...and Back in Baghdad...

OK friends and neighbors. Back again. This time with a legit update on casual observations I’ve made here in the Land of The Baghdad Café. Ye Olde Intrepid Reporter had a tough one, what with his Dad getting a bad case of the “deads” and all, but seeing that I’ll be home shortly to celebrate his life and see my wife and kids, that about evens the score. So, as the late great Paul Harvey used to say…”Stand by…for NEWS!”

One observation in the ‘supposed’ drawdown is the uptick in Iraqi military activity. I’m not giving any secrets away because even the bloody insurgents can tell the difference between the US troops (grey-digital ACU uniforms) and the Iraqis, (desert tan old style US camo) Seems that the Iraqis, from my observations, are getting more ‘hot n heavy.’ A few weeks ago I was on Route Irish, formerly known by Newsweek magazine as “The SINGLE most DANGEROUS section of highway in the known Universe” (quick aside: my how things have changed!) and as I rolled down the pockmarked pavement, what should I see but a convoy of Iraqis.

Not just any convoy tho. I counted one T-72 Echo model, one T-55 with IR spotlight and night vision variant, two BMP-1 export models, a World War II vintage armored car and an MT-LB Command Track all being moved on what appeared to be the old US Army prime mover flatbeds. Now at first, I thought that these were more ‘trophy’ vehicles. To explain, the Army LOVES taking and shipping the old armor that the Iraqis either abandoned or lost to us and sending it back home so they can park it in front of the Unit’s buildings as a “See what we captured?” For the most part it’s bullshit, heaping , steaming, type: many each. The unit “captured” in that they went down to a muddy field where the tank/apc/whatever has been sitting since the Haj abandoned it in 2003, dug it out of the mud, slapped a fresh coat of paint on it, and then bring it back home to the States to display in some byzantine display of “pseudo-military prowess on the battlefield” Anyways, I digress per usual:

The stuff I was seeing was completely refurbished. As in if not factory new, at least depot-level refinished. Now to those of you just arriving, you may ask “Hey Big Country, how do you know what those tracks were?” Well, for the pencil waving editor, I’ll provide the following. My first MOS (military occupational specialty a.k.a. as my job) was 11 H or Hotel, which was Heavy Anti-Armor Weapons Infantryman. Means I was a tank-killer, and that tank identification was and still is my bread and butter. How many guys do you know who were given a complete set of “Janes All The Worlds Armor” identification books for Christmas? And I don’t mean the little paperback jobbies… but the gorilla two-grand- a-book ID books that even some libraries have trouble getting. Mom and Dad thought they were the PERFECT gift for their lunatic TOW-Gunning son of a gun. Ergo, I’m a fucking expert who still as a hobby lives and breathes Armor ID.

Now, the interesting part on this was as the same day I saw the tanks being moved downtown, I also saw something that reflexively froze my blood in my veins. I was on my way out to Sather when I heard a helicopter overhead. Now, being here for 5 years, I can tell you much like any Vietnam vet can tell you if it’s a Huey overhead or not. I can pretty much distinguish between a Blackhawk, Kiowa, Apache, and a Chinook. On occasion, there are the odd Hueys, being Bell 206’s that the Iraq Government uses, but this time it was different… A deep resonant bass sound… Loud… make that LOUD!!! And thevibration emanating ran from my chest to my inner ear it was so deep and loud. I looked up.. and what do my eyes behold:

A Hind. A motherfucking Hind… Mi-24D model… The reason we developed the AH-64. A pure-d BADASS mo’fo of a Warbird. The Bane of the Afghan Mujadaheen (back when we wuz still buddies) up until we gave them the Stinger MANPAD (typical jihadist… no sense of loyalty or gratitude) and when I was in the Army, the feared and preferred weapon of out adversary, which makes a distinct sound when flying at you… Flying in Iraqi colors no less!

