, I'd like to thank the neighbors down the street for letting us sacrifice their virgin child (Luckily, their son was into Dungeons and Dragons) to Power God in Sky for sparing us from spoiled food and no flushing toilets. Whew! Unlike Osama Bin Laden, we dodged that bullet.
Frankly, I think hurricanes blow (NOTE: that is the last time I use that hideous hurricane joke. I promise).
|You should have seen my beard|
April, 1980- I total my car in an ill-advised late night run to North Carolina to drink on the beach
with my shipmates (hmm, you know, now that I write that, it sounds kinda gay). I reenlist for four years for a $12,000 bonus. Yes, the two events are related.
|"Can I stop sucking in my gut now?"|
Oh, yeah, baby, still sportin' the stash.
|NOTE: Not me. Inserted mainly for effect|