My Job, My Hell...

Share a survival experience with us and explain what you learned from it. You might help someone.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by 12_Gauge_Chimp » Mon Jul 27, 2020 11:43 pm

Speaking of getting mouthy with cops, I'm reminded of an incident that happened at the first and only rodeo I've ever been to. Which now that I think about it, was almost 30 years ago.

The short story is my dad got drunk, decided to get into an argument with my mother as we're leaving the rodeo arena and then take a swing at probably the tallest cop in Pecos, Texas. It didn't end well for Dad and he got planted on his ass by this cop.

The long story goes like this.

We go to the rodeo and enjoy it. Dad drinks as much as he can without passing out and as we're leaving the rodeo, decides to go after Mom because she didn't like him getting drunk and then want to drive the family home. Dad takes offense to that and goes off on a Budweiser fueled tirade. This attracts the attention of two Pecos PD officers, one of whom was probably about 7 foot tall or maybe a little more. Not sure why this is an important detail, but it's definitely one of the major things I remember from then. Anyway, the two cops come over and try to calm Dad down. Dad decides it's a good idea to get belligerent with the cops and then to take a swing at the tall cop. Yeah, that ended about as badly for him as you'd expect.

You remember the scene in "The Princess Bride" where Andre the Giant clubs the weird albino henchman over the head ? That's pretty much what happened to my dad. Dad takes a swing, gets clubbed on the head and gets planted on his ass by the giant cop.

A couple seconds later and he's handcuffed in the back of a cruiser. Dad goes to jail and Mom takes the family home to Coyanosa (which was about 30 miles away) and goes back to Pecos to bail Dad out the next morning. And that's the end of it. Dad never talked about it for the rest of his life and I think he may have blocked it out or he simply couldn't remember it because he was so drunk at the time.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Tue Jul 28, 2020 1:07 pm

12_Gauge_Chimp wrote:
Mon Jul 27, 2020 11:43 pm
Speaking of getting mouthy with cops, I'm reminded of an incident that happened at the first and only rodeo I've ever been to. Which now that I think about it, was almost 30 years ago.

The short story is my dad got drunk, decided to get into an argument with my mother as we're leaving the rodeo arena and then take a swing at probably the tallest cop in Pecos, Texas. It didn't end well for Dad and he got planted on his ass by this cop.

The long story goes like this.

We go to the rodeo and enjoy it. Dad drinks as much as he can without passing out and as we're leaving the rodeo, decides to go after Mom because she didn't like him getting drunk and then want to drive the family home. Dad takes offense to that and goes off on a Budweiser fueled tirade. This attracts the attention of two Pecos PD officers, one of whom was probably about 7 foot tall or maybe a little more. Not sure why this is an important detail, but it's definitely one of the major things I remember from then. Anyway, the two cops come over and try to calm Dad down. Dad decides it's a good idea to get belligerent with the cops and then to take a swing at the tall cop. Yeah, that ended about as badly for him as you'd expect.

You remember the scene in "The Princess Bride" where Andre the Giant clubs the weird albino henchman over the head ? That's pretty much what happened to my dad. Dad takes a swing, gets clubbed on the head and gets planted on his ass by the giant cop.

A couple seconds later and he's handcuffed in the back of a cruiser. Dad goes to jail and Mom takes the family home to Coyanosa (which was about 30 miles away) and goes back to Pecos to bail Dad out the next morning. And that's the end of it. Dad never talked about it for the rest of his life and I think he may have blocked it out or he simply couldn't remember it because he was so drunk at the time.

All my grandparents told me was that no matter how I felt (dealing with Cops) I was to pay them nothing but respect, respond with a honorific, and be on my best behavior. Oh and never ever run, no matter what, because they would shoot you as you ran away. Of course after they left choice words or a hissy fit were allowed.

My father and mother's take on it was I should never even hit the cops radar. Oh and my Father said he would not bail me out, or my brother John.

My only "brush" with the American police came when the kids I hung out with and I were out riding Honda CT70's and Tommy wanted to take the streets instead of going off road. Now I have ran from the shore patrol in Olongapo City, and I did pop up on the Shore Patrol's radar in Rota Spain, and Naples Italy. No witnesses that would talk, so it was just forgotten. Although I did find out that my First Sergeant noted two incidents in his file and forwarded it to my next command.

It was really shorter to take the road, rather than a circuitous trail to his house.

The plan was to stick to the road, if by some slim chance a Sheriffs deputy saw us we would all split up and hit the woods.

Of course the Goddess of Luck was not on our side, so I immediately took off.

None of the other guys rabbited, and of course I was ratted out.

So the Sheriff's deputy was sitting in my Father's drive way when I got home, worse was the after the Cop left, but I'll be doggone if my Father didn't give the guy a beer.d
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Sat Aug 08, 2020 11:11 am

Something that popped into my mind last night, could be called famous last lines......I lost another military friend on 7/28/2020 and just found out about it last week.


Padilla: I was drugged and robbed last night.

Me: Really? Really? You honestly think that you are the first person to ever be falling down drunk (he swore he was drugged too, bu then again so would I if I had popped positive on a urine test) and end up getting robbed by a woman.

Fitz: Dude, it would be really interesting if you could get some of that for our next mandatory unit fun day/party.

Morgan: Man we have to find her!

Me: The possibility of us finding her are about zero to none. In fact this farking conversation is over. I'm out!