Seems between the Heavy Armor and the Hinds I’ve seen cruising around lately, one of two things are happening. One is that the Iraqis are beefing up and not going to take any more shit from anyone or Two, well…

Hell… I got nothing. The amount of firepower that I’ve seen the Iraqis fielding lately is immense, and I HOPE bodes well for our guys starting to ramp down. Granted the Maliki Government doesn’t want us to go, seeing that there are ten thousand political parties/loyalties here and this government is pretty weak in the hinterlands, but the Iraqi Military might be getting into a position to take over. I mean with the firepower they are accruing, it sure is as hell possible we might see a “Saddam the 2nd” except under the guidance of the “Kinder Gentler” United States and whatever puppet is currently in charge there. It could happen. The majority of Middle Eastern States LIKE having a strongman in charge… ye olde ‘velvet covered iron fist’ ideal. I guess we’ll just have to watch and see, and see what cooks over the next few months.

Stay tuned as it’s bound to be interesting.

R&R

Whooo. OK How many days since my last posting? When was the last time I had internet? How about fucking hot water? Geez... So much has happened, and yet not. Well, lets get to the story as it stands now... Your Intrepid Reporter is in Baghdad, Land that Sanitation and Good Manners Forgot, and will be for the next 24 hours. Then, I sky.

YES!!!

R&R after 5 or so months... 5 and some change actually. Time to kick the dirt offa da bootz and roll to the House, Cold Beer, kids and a warm and (hopefully) Willing Wife... truthfully, she'd damned well better be willing after this long assed enforced celibacy... anyways... Well, lets see...

When we last left the IR, he'd been forced to work long hard assed hours. Nothings changed there. No time off, no internet and no fun. The only relief has been the occasional Extreme Sport of "Drinking Outside The Wire" at the Iraqi bars. A sport not for the faint of heart, nor even the fucking sane. Despite the Militarys enforcement of "No Booze No Fun No Sex" General Order Number One, which happens to end with a codicile written in 'weasel speak' (meaning lawyerese) that "And if we haven't thought of it and written it here, it too, is strictly prohibited." Well, despite that I say "Fuck it." and go for it. I mean what sort of Contractor would I be if I didn't bend the rules now and again? I mean hell... My wife sez there is no 'Black and White' with me, just 'Shades of Grey' as the Dead song goes. I mean as I say "No harm, no foul" then hey? Sometimes you just gotta say "What the fuck?"

Now before I quote Tom Cruise again, I'll pause to beat my head with a fucking mallet, and then I'll continue... So as I was saying, the internet has been totally dicked up lately. Only recently did the genuises I work with figure out how to get it running so I'm good. Fat lot of good of course, seeings that I'm leaving tomorrow, but given the option of staying? OH HELL NO! So yeah, I finally finished the Compound that I was tasked into costructing. Head Hajji Overseer again. Unlike the last job I did back in '04, this one was pretty smooth, albeit that we got ripped of by the Haj on our generators... they said they were new, but two days into the running of them, the fucking muffler broke off of one of them, and the other one runs like a fucking poorly tuned Asthmatic Yugo. Have you ever stood close to a 30K generator running flat out? Think LOUD. Like holy shit loud. Now, imagine it if you can, being even louder. The muffler keeps it so that you can think... without it? the damned thing sounds like a Kenworth running at 110 miles an hour flat out. LOUD LOUD. As in "shakes the fucking walls down" loud. So I get the blame.

Oh yeah... did I mention I have a new boss? I'll refrain from going off... lets just say he looks about a Large Long in an Orange Jumpsuit and I was pricing Machetes in the PX yesterday. Dude had better remember that this IS Iraq and accidents and "The Dirty Haj" do happen.

So yeah, I have to show one pic of the construction :

This is when they started to lay the T-Walls which are supposed to protect us from mortar and rocket attacks, and yes, the Hajji supervising is in fact digging deep in his asscrack. Yeah... "IMPORTANT Note to self... do NOT shake hands with the foreman." The dude kept working that hand there to the point it was obvious that he had 'something' wrong and man, there is just waaaaaaaay too much info just in the fact that I didn't INTEND on that picture being taken. I was snapping away and I happened to catch him at it, but considering the frequency that he was doing it, I'm surprised that ALL the pics of him didn't show "Mister Itchy Ass Haj" doing it in all of them.... Ugh... what a country...

So on other news... One serious note... According to GlobalSecurity dot Org, there have been 38 US Service men and women Killed/Named KIA since the Obamamessiah took office. How many of them have you heard of?

