Greetings Me Droogs N Droogettes!
Names have been changed to protect, well, everyone mentioned.
Except Me.
‘Cos fuck that guy.
For real.
But seriously. Or not so. Either way the other day when I poasted way early a few ago, I still had the ‘writers urge’ to keep hammering away. Y’all saw my poast that I threw up on Reddit about Me Versus The TSA. If you missed it the link is to Fucking With The TSA Sometimes a good memory will hit, and I just have to write about it. In this case it’s a good thing.
As I’m still wiped out. My must ‘umble Thanks to all who contributed to the “Save the Penis!” Fund. He’s been doing well, and he keeps trying to take off the Cone of Shame. Each time he manages to, it’s clear that his meds have worn off, so I usually hit him up with the good stuff which keeps him mellow.
Only issue we’ve had is because he’s got a catheter, and the new catch bag is slightly different from the now full and disposed of original, it leaks where the spike point and drip chamber go into the bag. I got a old towel that’s catching the wee-wee
HOWEVER
Bob-the-Asshole-Cat keeps trying to butt in to the Master Bedroom where Penis is in convalescent lockdown. A few ago he must have slipped in ‘cos the second I left the room, he darted up to the now vacant cage and tried to ‘assert dominence’ by pissing/shitting in and on the towel.
Needless to say he didn’t.
Going to have to redouble my efforts to keep Penis safe and sound, and his ‘stuff’ unmarked by the apparently now-territorial Bob. Which is new… he wasn’t at all like that before, so no idea what dynamic changed. It probably, (according to the Doc) is one of the stressors that led to this particular shitshot… Male cats when stressed get crystallization like Penis had.
So, Bob’s gonna be getting schooled in the BCE way of “Playing Nice” I have a rather effective method of getting two recalcitrant cats to make the peace and become buddies. More on that some other time.
So since the Intahwebz have been nothing but “Death To “X” (insert your favorite enemy-of-the-moment HERE) as to the point of just being a major bummer man. Harshin’ Ye Olde Mellow and I got fucking surgery for Eyeball #2 at 0600, so I’ll be out tomorrow and possibly Tuesday? Not sure as THIS time we know what to expect from the various ‘things’ they’re going to do, and hopefully I avoid them.
So instead, I got what I feel is a funny story from my Army Days. As I said, names have been changed, and let me know what you think. The reddit-retards gave me a HUGE number of upvoats, so at least I know some people dug it.
Now, Let me tell you of the days of high adventure!
Be Me. 23 year old 11H SP4 Mafia Member, newly assigned to the 101st.
Show up at the Repo-Depot at Campbell. In the early 90’s the barracks were –old– WW2/Korean style wooden barracks.
![](https://bigcountryexpat.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/10/barracks.jpg)
BIG open bays like “Full Metal Jacket” old. That pic is from Fort Lost-in-the-Woods, but it’s –exactly– the same as what I reported to in 94 at Campbell. (BTW, the one above is now a no-shit museum) The bay(s) were arranged that Females on the second floor, dudes on the ground floor. The bays were the standard bays:
![](https://bigcountryexpat.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/10/bay-1024x678.jpg)
Cramped, foul… the whole usual bullshit substandard billet for lower-to-mid Enlisted. So, I went and did my special powers to get me the option via the usual ‘graft and corruption’ of paying off the right people (two cases of good beer to the person in question) so I could stay at an off-base hotel.
That and being promotable, and having been around a while, I wasn’t a ‘risk’ as the NCOIC stated to me… Just as long as I made formations and appointments (I had my own POV, car to you civvies) so it wasn’t going to be an issue. Had no issue paying for the privacy and comfort. Met Sara, a PFC who was –still- at replacement due to a SA Issue (almost 2 months at that point.) Never did find out if it was legit, (probably was as it wasn’t the last time some fuckstick fucked w/her unfortunately, hawt-Army-chick problems as you can imagine…) that being said, back then? I was doing my “White Knight” thing and she and I got to be very close.
Like FWB close.
She loved spending the night(s) away from the Barracks (who wouldn’t… ancient assed fucking wood structures with shitty AC, never mind the usual bullshit of CQ/Fireguard and whatnot). I used my Master SP4 Mafia Dark Jedi Skills to get her the ability to leave w/me (moar beer) as her ‘escort’ as the Repo-Depot First Shirt called me… personally, I think he was utterly terrified of her as it was the Repo-Depot Supply Sgt. who supposedly did the SA, and Top knew HIS balls were probably on the block if proven to be true… anyways… Many a great night in the hotel… sorry, I digress…
About a week and a half after -I- got there to the RD, I got orders to 3RD BDE, the 187th (insert obligatory RAKKASAN!!!! here… for those of you who know will get it.)
Anywho. I ended up in Delta Company, 2nd Batt (11H TOWs/.50s/MK-19s… ahh the Days of Wine and Roses… How I do miss it.) Delta at the time along with the rest of the BDE had gone to JRTC. Everyone left was on Rear-D.
Fuuuuuuuck.
Commence suckfest.
Yep… doing ALL the shit the entire company would have normally done, except with about a platoon and a half of the lame/lazy/short timers. Motor Pool detail being prevalent. One major bonus however of being in the “rear with the gear” was no-one knew which Platoon I was going to be assigned to, and ergo, which room/room dawg I’d be assigned to. The Rear D NCOIC made the choice to ‘temporarily’ assign me a senior NCO room in the Barracks. E-6 level room… I (temporarily) had a PRIVATE SHOWER man!!!! (Sara LOVED that). I was told I’d be reassigned depending on what Platoon I was in when the rest of the Company got back. (Go Third Herd!!!)