Group: Come on Corporal! It would be funny.

Me: Enough disturbing stuff happens in this platoon as it is. So no heck no, fark no, I'm out.

Davis: Corporal! What are you talking about?

Fitz: Yea, Priest you can't say something like that and just walk out!

Me: You farkers think I'm the one that should be in the pysch ward? Just let me tell you one last thing. There are more of you guys than me, be thankful that you do not know what happens while you've been sleeping soundly. I mean sleeping it off.

For some reason they were awfully quite.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

Laager
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Sat Aug 08, 2020 1:30 pm

Laager wrote:
Sat Aug 08, 2020 11:11 am
Something that popped into my mind last night, could be called famous last lines......I lost another military friend on 7/28/2020 and just found out about it last week.


Padilla: I was drugged and robbed last night.

Me: Really? Really? You honestly think that you are the first person to ever be falling down drunk (he swore he was drugged too, bu then again so would I if I had popped positive on a urine test) and end up getting robbed by a woman.

Fitz: Dude, it would be really interesting if you could get some of that for our next mandatory unit fun day/party.

Morgan: Man we have to find her!

Me: The possibility of us finding her are about zero to none. In fact this farking conversation is over. I'm out!

Group: Come on Corporal! It would be funny.

Me: Enough disturbing stuff happens in this platoon as it is. So not only no, but heck no and fark no, I'm out.

Davis: Corporal! What are you talking about?

Fitz: Yea, Priest you can't say something like that and just walk out!

Me: You farkers think I'm the one that should be in the pysch ward? Just let me tell you one last thing. There are more of you guys than me, be thankful that you do not know what happens while you've been sleeping soundly. I mean sleeping it off.

For some reason they were awfully quite.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

Laager
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Sat Aug 08, 2020 1:52 pm

Okay here's another:


SSG Banks: Priest, gather the platoon, I need to talk to them before they get their passes.

Me: Roger that Staff Sergeant. If you farkers want your passes, get your farking rear ends up and get into formation. The Staff Sergeant said anyone that farks around loses his pass. They almost stomped on me as they tried to run me over.

You could never just say something like, Hey guys, the Platoon Sergeant wants to have a meeting. Let's go. It seemed most of them did not react well to politeness, evidently it was a sign of weakness.

Me: Staff Sergeant! All troops present and accounted for!

SSG Banks: Okay, I know we have been out in the field for the last two months, but can you please, please try to keep a low profile while we are in Garrison? Corporal, I'm looking at you, because I am talking to you.

Me:Staff Sergeant you can count on me! I don't know about the rest off these farkers.

SSG Banks: Priest......I'm begging you, I'll drop to my knees if you want, but please, I don't want to deal with one more shenanigans, lessons, revenge spree, or whatever it is that you do or don't do. My Birthday and Christmas are both coming up, that's all I want from you.

Me: Like I said Staff Sergeant, you can count on me! I tried to put as much sincerity as I could into it. But somehow I had the feeling that Staff Sergeant Banks was not "buying it" for some strange reason.

After my usual ville routine, get some street chow (against standing orders), hit the used paperback book store, hit the bar next door for one beer, one shot of Tequila and a game or two of pool. I headed back to the Post with Padilla.

The walk back to the Post was quiet and we made it all the way back to the Company area without any issues/incidents, even the ones we were known to cause .

Unfortunately, on Sunday (we had a standard half day off on Sundays when in Garrison), the First Sergeant found someone (Cragun, the midnight pisser) from our platoon in the latrine, passed out.

Completely wrapped up in duct tape, evidently someone had walked off with a case of duct tape just before we went out into the field.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

Laager
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Sat Aug 08, 2020 1:55 pm

Laager wrote:
Sat Aug 08, 2020 1:52 pm
Okay here's another:


SSG Banks: Priest, gather the platoon, I need to talk to them before they get their passes.

Me: Roger that Staff Sergeant. If you farkers want your passes, get your farking rear ends up and get into formation. The Staff Sergeant said anyone that farks around loses his pass. They almost stomped on me as they tried to run me over.

You could never just say something like, Hey guys, the Platoon Sergeant wants to have a meeting. Let's go. It seemed most of them did not react well to politeness, evidently it was a sign of weakness.

Me: Staff Sergeant! All troops present and accounted for!

SSG Banks: Okay, I know we have been out in the field for the last two months, but can you please, please try to keep a low profile while we are in Garrison? Corporal, I'm looking at you, because I am talking to you.

Me:Staff Sergeant you can count on me! I don't know about the rest off these farkers.

SSG Banks: Priest......I'm begging you, I'll drop to my knees if you want, but please, I don't want to deal with one more shenanigans, lessons, revenge spree, or whatever it is that you do or don't do. My Birthday and Christmas are both coming up, that's all I want from you.

Me: Like I said Staff Sergeant, you can count on me! I tried to put as much sincerity as I could into it. But somehow I had the feeling that Staff Sergeant Banks was not "buying it" for some strange reason.

After my usual ville routine, get some street chow (against standing orders), hit the used paperback book store, hit the bar next door for one beer, one shot of Tequila and a game or two of pool. I headed back to the Post with Padilla.

The walk back to the Post was quiet and we made it all the way back to the Company area without any issues/incidents, even the ones we were known to cause .