Ahhh thats right... you won't or haven't. The Mass Corporatemedia, also as I call them, the Demomediamania Mob, made up of the likes of the Communist News Network and such have downplayed the loss of our brave warriors. How many times did the media slavishly and completely run every single casualty when Bush was in office or when McCain was running for office, being dragged into the spotlight and laid bloody at the feet of the Republicans? How many families were devastated by these fucking vultures and scum-monkeys by being asked "How does it feel that your son/daughter died for George Bush's war?" Hmmn... like I said... it's time to target the media... physically. If you're a vet, the next time a newman comes over to you, just knock him the fuck out, or, if you're disabled, hose 'em down with Bear Mace. It's the least they deserve. I mean how many times did those Goddamned Vultures DEMAND the right to film at Delaware when the coffins were being offloaded? A couple of hundred that I could see. Now? Not so much. Fuckers. "Freedom of the press?" Howabout the freedom to kick your scummy fucking ass when I get the chance?

I'm truly disgusted. 38 of our best, killed, but no one fucking mention or honor... the Media Clowns used to cover every single death... granted they had an agenda, and I disagree the way they did it, but at least they still allowed America to see that our best had fallen, and allowed the rest of America to pause and maybe reflect, or even say -GASP- a prayer for them and/or for thier families...

Now these fucking douchebag fucking worms hide and bury the news, so as to not 'stain' their "Chosen One." I swear to God in Heaven that when I hit the States tomorrow, if theres a media crew there filming or asking or interviewing troops, I'll have a tough time restraining myself.

Anyways... gotta stop thinging about it... it gets the blood boiling and I got my Irish up so to speak. I'll leave it at this: I'm final;ly going to be home for a while, and am looking hard forward to it, so I may update when I'm there, but that remains to be seen... I'm just thrilled to be going home to my family, cold beer, hot, clean water and flushable toilets. No more blue water poo boxes for 3 weeks!!! Until then, I'll holler at you later!

It's been how long?

Wow.... Time flies when you're working your ass off, day after day, slaving for "The Man" and not having any down time.... Yep the IR here with not so much for the scene in The Baghdad Cafe, formerly known as the Saddam-A-Go-Go. The only thing I've been doing is 'ye olde nose to ye olde grindstone.'

Seems that "The Big Boss Man" came to town... and I'm burned out for it... Yeah... The Corporate Head honcho showed up and I'm better for it in many respects, especially since he's carried the Corporate Checkcard and Pimp-Roll-O-Cash to smooth out the purchases and such that I've been screaming about over the past few months, it's helped me with my job SIGNIFICANTLY.

My biggest issue though is there's hardly any 'skate time' Not when the guy who's in the "make or break" side of your career is sitting right behind you for 12 hours out of the day. Considering the poor bastard is working AS much if not more, then I'd be amazed... He sits and works with us all day long and then he still has to go home and be joined to the computer, as the States are like 8 hours behind us.... meaning when the Corporate Pinheads schedule a 4pm Eastern Standard telconference, we have to be up at like midnight here... AFTER having already done a fucking 12 hour shift... But it's the reason I haven't had too much commentary to throw out there as of late. I've been flat the fuck out busy busy and to the point I haven't updated anything, to include facebook, myspace or any of the other bits of entertainment you loyal readers follow me and the Not So Much Lately Adventures of the Intrepid Reporter.

But, as of late, Baghdad is quiet. The changeover between 4th Infantry Division and 1st Cavalry Division is pretty much over with now. Yep... leave it to me to be 'back with the Cav' again like I was in 04-05. I just can't seem to escape 1st Cavalry Division... it's like a reoccurring cold, or actually, considering how the Cav annoys me, I'd say it's more like having a case of herpes... flares up and annoys the shit out of you at the most inopportune times... I mean it was being in the Cav that got me hurt many many moons ago, and it was the Cav that screwed me over every time I turned around during my Med Board, and then, in 04, it was the Cav that abandoned me, Lil Country, and the rest of the CACI folks when they 'pulled the line of battle' back during a particularlly hairy week, leaving us as "Fresh Meat" for the Dirty Haj if they felt so inclinded. The Cav... as I say of the patch

"The Horse Never Ridden, The Line Never Crossed, and the Color Right Down The Back."

That about sums up 1st Cav... and I've EARNED the right to bag on that unit... Having spent 4 years and all the shit I went through, I have DEFINATELY BT-DT-GTTS.

