Wednesday, 30 November 2011

old farts

Drafting Guys Over 60...This is funny and obviously written by a Former Soldier... 
New Direction for any war: Send Service Vets over 60!
I am over 60 and the Armed Forces thinks I'm too old to track down terrorists. You can't be older than 42 to join the military. They've got the whole thing ass-backwards.
Instead of sending 18-year olds off to fight, they ought to take us old guys. You shouldn't be able to join a military unit until you're at least 35.
For starters, researchers say 18-year-olds think about sex every 10 seconds. Old guys only think about sex a couple of times a day, leaving us more than 28,000 additional seconds per day to concentrate on the enemy.
Young guys haven't lived long enough to be cranky, and a cranky soldier is a dangerous soldier. 'My back hurts! I can't sleep, I'm tired and hungry.' We are impatient and maybe letting us kill some asshole that desperately deserves it will make us feel better and shut us up for awhile.
An 18-year-old doesn't even like to get up before 10am. Old guys always get up early to pee, so what the hell. Besides, like I said, I'm tired and can't sleep and since I'm already up, I may as well be up killing somefanatical son-of-a-bitch.
If captured we couldn't spill the beans because we'd forget where we put them. In fact, name, rank, and serial number would be a real brainteaser.
Boot camp would be easier for old guys. We're used to getting screamed and yelled at and we're used to soft food. We've also developed an appreciation for guns. We've been using them for years as an excuse to get out of the house, away from the screaming and yelling.
They could lighten up on the obstacle course however... I've been in combat and never saw a single 20-foot wall with rope hanging over the side, nor did I ever do any pushups after completing basic training. Actually, the running part is kind of a waste of energy, too... I've never seen anyone outrun a bullet.
An 18-year-old has the whole world ahead of him. He's still learning to shave, to start a conversation with a pretty girl. He still hasn't figured out that a baseball cap has a brim to shade his eyes, not the back of his head.
These are all great reasons to keep our kids at home to learn a little more about life before sending them off into harm's way. Let us old guys track down those dirty rotten coward terrorists. The last thing an enemy would want to see is a couple million pissed off old farts with attitudes and automatic weapons, who know that their best years are already behind them.
HEY!! How about recruiting Women over 50 in menopause!!! You think men have attitudes?? Ohhhhhhhhhhhh my God!!! If nothing else, put them on border patrol. They'll have it secured the first night!
Send this to all of your senior's in big type so they can read it.

Thursday, 10 November 2011

The Brown Brothers Revenge

There were two of them the Brown brothers Bob, short dark and stocky, and Les tall and blond. Both maintained they didn’t know who their father was and nor did their mother. When asked she said “oh some sailor”. Throughout their childhood and teens there were to be many sailors and so it was inevitable that this would be the vocation they would follow, that and the fact that they were so notorious in their area that nobody in their right mind would employ them.
They were only signed on the Arlanza as last minute replacements and by an agent who didn’t inform the Old Man until we were underway. He was heard to mumble that not only did he have Coco and her crowd to worry about but now two bloody lunatics.
All went well for the first 10 days and then the inevitable happened. The Arlanza was unusual in that the Bridge was separated from the main accommodation by the number 3 hatch the derrick’s of which were supported by 4 large and tall Samson posts which the Mate decided needed painting.
And as the Brown Bros had been on their best behaviour they were given the task. Not a good idea this was a job usually seen as a punishment. Done from a bosons chair and with the pitching and rolling of the ship it was uncomfortable and messy but Les and Bob made no complaint even seeming to relish the task. It was hot so both worked in just their shorts, that is until a passenger complained that two half naked men could be seen from the boat deck swinging about like apes in the rigging.
So word was sent down from the bridge that shirts were to be worn everywhere aft of the bridge. That lunch time the bros were seen loitering around the galley but turned up for work that afternoon suitably attired still wearing their shorts but shirted.
Up the samson post’s they went and started the task of swinging and painting as before. All went “swinging” until some passengers started to gather and point toward the two, it wasn’t long before a messenger came scurrying up to the bridge saying that there were two men up the masts exposing themselves. The Old Man stormed to the back of the bridge to see the aforesaid Bros nonchalantly painting away with what looked like a very fat third leg protruding from their shorts.
By now there was quite a gathering of passengers some now calling out and pointing to the offending appendages. The Old Man knew he had to do something but at the back of his mind there was something telling him this wasn’t right. You two tidy yourselves up make yourselves decent.
Fatal, for with that, in unison they drew their deck knives and grasping the end of said offending piece and with one slash cut it free and hurled it over their shoulder into the sea.
Some say that a couple of the lady’s fainted, I don’t know but I do know that the Old Man was virtually on his knees by the time he got back inside the wheelhouse the tears pouring down his cheeks, sausages the bastards sausages was all he could say.

Friday, 4 November 2011

The romance of 1975

Soft curling petals
That when touched tremble
And send tiny drops of dew
Rolling down their silken surface
To caress my fingertips

I stroke its soft flesh
And feel it quiver at my touch
I hold it to my face
And feel t’s gentle movement
Pulsing against my lips

Its perfume fills me
And draws me ever deeper
Until I am overwhelmed
And lost in its beauty
Never to forget