Unfortunately, on Sunday (we had a standard half day off on Sundays when in Garrison), the First Sergeant found someone (Cragun, the midnight pisser, he would get drunk and "dream that he was using the urinal, while pissing either on someone in their rack, on their rack or on the floor) from our platoon in the latrine, passed out.

Completely wrapped up in duct tape, evidently someone had walked off with a case of duct tape just before we went out into the field.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

Laager
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Sat Aug 08, 2020 2:16 pm

Recently Lil was lucky enough to catch me chewing on grunt candy. Actually one of the grandchildren ratted me out.

So I got pretty much the same speech she always gave back in the day. She thought I was chewing on breath mints.


Lil: This is a "Controlled Substance"!! Your name isn't even on the bottle! Was this prescribed to you?

Me: Sort of....Doc hands the industrial sized bottles when we are in the field. Evidently, Percocet is to the go to cure for temperatures, assorted muscle strain, blisters, headaches, sucking chest wounds, black eyes, STD's broken bones, etc.

Lil: There is a severe risk for addiction and dependence. It can also cause respiratory distress and even death when taken in high doses or when combined with other substances, especially alcohol. It is supposed to be prescribed for moderate to moderately severe pain.


Me: Uhhhhh, I had one beer.

Lil: It can cause you to die when you combine it with alcohol.

Me: But I only had one beer. It's not like I have not done it before. I'm still alive and kicking.

Lil: It can cause respiratory distress and even death. I didn't say it would be the pills or beer that caused you to die.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by boskone » Sat Aug 08, 2020 3:03 pm

Laager wrote:
Sat Aug 08, 2020 2:16 pm
Recently Lil was lucky enough to catch me chewing on grunt candy. Actually one of the grandchildren ratted me out.

So I got pretty much the same speech she always gave back in the day. She thought I was chewing on breath mints.


Lil: This is a "Controlled Substance"!! Your name isn't even on the bottle! Was this prescribed to you?

Me: Sort of....Doc hands the industrial sized bottles when we are in the field. Evidently, Percocet is to the go to cure for temperatures, assorted muscle strain, blisters, headaches, sucking chest wounds, black eyes, STD's broken bones, etc.

Lil: There is a severe risk for addiction and dependence. It can also cause respiratory distress and even death when taken in high doses or when combined with other substances, especially alcohol. It is supposed to be prescribed for moderate to moderately severe pain.


Me: Uhhhhh, I had one beer.

Lil: It can cause you to die when you combine it with alcohol.

Me: But I only had one beer. It's not like I have not done it before. I'm still alive and kicking.

Lil: It can cause respiratory distress and even death. I didn't say it would be the pills or beer that caused you to die.
So...she threatened to Vader you?

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by 12_Gauge_Chimp » Sat Aug 08, 2020 4:32 pm

boskone wrote:
Sat Aug 08, 2020 3:03 pm
Laager wrote:
Sat Aug 08, 2020 2:16 pm
Recently Lil was lucky enough to catch me chewing on grunt candy. Actually one of the grandchildren ratted me out.

So I got pretty much the same speech she always gave back in the day. She thought I was chewing on breath mints.


Lil: This is a "Controlled Substance"!! Your name isn't even on the bottle! Was this prescribed to you?

Me: Sort of....Doc hands the industrial sized bottles when we are in the field. Evidently, Percocet is to the go to cure for temperatures, assorted muscle strain, blisters, headaches, sucking chest wounds, black eyes, STD's broken bones, etc.

Lil: There is a severe risk for addiction and dependence. It can also cause respiratory distress and even death when taken in high doses or when combined with other substances, especially alcohol. It is supposed to be prescribed for moderate to moderately severe pain.


Me: Uhhhhh, I had one beer.

Lil: It can cause you to die when you combine it with alcohol.

Me: But I only had one beer. It's not like I have not done it before. I'm still alive and kicking.

Lil: It can cause respiratory distress and even death. I didn't say it would be the pills or beer that caused you to die.
So...she threatened to Vader you?
This is probably not the first time that's happened to Laager.

Probably won't be the last time either.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by tony d tiger » Sat Aug 08, 2020 5:03 pm

12_Gauge_Chimp wrote:
Sat Aug 08, 2020 4:32 pm
boskone wrote:
Sat Aug 08, 2020 3:03 pm
Laager wrote:
Sat Aug 08, 2020 2:16 pm
Recently Lil was lucky enough to catch me chewing on grunt candy. Actually one of the grandchildren ratted me out.

So I got pretty much the same speech she always gave back in the day. She thought I was chewing on breath mints.


Lil: This is a "Controlled Substance"!! Your name isn't even on the bottle! Was this prescribed to you?

Me: Sort of....Doc hands the industrial sized bottles when we are in the field. Evidently, Percocet is to the go to cure for temperatures, assorted muscle strain, blisters, headaches, sucking chest wounds, black eyes, STD's broken bones, etc.

Lil: There is a severe risk for addiction and dependence. It can also cause respiratory distress and even death when taken in high doses or when combined with other substances, especially alcohol. It is supposed to be prescribed for moderate to moderately severe pain.


Me: Uhhhhh, I had one beer.

Lil: It can cause you to die when you combine it with alcohol.

Me: But I only had one beer. It's not like I have not done it before. I'm still alive and kicking.

Lil: It can cause respiratory distress and even death. I didn't say it would be the pills or beer that caused you to die.
So...she threatened to Vader you?
This is probably not the first time that's happened to Laager.