Mind you I was still meeting up with PFC Sara on the regular. She’d finally gotten assigned to her unit (801st Main Support Batt) So, to get to the point, one fine Tuesday afternoon, I went and picked her up from “work” and she’d wrangled a 90 minute lunch break. Me being one of 3 E-4Ps on Rear D for the Company, I was pretty much free to fuck off most of the day. My immediate Supervisor was a Staff Sgt named Mitch, who’s wife was MAD Preggers and about to pop, so he got a ‘buy’ on JRTC… really nice guy…
So I go get my extremely female PFC and bring her back to my (for the times) Luxurious NCO Boudoir. We both were very into the whole physical aspect of the friendship… so at this point, I asked if we could do a ‘nooner’? She was down with it, however, I wanted to satisfy a minor kink. I wanted her to keep the majority of her uniform on…
What can I say? A chick in uniform, especially a ‘fast mover’ like her?
O.M.F.G yes please.
Now, one thing about this Barracks Room. The door lock had two parts. The normal ‘lock’ it with the key’ lock (door knob) and a deadbolt. The deadbolt however, was a really weird older model, that instead of locking to the right, it locked to the left. (reversed from the normal, meaning the lever goes right to lock it, left to unlock…) So, in this case, the lock-lock on the door knob was broken (“we have a work order in for it”… typical AF for back then) and the deadbolt? Well PFC Sara, unbeknownst to me (but now knownst to you AND me) and without understanding it, unlocked the deadbolt. I found out AFTER the approaching clusterfuck that she’d -thought- she’d LOCKED it, when in fact, she unlocked it. That or she had her own unsatified voyuer-kink
Here I am, in all my glory… HAWT HAWT HAWT PFC Sara getting freeky-deeky with moi on the bunk. Life at that moment is OH SO Fucking good… I got her ‘over’ so to speak, her BDU jacket open, t-shirt up, dog tags hanging and clinking, and pants/panties around her ankles… a DotMil fantasy come true… when ‘all of a sudden’
**Sonofabitch!!!**
There’s a knock at the door… I paused mid-thrust.
Me: “Who the fuck is there!?!”
The (now unlocked door) opens, and SSGT Mitch walks in without even waiting and starts off with
SSGT Mitch: “Hey BigCountryExpat, hate to interrupt your lunch but I need you to go down to……”
< tapers off, looking at me with growing horror on his face >
Me: “Oh SHIT!!!! Duuuude!!!! What the fuck!!!! Gimme a second!!!!”
SSGT Mitch: < races back out the door, positively gabbling, apologizing profusely, slams door HARD >
Yells thru the now-Closed Door “Come down to the Motor Pool when you’re done!” < queue receding running footsteps down the hall >
PFC Sara: “giggles”
Me: <dawning realization > “OH FUCK!!! Get fucking dressed Right Fucking Now… get your shit together, we got to get to the Motor Pool RIGHT. FUCKING. NOW!!!“
PFC Sara: < pouty > “Why? What’s the big deal? You haven’t finished yet!” < coyly sideways look >
(side note… My famous luck strikes again Aye?)
Me: “Trust me, Infantry gossip like NOBODIES Biddness!!! He doesn’t realize you’re chick!!!! He thinks I was bangin’ a dude in the ass!!!!“
PFC Sara: (dawning realization on face) Positively EXPLODES: < Queue Paroxysms of HILARIOUS LAUGHTER!!!! > “WHAT!?!” <genuine bafflement >
Me: < Dressing furiously > “Seriously… he couldn’t tell… you’re wearing your hat, your hair (she had GREAT long brown locks BTW) is under the hat, and he couldn’t see your tits ‘cos your ass was in the air while I was doggin’ you!!!! This’s critical!!! I’m the “new guy who’s gonna be called a fag” if you don’t move out!”
Granted, PFC Sara was a -bit- put out… “I’m going to be sooooo embarrassed!!! They’re going to think I’m a slut!!!”
I was like “IDGAF about that, this’s deadly important in the Infantry!!!” B/C she was cool as all get the fuck out, she went with me. (otherwise I probably would have knocked her out and dragged her with me at that point).
Sure as Christ made lil Apples, we get to the motor pool in like 8 minutes after the ‘cockblock moment’ as I call it, and ALL of the Rear D are gathered around SSGT Mitch… who’s waving his hands around OBVIOUSLY spinning the tale of ‘walking in on the new guy who’s queer!!!’ They (the gathered troops) see me AND PFC Sara (who TBH at a distance, in the old lettuce suit BDU (woodland, not flattering at all) walking in. I reached out and took her hand, and walked up.
Like a fucking BOSS mind you…
No shame in my game THAT day fo’ rizzle.
The sigh of relief from everyone was probably audible in Arkansas.
Outside of PFC Sara turning about nineteen different shades of red, it all ended well, and honestly, I got MAD cool points for copping a ‘nooner’ during lunch. Sara and I are still hardcore frens, and I always thought of her as one who might have gotten away… Of course she’d kill me if she reads this, but fuck it, it is funny!!!
All in all, it garnered me quite the rep as a man-whore in the Battalion…
Jes’ Sayin’…
And as I said before, yes, I am still in contact with PFC Sara, who when she reads this is gonna probably want to come down here to purely kick my ass.
Again
(Wouldn’t be the first time!)
Hope You Enjoyed!
Big Country
![](https://bigcountryexpat.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/10/d96f0f9c7e20e79323fd85d53fa05c99.jpg)