But yeah. Baghdad is quiet. Mosul now? Not so much. Reports filtering down through various 'shall remain unnamed' sources have filled the IR up with all sorts of tales... Seems that the Surge that the Media loved to lambast but now keep their mouths shut about worked in that the US Army, combined with a newly re-energized Iraqi Military, succeeded in driving the majority of terrorists and babyrapers right out of the Capital. They headed North into Kurd Kountry... Sunni Central from my understanding of it. We've taken some casualties (another thing you WON'T hear from the media as trumpeting casualties lays it on the Obamamessiahs Lap rather than George "I'm Outta Here" Bush.) but we're still winning.

Which brings me to my point of an earlier post. I didn't get ANY responses about beating on the reporters or such ideas. I mean "Beat The Press" is such a cute bit of wordplay, and the idea of taking some of these neo-socialist fucking hacks and feeling the impact of my "mighty right fist o' death" on one of their smarmy, mewling, puking, plastic-enhanced grills, and having the satisfaction of watching caps and teeth fly like so many chicklets from a goalies' mouth.... Damn... I need a cigarette... That would be OH so nice. To see Dan Rather get stomped (even though just pushing him over or hiding his dentures would be good enough) while singing the R.E.M song for all of his inordinate Anti-American Tirades... to see all of them Tarred and Feathered properly. Properly in that the tar is heated to such a degree that said victim(s) would usually die from the 2nd and 3rd degree burns even before all the feathers could be properly applied.

I'm now OFFICIALLY on the "Anti-Press Bandwagon." The country is broke, broken and we've got nothing to show for it than a neophyte president who's wholly incapable of stringing a coherant thought into a concerted sentence without the use of a teleprompter who was elected more by a festering neo-liberal bunch of malcontents who, rather than actually do their jobs, were content to be Democratic Cheerleaders and get a man elected who, in reality, scares the ever loving shit out of me. Me? I'd prefer if The Hillaroid had gotten in... better the "Socialist Demon You Know" than the "Closet Muslim Neo-Fascist You Don't." The Press succeeded in swinging the vote, and is now complicit in hiding the ABYSSAMAL job that their chosen one is doing.

4 Trillion dollars.

4 with 12 zeros.

4,000,000,000,000.00

God Help us. I'm barely making ends meet working my ass off for the "Imperial Federal Government" and I'll be lucky if they don't chop the 'tax free' duckets off of my tax return. It's like the ONLY reason I stay here. Tax free is the ONLY reason, and making 100K a yearhelps too. No such thing as that in the states now eh?

BTW: One last note: My mailing addy has changed to

"My Name"

MNCI-C6

APO AE 09342

DSN 485-5981

The DSN Number on the bottom helps the mailroom folks to call me when the stuff shows up. Please feel free to mail me anything and everything. My "other mother" Susan sent some of the most KILLER chocolate chip cookies, which actually made it here inside of 5 days of her mailing them... My thanks for those... they rocked!!!! Any booze drugs or anything else... well, I'm NOT supposed to get them, but at this point, any and all donations are gratefully recieved. Seeings that I'll be home in the end of the month, (R&R Baby YEAH!!!) I'm really looking forward to it.

OH One more thing. Let me know if anyone wants a job over here... working with me. I'm literally hiring another Logistician, so send me them resumes to all who are interested. Until then, I remain, the Intrepid Reporter.

Oh Wow man.... Like WOW!

OK ladies and gents of the studio viewing audience... I'm in Baghdad and my brain is somewhere in the Matrix, and I'm sure somewhere in there I went completely friggin bonkers... either that or I'm sitting in a padded cell somewhere waiting in a haze for the docs to come in and either dose me with my next med or to complete the lobotomy... I'll explain as we go...

OK... when last we left the Intrepid Reporter of Baghdad Fame, he was overwhelmed by the sights, sounds and yes, even the smells of Baghdad. To whit, 2 out of the 3 things have changed, and 1 hasn't. I'll give you a hint... back in the day, ('04 to '05) Lil Country and I used to begin the day with the following scene:
Scene One:
Setting: The cab of a Ford F250 King Cab, two contractors Big Country and Lil Country climb in and start the vehicle.
Big C, (sniffing air loudly): "Dude, did you shit?"
Lil C, (looking offended): "Naw dude, that’s just Iraq!"
END SCENE
Yes, the smells are still the same, a piquant aroma of burning plastic, trash and the heady undercurrent of urine and dried human feces... think of an open sewer, then add some 'spice' to it. Nice huh? However, it’s the ONLY thing that remains the same.