Probably won't be the last time either.
Percocet and beer will make it hard to steer;
Vicodin and vodka - now that will kick ya in the rear. :roll:
Tony D Tiger

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Sat Aug 08, 2020 5:48 pm

tony d tiger wrote:
Sat Aug 08, 2020 5:03 pm
12_Gauge_Chimp wrote:
Sat Aug 08, 2020 4:32 pm
boskone wrote:
Sat Aug 08, 2020 3:03 pm
Laager wrote:
Sat Aug 08, 2020 2:16 pm
Recently Lil was lucky enough to catch me chewing on grunt candy. Actually one of the grandchildren ratted me out.

So I got pretty much the same speech she always gave back in the day. She thought I was chewing on breath mints.


Lil: This is a "Controlled Substance"!! Your name isn't even on the bottle! Was this prescribed to you?

Me: Sort of....Doc hands the industrial sized bottles when we are in the field. Evidently, Percocet is to the go to cure for temperatures, assorted muscle strain, blisters, headaches, sucking chest wounds, black eyes, STD's broken bones, etc.

Lil: There is a severe risk for addiction and dependence. It can also cause respiratory distress and even death when taken in high doses or when combined with other substances, especially alcohol. It is supposed to be prescribed for moderate to moderately severe pain.


Me: Uhhhhh, I had one beer.

Lil: It can cause you to die when you combine it with alcohol.

Me: But I only had one beer. It's not like I have not done it before. I'm still alive and kicking.

Lil: It can cause respiratory distress and even death. I didn't say it would be the pills or beer that caused you to die.
So...she threatened to Vader you?
This is probably not the first time that's happened to Laager.

Probably won't be the last time either.
Percocet and beer will make it hard to steer;
Vicodin and vodka - now that will kick ya in the rear. :roll:
Usually that is the point where I take her seriously. I saw her beat the ever loving crap out of her three brothers (the youngest one ran screaming for his mom. Oh and they were all in their 30's). They were all being butt wipes and she started with one, another decided to break them up, it back one on two, then I don't know what the third one was thinking but somehow he was sucked in and it got ugly from there. I should point out that their Mother went ballistic on the youngest one then on the other three.

Now granted they caught me on the roof of our apartment drinking beer, they tried to get me to have Lil give up her share of their inheritance.

I may have a tad bit of anti social/authority behavior issues and trouble relating to others but when her three brothers asked me to go to a juicy bar to visit their girlfriends (all three were married), I was smart enough to say thanks but no thanks. So they went down an cried to Lil that I didn't like them, because I would not go out drinking with them. I should point out that their deceased father was on display in his front room and had barely turned room temp, when they started this line of attack.

I told Lil, that I did not feel comfortable going to a bar with them. Then explained why, something about shifty brother in laws and 18 year old strippers/bar girls made my gut start screaming Danger! Lil was all for it right up until I told her where we were going and that if she was okay with a 18 year old hard bodied (built for speed) Fillipina bouncing on my lap, then I suppose I could sit back and enjoy the ride.

She said her brothers weren't like that and went looking for them. I grabbed a 12 pack of San Miguel and some ice and hit the roof. Her brothers came up and tried to talk me into telling her to give up her share of the inheritance. I told them that I may be certifiably insane, but I'm not stupid. If I want my rear end handed to me, I can get into my own trouble and will take the consequences. So nut up and tell her yourself.

Right about then Lil came up, asked her middle brother about the "girlfriend" thing, he hemmed and hawed but finally said yep, and the other two nutted up and admitted it.

Now I may have been a bit intoxicated, but I sort of don't believe that my oh hey Yobo Ko, they want me to tell you that you don't deserve or need your share of inheritance and I told them that they could nut up and take the butt kicking like men.

Shortly after the older brother agreed that she didn't need it or deserve it, the fists started flying.

I may have gone over board when I started yelling for her to kick them in the nuts (if she could find them), eye gouging may also have been mentioned. All in all it was a heck of a show, I had learned that you never try to break up a dog fight, or get in between Lil or Sam when they started kicking butt and not even bothering to take names.

As our son told me once, Dad its like a black hole. If you get anywhere close the pull of the black hole will suck you in and then you end up getting your rear end handed to you. Even if you had nothing to do with firing up the black hole.

Three years ago, she found out three of her brothers were embezzling money from her while we were staying in the PI for a month or two. All she told me was that she was having a family meeting. I said I'm going for my regularly scheduled shave (razor shave for .50 cents, so every three days I hit the barbershop), now the easy way was cross the street, then maybe 20 feet to a corner and there it was. One of my favorite nieces came running in and wanted me to go intervene because Auntie was beating her dad and uncles with a skillet.

I said no, I'm not getting my head popped by a skillet. My mother used a cast iron one and that is no fun. So instead of turning right and going to the barbershop, I went left, walked two blocks until I could cross over to the main drag, then turned right and walked two blocks back to hit the barber shop.

So when I see that certain look, the one that is the prequel to grabbing an iron skillet and start popping heads, I bow my head and tuck my tail and ease out. Sudden moves can be considered to be grounds for an immediate attack.

Now I have had my rear end chewed for 40 years, I don't mind taking it because I have a tendency to push thing and fall back on the your orders were not specific enough, you did not say that I couldn't strap our 5 year old daughter/son onto the back of my Harley and drive down the road at 55 mph.

