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Driving truck in the military is a thankless job.
When the townsfolk see us coming they gather in a mob.
Some yell at us and some cheer.
Some look at us with awe and some with fear.
They used to use snipers and landmines to take you out.
Now they use IED'S and EFP's that will kill you with no doubt.
We bring the infantry ammo, bandages and food to eat.
Without us they would surely know defeat.
They look down on us because we drive while they kick, fight and maul.
But for them to do what they do they depend on us, those who drive the line haul.


Filed under: Fighting

domin8 says...

I love people who think that just because they have gone camping for a weekend, and lived without walls and electricity for that time, this makes them "survivalists". It's very much like those people who own a gun or take a self-defense class and think they can survive a fight. By "fight" I mean a real fight. What they don't understand is that all these things do is provide you with confidence, they don't actually help when the shit hits the fan and that's not their purpose. The real purpose is so that you can swagger and boast when there is nothing going on and your "skills" haven't been tested. No amount of survival training can get you ready for the moment when you are truly alone and lost and nobody knows where you are, where there is no rescue coming, no hope on the horizon and you will in fact die if you don't keep your wits and do the necessary. Like kill and eat your wife.

Not even basic training in the military can ready you for the moment when you get shot at with live ammunition by somebody who intends to hit you. Nothing in life but the actual thing can prepare you for that. All the familiarity you have with your weapon, all the physical fitness goes out the door in that moment and the world changes. The nature of your life in the world changes the first time your life is truly on the line, you change in that moment and everything in your life is different, looks different feels different, is handled differently after that point.

You cannot train for life, no course of preparation can ready you completely for a particular situation seeing as it has never happened exactly in that way before, the closest thing you can find is the man who has faced something like it and survived. Every young soldier facing his first battle is, in effect, unprepared. The training is merely to get them to the point where they will show up for the fight. The fight itself can only be learned in the school of bitter experience.

Left in the real wilderness with only your weekend camping skills to survive on, maybe a few barely-remembered episodes of Man vs Wild, you will die. You will die a slow, painful death all alone in the dark because you drank the wrong water, or because the only thing you could find to eat was a bad idea, or because you tripped and fell and hit your head. The only prepared man is the man who has faced it before and come out alive, the only soldier is the man who has faced death at the hands of the enemy and adjusted emotionally and mentally to its nearness.

Filed under: fighting

Kas says...

Developed by Chuck Norris for stunt fighting in action movies. These great looking western style jeans have a unique hidden gusset which allows greater movement without binding or ripping.

Filed under: fighting

JACK says...

Maybe it looks like a simple mathematical fact but it’s much more complicated than that.
Take for a second the moments when you realize that more of nothing is still nothing and you’re left feeling empty, well not completely empty because there is a great amount of sarcastic laughter that arises to keep you out of trouble. Or maybe the laughter is just a coping mechanism some of us have developed to ensure that we don’t let the stupidity flu infect our very uncomplicated way of thinking and dealing with what life doles us out. Either way sometimes that monkey on your back seems to be getting fatter, uglier, smelly and he appears to also have a tenderizing hammer he keeps mashing you in the head giving you what we’ll call a migraine. The truth is this just minor inconvenience think of it as stepping in shit in your shoe, sure it sucks but as soon as you can either hose it off or throw the shoes into the rubbish bin everything is much, much better. Today the monkey is brattier than usual in fact you wonder why this red-headed stepchild of a beast is even breathing the same air as you and you wonder where it’s parents are and why they don’t just show up beat it and lock it away; but you’re better than this after all you just need to remember that you’re the zookeeper and that’s why you stepped in shit to begin with so cheer up your new shoes are on the way (maybe they are on backorder but they are on their way, I promise). As for the math well yeah it just adds up to a whole lot of crap that I don’t want to explain outside of the zookeeper story but I hope you enjoyed it and I hope you can apply it to your day somehow. Here’s the simplified version, Don’t take any of the burdens in your day too seriously at the end we’re all dead so just enjoy the sun, the moon and the rain that you have today because one day it might all go away. Smile at least you have 10% of nothing, right? Wait should i be happy about this? No, what the fuck are you talking about this is stupid but hey at least the dog in the picture looks better than the monkey I described. trust me the dog is better people than most of the people you know, yeah I'm sorry your friends suck but the dog does not.

Filed under: fighting

slave2son says...

Are you into UFC?  My friend is completely addicted, and he has been able to get me moderately interested over the years.  I'm no where near as into it as he is.  He's actually a pretty good wrestler because he studied all of the technical moves, and he's really strong for his size.  But me, I'm usually the guy on the sidelines.  I enjoy watching the fights with friends, but I'm don't know everything about the sport.  My buddy, on the other hand, reads forums every day and can tell you the best place to buy all the MMA gear you need to protect yourself.  So, if you are ever in a fight, you now know where to go.  

To me, it's funny how fighting is such an essential part of the human race.  It's been around for years and has been cheered on as a spectator sport since the gladiators.  We've had Renaissance weapons of old, and now we have our modern warriors in the Octagon.  It's strange.  There are soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan, but we seem to put much more attention on Kimbo Slice.  Crazy. 

Filed under: fighting

mspixieears says...

Again, I was going to fail some English exam in high school. I'm supposed to have read the same book I haven't finished reading in all the dreams I've had recently. I think it's a non-fiction book, and I've missed a lot of class in the second semester.

I try to call this horrible person I was semi-seeing last year. He changes his number without telling me. I call the old number and get a very angry woman instead. She is mad at this guy too - he used to live as her housemate and has left her suddenly without giving appropriate funds.

