Do not f’ with me

Don’t even think about saying, “I requested that last week and you never sent it to me.” Wrong asshole. I keep all of my sent emails and I send sensitive items with read reciepts. You read it on 4/14 or at least opened it. Don’t come to me saying you never got it. Bullshit. This isn’t my first rodeo. Can you tell I’m in a foul mood today? I’ve been sick for 2 days and I have to come back to this bullshit.

So I’ve been exchanging emails with a buddy of mine from Germany. He was an Enlisted medic before, but know he’s a Officer in missiles. WTF? We played softball and grabass together so we had some good times. What started the email exchange was I couldn’t find this CD in my collection:

While we were in Germany we listened to this over and over. Mrs. OR threatened to divorce me many times if I played it again. We would fire it up around 9:00pm on Friday night and play it over and over until Sunday afternoon. We would consume mass quantities of beer as we were listening to it. Good times. We would play that damn CD on 11 and sing to it. We had many people complain to us and tell us to play something different.

We played in a softball tournament every year up in the Northern part of Germany. It was on the border of Holland and Belgium. It was a NATO base actually. AWACs were flown out of there. Beats me why the tourney was there when they had no medical detachement. It was an all medic tournament so we had people from England, Italy and around Germany, It was a 3 day tournament over a weekend. We would arrive on Friday afternoon and get our campsite up and functioning. I always hung my sign up, “Free Mustache Rides.”

We would celebrate the campsite erection by crackin’ a beer. And then the serious drinking would commence.

We would usually drink until 2 or 3am. Lots of nudity would be involved. One time a glow stick was broken and smeared all over the inside of a tent. After it was removed from my ass. The last time i went to the tourney, I remember rolling over in my tent like at 9:00am and hearing a game going on. I thought, “What idiots would be playing at this ungodly hour?” It was our team. So I didn’t make it to that game. The last year I went we got eliminated by Saturday afternoon. So instead of driving home, we decided to stay and drink. On Sunday afternoon I was pretty ripe because the shower facilities were less than desirable. I don’t shower with other dudes because I don’t want ti put them to shame. Jason Read and I were sitting on the bleachers and I was in a farting kind of mood. I would cut a huge fart on the metal bleachers and point to Jason when someone turned around. Finally someone said, “Unless he is a fartuiliquist, I don’t think it’s him. Would you please stop?” Like I said, good times.

I’ve run out of steam, so I’ll write more later. Out!