How was I to know she could walk and drank my beer? I was cleaning weapons, its weapons cleaning Wednesday.

Well you asked me to marry you, and I didn't have anything better going on at the time, tends to torque her a bit. I think it is the last part, but I would rather not know. Knowledge is power and I tend to use it at the most in opportune times.

The last time I was injured while on active duty, Padilla and the medic kept saying that everything was ok, that I was going to make it, I asked Padilla and then the medic if they would tell Lil. They said no, in fact there was a betting pool on exactly what the outcome would be, when she found out. Cragun won.....

Tequila makes my clothes fall off........or so I've told her on multiple occasions.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by 12_Gauge_Chimp » Sat Aug 08, 2020 5:54 pm

One of the big lessons I get from reading Laager's posts is that pissing off a woman from the Philippines is never a good idea.

It's like they have a special talent for whacking the crap out of you.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Sat Aug 08, 2020 6:21 pm

12_Gauge_Chimp wrote:
Sat Aug 08, 2020 5:54 pm
One of the big lessons I get from reading Laager's posts is that pissing off a woman from the Philippines is never a good idea.

It's like they have a special talent for whacking the crap out of you.

I do believe that you are correct. I once asked my son if he was gay (he was 25 and never showed up at the house or mentioned having a girlfriend), he said no. I said, hey your cousins (female) have some cute friends.

The sheer look of horror on his face scared the crap out of me, I honestly thought there was some nut job running around the college with a gun or axe or something, so I was scanning when he said he didn't like Asian girls, I said what are we talking about Japanese, Korean, Chinese girls or what.

He said Filipinas.

I pointed out that they are actually Malaysian, not Asian, then pointed out that all of his Aunties, his Mother and Sister were Filipinas.

He said he was scared of them. So he married one of Jeff's twins instead. So a Anglo/Hispanic girl, who for some reason likes to glare at me. But at least she hasn't asked me if I want to die.....yet. Now I was always in awe of Korean women, even when they are talking normally it sounds like they are angry, then when they get angry, oh boy. Filipina's seem to be carrying on a nice conversation, then you blink and someone is getting a skillet or whatever is in their hands up side the head.

I came home one time and found our son sitting out front under a tree. I asked him what was going on, because he should have been doing his homework.

He just looked at me and said, I'm waiting for Mom to stop cooking.

Me: What the heck does that have to do with you sitting outside?

Him: Well I got a B in math (also known as an Asian "F") and I like to make sure Mom isn't sweeping, cooking, vacuuming, or doing anything with something heavy, just in case. I sat down with him, because there was no way I was going to poke the rabid grizzly bear.

Oh and it seems to be extremely virulent as well. Lil has it, it spreads to Sam, then spreads to our daughter.

As he pointed out, strangely I like to ride the tiger even knowing that I'm going to get mauled when I get off. Secretly I think she likes it when I push the envelope. But it is a fine line between a pop on the back of the head or a skillet to the head. We don't have any cast iron skillets.

Oddly enough we never really fight or argue. Like I said I like to push it, and I know exactly (okay only if I am paying attention)when to stop. But I fully understand her aggravation with some of the stuff I do, like chewing grunt candy and drinking beer.

One of my friends is married to one of Lil's first cousin. I warned him.......and being the evil pot stirring person I am, I like to push her buttons and watch him catch the flack....lol.

Let's just say they are very very passionate, and possessive. Never, ever, ever get caught giving another Filipina a ride on your motorcycle.......don't do it.....it won't be pretty. Nope not pretty at all, she scared the crap out of a bunch of 3 piece patched bikers, and our son asked if he could have my pocket watches.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

Laager
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Sat Aug 08, 2020 6:50 pm

In all honesty I should point out that I never dated, or had a girlfriend until Lil, I had been in the Army for 9 years, from the age of 16, we ended up getting married when I was 25 and she was 18. I also never realized that I was courting her, until she told me.

It has been a good 40 years, I don't think any other woman would have put up with me or allowed me to shall we say collect certain things to the point of obsession. :-)
Last edited by Laager on Sat Aug 08, 2020 8:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Sat Aug 08, 2020 8:31 pm

I earned two pops to the back of the head nearly simultaneously for this bit of fatherly advice when my son was heading to the desert for his first deployment.

I gave my son three knives when we met him at Norfolk Naval Station airfield.

One was a used Case Ka-Bar, the other was a Gerber MKII that I picked up in 1977, I only carried it a few times, but I eventually went back to my old Gerber MKII. The one I gave my son caught my eye because it had a gray finish on it. The last knife I gave him was a Swiss Army knife that Lil had given to me back in 1981 Christmas. I really liked it because it had the tweezers, toothpick and a couple of screwdrivers.

He said thank you and gave me a hug, then asked me why I gave him the Case and the Gerber because they were both "fighting knives", my immediate response was, use the Gerber for killing, the Case for everything else like eating and the Swiss Army knife will help you pick your teeth and get splinters out. Remember humans are filthy animals and you don't want to eat with a knife you used to kill someone with, that is just all kinds of nasty.

I was about to tell him that he could use the P-38 will open cans and clean your nails also can be used as a screwdriver, when Sam popped me in the back of the head from the left, which was immediately followed up by a pop from Lil coming in from the right.