I am staying in this beautiful mansion. My family are there - and because the house is so large, I don't get to see them much. My mother has booked some sort of compulsory family holiday while I'm supposed to have my English exam which I know I shall fail. It takes me quite some wrangling to get out of going.

I find out that my brother is cheating on his wife - he's found a girlfriend. I'm furious. I voice these misgivings with my mother who says that all men are supposed to stray after a while. I say, what, even though his wife is expecting a child? Mum says especially so. I am disgusted with my brother and decide I don't ever want to see him again. I say that I will be out of this mansion as soon as my exams are over.

My brother decides I am too degenerate to sleep on this special mattress he paid money for. The mattress is made of foam and is breaking up. I accuse my brother of being a fucking hipster and say fine, I don't want anything to do with you.

* * *
I'm still in this weird mansion and apparently I have a new boyfriend, a friend I met on Twitter. This apparently helps me decide I want to be with my current real-life partner, who I keep trying to reach via the phone but can't get hold of him.

* * *

I'm trapped in some weird fairytale setting. and I think I'm an old woman. They are conspiring to kill me. What they don't know is that because I have been bitten several times by this particular snake, I'm now immune to its venom. It ends up killing them instead - that being a man dressed in a beautiful flamenco red dress and a young woman.

Then suddenly I'm in Singapore with a bunch of people. One of them stops because she wants to buy Shu Uemura. A man comes up to me to talk to me. He looks like Marc Jacobs. We get shuffled off and I say goodbye to him, marvelling over the Shu Uemura cleansing oil packaging.

A cute Asian girl gives me an eyeshadow palette which comes with cute soft toys.

* * *
Back to the old woman. I turn these quasi Greek monsters into books. The library gets mad because I don't return them to the library. I'm confused, as I tell them, they weren't books before. I meet another girl who tells me I remind her of a heroine in the Chaos Revelations series. I tell her I will look them up in the library. I do so and am confronted by my old schoolfriend Andrea. She wants to go to another section of the library. I shrug and say fine, do what you want. I find the Chaos Revelations series and there are more than four volumes and they appear to be graphic novel adaptations of Shakespeare's plays.

I go to another section of library and begin composing a tune on my flute, and writing variations upon the tune.

I introduce T to some people from EMS. Em comes up to me and tells me mean Luke will stay overseas forever and that someone else, either Rob or Felix are coming home early. She thinks I'll be sad and then I say, I'm glad Luke is gone forever, and wager a lot of other people are too.

Filed under: fighting

Do you know someone fighting cancer? Tweet me 4 details on how R healthy chocolate fundraisers can help pay their bills.

Filed under: fighting

JACK says...

It became rather obvious that idiot box was telling lies again.
The funny thing about America is that we get excited like puppies ready to take a shit the moment we think there’s actually a kid in peril; we are stuck in front of the glow of our plasma TV’s thinking “poor little son-of-a-bitch”. But then we find out there was more hot air behind the drama than the news lead us to believe. I have a serious problem with the fact that I am on a first name basis with people from television that I don’t care about but I am not on a first name basis with my dentist or the guy behind the bullet proof glass that sells me gas, lottery tickets, and snacks. I find this odd and more than disturbing, it’s as if the small town mentality has left reality and relocated to a place where everything is scripted. This place is television, this place is magical and filled with lies, and this place was born, produced and syndicated in America. And now it’s our burden to carry and worship and love and loathe and till death do us part be a part of our lives. Fuck you John and Kate, and Tom and Katie, and Oprah, Jay, Dr. Phil, the Jesus channel, octo mom, infomercials, Brad and Angie, and all of the morning talk shows that teach us nothing but how to lose more of ourselves.

Filed under: fighting

Do you know someone fighting cancer? Tweet me 4 details on how R healthy chocolate fundraisers can help pay their bills.

Filed under: fighting

JACK says...

It was about 4a.m. and the weekend was in full effect by all accounts. A pair of tattooed arms was shoving me away from someone with an angry European accent. Pleasantries were being exchanged and adjectives poured out of me like an anxious typewriter, my heart wasn’t beating but I could feel the adrenaline making my arms numb. As the cultural exchange of opinions continued I noticed that the man with the angry European accent was misrepresenting the brand he was wearing head to toe. In the dim light of the bar I could see the silver stitches of the Nike logo on his running shoes, his shirt and baseball cap both were also blessed with the iconic Nike swoosh.
My mind raced through hours of Nike TV and print ads reminding me to “Just do it”. After a few more exchanges of beer battered words it dawned on me that this man didn’t really believe in the brand he was wearing like a badge. I counted three threats of his impending attack on my face and to each I replied “Just do it” with a wide grin; having proven my point that people don’t always buy into their brand I proceeded to “ just do it” myself. And that’s how my wrist got hurt this weekend all because of some field research on brand messaging and its influence.
So this week’s lesson is to support, stand behind and believe in the flags you wave otherwise some advertising goofball might punch you in the nose when he realizes you know nothing about your brand. This can be applied to clients that think they know what their brand is saying when in reality the brand is saying or speaking to someone completely different; and it’s much easier to realize this before a pair of muscular tattooed arms is bear hugging you to ensure that your international meeting doesn’t get any bloodier. Overall it was a good weekend and I think we all learned a valuable lesson about brands and their influence on people, a special thanks to Nike for telling me to “Just punch a guy in the nose”.
Have a happy week in the brutal world of advertising and marketing folks otherwise go home and start training this isn’t an easy job, sometimes it gets a little dirty and bloody even if you’re wearing a nice shirt.
and remember the moral of the story is : Don’t just buy a brand; believe in it and if you work on a brand you should try to believe in it too even if you know the lies.

Filed under: fighting