So, with losing home internet from Wed - Fri and being unable to post you'd think I would have tons and TONS of things to write about once I got back on.
Yeah, right...I'm surprised at how much nothing I got. Except for this goddam' head cold. So I guess I'm going with random updates because, you know, I have a blog, and I feel somewhat obligated to write something because I'd be guilty of...well...something, I'm sure, after all I was raised Catholic, so guilt is kind of like a food group.
I mentioned I had a greater than 50% chance of heading to Iraq or Afghanistan after this job was up this summer. Apparently, that meant about a 50.1% chance because the guy who figures out where I go next tells me no, I need to go to a school for a year first. So it looks like 2010 for me to head overseas again. Looks like we'll still be moving back to Rhode Island.
And I still need to get into shape - been a good week, interested to see what my weigh-in tells me tomorrow. I work on a plan where I eat right six days a week, and eat what I want on the seventh. Tomorrow is that seventh day. Fuck yeah, pancakes, waffles, bacon, eggs for breakfast, pork chops for dinner, and a trough of gravy-covered twinkies and frozen pizza rolls to consume between the two.
I KNOW you've seen this poor bastard by now. But did you know Brian Kilmeade wants to put two fingers in his frigid crack?
I haven't done a "Songs So Cheesy I Had To Put Them On My iPod" post in a while. This one isn't cheesy, but packed with folksy-dirty innuendo. I have a penchant for old sea songs and chanties, and this is one of my favorites. I especially enjoy the use of 18th century naval gunnery terms as metaphors for post-coital complications. Because, you know, guns as metaphors for penises is a stretch...
While Cruising Round Yarmouth - Ewan MacColl & A.L. Lloyd
Speaking of "fair damsels, the wind blowing free..."
The 2009 Women of Maritime Calendar (H/T @petermello)is apparently available online. I just love a woman who can sweat a halyard and reef a spanker. Look, I didn't come up with the title cuz if I did, the women wouldn't be "of" an adjective. It's kind of like saying I'm a man of sleepy.
In short: Night Terror (1977)
12 hours ago