I did manage to tell him we would talk when he returned. I got angry glares from Jeff's twins for some odd reason. I think they wanted to pop me too, but thankfully they were hovering around our son.

I've often wondered if I could have/should have asked the docs to throw a little bit of that fed.gov plating that they were using to put my forehead back together to the back of my head.

Guess I missed my chance.

I did get the chance to whisper in his ear that if he strapped a knife to his LBV that it should always be hilt up and never hilt down. Probably should have just written him a letter, but sometimes you just never know what will come out of my mouth when someone asks me a questions. Unfortunately it seems that it is always the straight up truth, even if it causes trouble.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by aikorob » Sun Aug 09, 2020 6:15 am

Laager wrote:
Sat Aug 08, 2020 6:21 pm
...................
Now I was always in awe of Korean women, even when they are talking normally it sounds like they are angry, then when they get angry, oh boy. ..................
Russian is the same---the Mrs. will be skypeing with her family, talking about the weather back home or something; and it sounds like a Jerry Springer episode is about to but out
I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they’ve always worked for me.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Sun Aug 09, 2020 12:25 pm

aikorob wrote:
Sun Aug 09, 2020 6:15 am
Laager wrote:
Sat Aug 08, 2020 6:21 pm
...................
Now I was always in awe of Korean women, even when they are talking normally it sounds like they are angry, then when they get angry, oh boy. ..................
Russian is the same---the Mrs. will be skypeing with her family, talking about the weather back home or something; and it sounds like a Jerry Springer episode is about to but out
I did not spend more than maybe 3 years in Germany, but spent close to ten years roaming around Asia. I still remember the first time I was grabbing some chow in the ville. Man the Ajumma was talking with what I took to be her daughter (she was my waitress, server as well as dishwasher, busboy, etc) I thought someone was fixing to pull some knives and go at it. I almost left, because the First Sergeant and Platoon Sergeant made it perfectly clear that should I get into trouble bad things would come my way. Still we were not supposed to eat off post, because of sanitation issues (bad water and they used "Night Soil" to fertilize their crops).

It took me a few months to pick up enough Korean to figure out they just talk loud and sound angry. Tagalog they don't usually sound mad I had to learn all the good words to figure out someone was fixing to get their butt handed to them. Of course Tony and I love to turn the TV when our wives are talking, them their volume goes up, so we up the TV volume and on it goes till Lil looks over and gives me the look.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

Laager
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Sun Aug 09, 2020 2:04 pm

This is the tale of Teenie Weenie.

Lil made Master Sergeant (the first time) and then had to attend the Air Force Senior NCO Academy located at Maxwell AFB–Gunter Annex in Alabama. It was just a 30 day school and I was floating around Fort Benning, Ga. So one of the few free weekends before she graduated, Sam flew over to Columbus Ga, and Lil drove her hopped up Honda Civic over to Columbus, Ga.

My brother Mike was also stationed at Fort Benning, and as Karma or the Goddess of Luck my Company Commander scheduled a morale day. Basically a mandatory fun day, wives and girlfriends were also encouraged to attend. So Lil and Sam thought it would be a good idea to show up, for some odd reason, after having several previous "incidents" at mandatory events like this.

Alcohol was allowed, and I (go ahead and laugh now) told boy Lil and Sam that at the first sign of alcohol stupidity we were leaving. For some odd reason I thought that they would listen to me. That very, very seldom ever happens with any female in my family. I often wonder why I even bother, since the females involved typically look a me with serious expressions, then look at each other and start laughing.

So as usual things went well, then the level of alcohol stupidity climbed ever higher till it reached the point were even NCO's were hitting the wall.

We had a PFC named Devlin who lost serious IQ points the more he drank, but I don't believe he had any IQ points to spare even sober.

I never asked and was never told a reason why this happened, other than it just did but Devlin had to hit the latrine and instead of using the male latrine he went into the female latrine.

Somehow while taking a dump, he either figured out he was in the female latrine or a female (spouse or girlfriend) discovered he was in a stall. So amid some loud screaming and yelling he comes running out of the female latrine with his underwear and pants in one hand and showing the world his junk.

As Lil and Sam were trying to go inside.

I was running towards the latrine when both Lil and Sam looked down at his crotch, looked him in the face, then looked at each other and said it's a teeny weenie and started laughing. Devlin replied with something along the lines of it was shrinkage due to the cold weather.

It was September in Georgia.

To which Sam said nope it's obvious that you have a teenie weenie, and its not due to shrinkage. Lil said it was smaller than a Vienna Sausage that had been bitten in half. Then Lil looked him in the eye and said don't worry, we're professionals. (I had to turn away, they both had really sincere looks on their faces). Sam must have saw me, choking up and said She works in Military Public Health and I am an ER Nurse. I forgot to add that they both had this serious/sincere look and had one hand on their chins and were tilting their heads to the left and right like they were examining some kind of worm or something.

Lil and Sam walked away laughing so hard tears were coming out of their eyes.

It probably didn't help that the other females started laughing and agreeing he had a teenie weenie.

I tried to get them to leave, but they said no, and then circulated around to stop and talk with the other females and I was not far behind them. I kept hearing teenie weenie, Vienna Sausage and it was a disappointment. Not a huge disappointment but a minor one. When they started discussing size of spouses and boyfriends. I went and found my brother Gabriel and said let's go to the gun store.

So we left.

Devlin never lived it down.......
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Mon Aug 10, 2020 12:32 pm

Another Lil, Sam and some of their female cousins:

Lil: Did you pack a swimsuit?

Me: No.

Sam: Why not?

Lil: I told you to pack a swimsuit.

Me: I have zero plans to swim in sewer water.

Sam: I thought we were going to a Resort, they have pools.

Me: Not interested.

Monique: They have plus size clothing at the Ukay-ukay store down by the Palengke.(Ukay-ukay is any store that has nothing but used clothing, it means to did-dig through the piles of used clothes. Palengke is a large market place, or just a market.).

Me: No.

Sam: Let's go!

So a quick 3 minute or traffic/people dodgging walk and there it is, the Ukay-ukay store. So I'm watching the traffic and people and four females are digging through the piles like their is money hidden at the bottom of the pile.

Monique: Hey I found one that should fit.

Sam & Lil: Is that a speedo?

Me: I'm going home.

Sabee: I don't think it will fit.

Sam: No, it is way to small.

Lil: He's an American, he needs board shorts.

Me: I'm out......as they start holding out their arms in a how big was the fish that got away. All of them laughing, and then the female store clerks started laughing as well.

Now every time I walk past the Ukay-ukay store they point at me and start make those hand gestures of just how big was the fish that got away. I would flip them all the bird but I did that once and ended up getting laughed at, and a bit anxious as well.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Thu Aug 13, 2020 2:49 pm

Famous questions:


Battalion Commander: Hey Sergeant!

Company Commander: (Who was with our Battalion Commander, Battalion Command Sergeant Major and Company First Sergeant): Hey Sergeant!

First Sergeant: Hey Sergeant Priest!! Get over here!!

Me: Hmmmm, I guess they were calling me, how was I to know there's probably six or seen Sergeants of one strip or other running around. Me, yes First Sergeant, so I trot over, throw a fast and dirty salute and assume the position.

BC: Sergeant Priest, are those your men over there?

Me: Sir, I don't know.

CSM: Priest, just turn around and look.

Me: Yes Sergeant Major! Hmmm, yes those men are in my platoon.

BC: Sergeant, why are there pants on backwards?

Me: Sir, I have no idea why, would you like me to go find out for you?

CC: Sir, just let it go, I'm sure you don't want to know.

CSM: Sir, I agree, let's just press on.

First Sergeant: Sergeant Priest, can I talk to you for a minute.

ME: Yes First Sergeant!

So we stepped a few feet away and he asked me to find out why they had their pants on backwards and for me to get them squared away. He mumble something about a shit sandwich or shit soup.

I was glad I brought something from home for lunch.

I ended up having to go tell both the First Sergeant and the Command Sergeant Major, why they had their pants on backwards.

I would be lying if I told you it didn't just make me shake my head and wander off.

Evidently five morons had tossed their underwear after they did the front to front, back to front, inside front to front, backside to the front. Toss and grab another pair.

Well they took it a bit farther and went with pants buttons to the front, then pants with buttons to the back.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

Laager
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Tue Sep 01, 2020 10:38 pm

A life lesson one of the things you possibly should not do, still can come back to haunt you decades later. We attend the local Catholic church with Dean's parents, unfortunately so does all of his sisters, their significant others as well as their children also attend. The mass is held in Spanish, never, never, ever stand up and yell something to the effect of For the love of the Gods, please shut the Hels up so I can listen to the mass!! I was unable to dodge the head slap coming my way from Lil, (I should have known it was coming, but I was on my last straw) then Dean's Mom slapped me as I sled past to exit the pew. Dean started laughing and he got popped as well, and was sent out as well, so away we went, after I asked for $10.00 so we could buy some ice cream at the Tulie Freeze. Shortly afterwards Jeff came outside and joined us at the Tulie Freeze he told us that Dean's Mom had popped the snot out of his sister (the one that was talking during mass. This happened way back in the mid 1980's, and for some odd reason it has never been forgotten. Oh and the Parish Priest passed it on to the new Priests as they cycled through the church. It probably did not help that some of the attendees started clapping. I was told that it was because I had to leave, then heard later on it was because Dean's sister finally shut her mouth.

It did not help that both my Mother and Father were at the same mass, but at least they were not sitting with us.



I should point out that this was not the first time and it will not be the last time either.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Johan » Sun Sep 06, 2020 3:34 am

Good to have you back Lager...

I've been missing your stories!!!
Firepower...
-Is One Bullet that Hits!

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by gamboolman » Sun Sep 06, 2020 4:44 pm

12_Gauge_Chimp wrote:
Mon Jul 27, 2020 11:43 pm
Speaking of getting mouthy with cops, I'm reminded of an incident that happened at the first and only rodeo I've ever been to. Which now that I think about it, was almost 30 years ago.

The short story is my dad got drunk, decided to get into an argument with my mother as we're leaving the rodeo arena and then take a swing at probably the tallest cop in Pecos, Texas. It didn't end well for Dad and he got planted on his ass by this cop.

The long story goes like this.

We go to the rodeo and enjoy it. Dad drinks as much as he can without passing out and as we're leaving the rodeo, decides to go after Mom because she didn't like him getting drunk and then want to drive the family home. Dad takes offense to that and goes off on a Budweiser fueled tirade. This attracts the attention of two Pecos PD officers, one of whom was probably about 7 foot tall or maybe a little more. Not sure why this is an important detail, but it's definitely one of the major things I remember from then. Anyway, the two cops come over and try to calm Dad down. Dad decides it's a good idea to get belligerent with the cops and then to take a swing at the tall cop. Yeah, that ended about as badly for him as you'd expect.

You remember the scene in "The Princess Bride" where Andre the Giant clubs the weird albino henchman over the head ? That's pretty much what happened to my dad. Dad takes a swing, gets clubbed on the head and gets planted on his ass by the giant cop.

A couple seconds later and he's handcuffed in the back of a cruiser. Dad goes to jail and Mom takes the family home to Coyanosa (which was about 30 miles away) and goes back to Pecos to bail Dad out the next morning. And that's the end of it. Dad never talked about it for the rest of his life and I think he may have blocked it out or he simply couldn't remember it because he was so drunk at the time.
12GC... great story - thanks. Really enjoyed it and all the more so because.....of the following....

ms gamboolgal and I currently renting a dump out in Monahans as I am I working out of a field office in Coyanosa, Tx way out in the Permian for megaoil corp.

We just repatriated back to Texas after living overseas in Africa for the last 17 years working offshore projects for megaoil there....

This is our sunset assignment as we finish out my career in the oilpatch. Planning to retire by years end after almost 43 year of working the oilfields all over the world...

Funny thing or ironic thing is that ms gamboolgal and I started our married life together our here in West Texas when we first married almost 39 year ago out here in the Permian.

It still looks the same.

West Texas is pretty in it's own way.

Anyway, your story really struck home as I know all the towns and little spots out here as you can only know them from working and spending time in the oilpatch....

gamboolman....

ETA I tried to attach a picture but for some reason - I can't post pics on ZS ?? oh well....
Lifetime Member(s): National Rifle Association, Gun Owners of America, Texas State Rifle Association

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by 12_Gauge_Chimp » Sun Sep 06, 2020 9:37 pm

gamboolman wrote:
Sun Sep 06, 2020 4:44 pm
12_Gauge_Chimp wrote:
Mon Jul 27, 2020 11:43 pm
Speaking of getting mouthy with cops, I'm reminded of an incident that happened at the first and only rodeo I've ever been to. Which now that I think about it, was almost 30 years ago.

The short story is my dad got drunk, decided to get into an argument with my mother as we're leaving the rodeo arena and then take a swing at probably the tallest cop in Pecos, Texas. It didn't end well for Dad and he got planted on his ass by this cop.

The long story goes like this.

We go to the rodeo and enjoy it. Dad drinks as much as he can without passing out and as we're leaving the rodeo, decides to go after Mom because she didn't like him getting drunk and then want to drive the family home. Dad takes offense to that and goes off on a Budweiser fueled tirade. This attracts the attention of two Pecos PD officers, one of whom was probably about 7 foot tall or maybe a little more. Not sure why this is an important detail, but it's definitely one of the major things I remember from then. Anyway, the two cops come over and try to calm Dad down. Dad decides it's a good idea to get belligerent with the cops and then to take a swing at the tall cop. Yeah, that ended about as badly for him as you'd expect.

You remember the scene in "The Princess Bride" where Andre the Giant clubs the weird albino henchman over the head ? That's pretty much what happened to my dad. Dad takes a swing, gets clubbed on the head and gets planted on his ass by the giant cop.

A couple seconds later and he's handcuffed in the back of a cruiser. Dad goes to jail and Mom takes the family home to Coyanosa (which was about 30 miles away) and goes back to Pecos to bail Dad out the next morning. And that's the end of it. Dad never talked about it for the rest of his life and I think he may have blocked it out or he simply couldn't remember it because he was so drunk at the time.
12GC... great story - thanks. Really enjoyed it and all the more so because.....of the following....

ms gamboolgal and I currently renting a dump out in Monahans as I am I working out of a field office in Coyanosa, Tx way out in the Permian for megaoil corp.

We just repatriated back to Texas after living overseas in Africa for the last 17 years working offshore projects for megaoil there....

This is our sunset assignment as we finish out my career in the oilpatch. Planning to retire by years end after almost 43 year of working the oilfields all over the world...

Funny thing or ironic thing is that ms gamboolgal and I started our married life together our here in West Texas when we first married almost 39 year ago out here in the Permian.

It still looks the same.

West Texas is pretty in it's own way.

Anyway, your story really struck home as I know all the towns and little spots out here as you can only know them from working and spending time in the oilpatch....

gamboolman....

ETA I tried to attach a picture but for some reason - I can't post pics on ZS ?? oh well....
If you're working out of Coyanosa, I'm pretty sure you've probably already stopped at the little corner store run by a guy named Gamboa. My dad used to be drinking buddies with him from 1982 to 1992 when my family moved away.

From '85 to '92, I lived in Coyanosa. Depending on when y'all were there, there's a good chance we may have crossed paths and not known it. My dad was the fire chief for a couple years and he also had his own auto repair shop a couple times there.

As for the pictures, try using a photo sharing site like Photobucket or Imgur and try again.

ETA: I just remembered a little bit of info on the Gamboa corner store. Some of the dusty stuff hanging on the support post near the register has been hanging there since before my family left in 1992. The last time I was in there, he still had a small display of fuzzy rabbit keychains hanging there and those things were there when I was five years old. So those things had been there for over 30 years.

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