The changes here are insane. No gunfire other than the ranges, which seem to be going on almost ALL the time. I can tell a range from a gunfight as the range has nice orderly pauses in the automatic fire... time for them to reload and aim carefully for the next set of targets. The sounds of a running gunfight tends to blend together and multiple calibers can be easily distinguished... as they said in Heartbreak Ridge "That is the sound of the AK-47 assault rifle, the preferred weapon of our enemy, which makes a distinctive sound when fired at you!" Truer words have never been spoken. So anyways, the ranges are going full time, and amazingly, the Iraqi Army is ALL over the place, and not only that, they are NOT wearing baclavas.

The dork in the back wants to know what a baklava is and why would the Iraqis be wearing Greek Pastry? Sheesh it takes all fucking kinds don’t it? OK. The baclava is pretty much a ski mask ok? Difference between a ski mask and a tactical baclava is that a tactical one is usually made of nomex, which (theoretically) is fireproof, or at least extremely fire resistant and flash resistant. Important things in the soldiering biddness as it were. The importance here is the Iraqis, besides not wanting to lose their rather copious eyebrowz is that they needed to hide their identities. The fact is, back in 04 and 05, if a dude was ID’d as an Iraqi National Guard or Police working with the dirty Invading Christian American Crusaders (their words, not mine!) then not only they would be at risk, but the cowardly fucks who were part of the insurgency would go after their families, hence the need to cover up and hide their identities.

Not anymore however. All the guys I saw going out to do the dirty to the bad guys last night were wearing only Body Armor and weapons… and quite a few fucking weapons I might add. All were carrying M-4 or M-16s which shows how far they’ve come from the days of the ubiquitous AK 47. They looked professional, and truth be told, mean as fuck. Like pissed off and ready to take back and KEEP their country. I wish I could feel bad for the insurgents, but I can’t so fuck ‘em!

Other things… ah yes.. part of the reason I’m sure I’m in a padded cell somewhere… well I was staying for a short period of time (my ‘acclimatization’ as it were) out at another company’s AO. That was good until I was evicted to Camp Victory… specifically Camp Liberty. I had to go down to the ‘Mayors’ Cell’ which is sort of the control and commander for all of the trailer parks here in the base. I went in and the kindly Master SGT hooked me up with a room. The trailer in question is supposed to be close to where I’m constructing a base of operations for the new company. The key had “6-441A-B” written on it which means Pad 6, Trailer 441, room either A or B.

Pad 6 is where I used to live in 04 and 05. I wasn’t prepared however, for the shocker of a lifetime, which goes to prove that I’m either permanently insane, or I’m actually in the Matrix, inside a tube or red goo with wires up my ass, powering a super genius computer or some such shit.

441 was the EXACT SAME TRAILER AND ROOM I lived in back in 04 and 05.

I’m officially ‘blown away’ now because of this. I’m temporarily in what used to be Lil Country’s “Blue Room” until I can move back into what we used to call “The Ponderosa” come Sunday. My old room is currently being used by some of our temp help, so Sunday I move back “Home” so to speak. Tell me I’m not tripping please?

Ok, besides that, I’ll go into some more later without compromising security. Needless to say, this is the EASIEST money I’ve ever made, and the danger is FAR over rated. I’ll holler more soon, and until then, I remain, The Intrepid Reporter.

Booze and Beer RULE!!!

OK: Lately it's NOT the most sobrietious set of postings... to be clean about it, I've been fucked up from the neck up nonstop since I've been home. Booze is your friend... booze is good. The only real complaint I have is because of genetic mutation (Lots of inbreeding in the Irish side of the family tree) is that I have four, count 'em FOUR (4) fully formed and functional kidneys. They found them during my full body MRI a few years back... a bit uncommon, but not unheard of. Yep... the old IR has an extra 100K worth of organs floating around in his carcass, leastways according to my Indian friends who know about Black Market Organ Transplants. I've been told that as a white male, under the age of 40, well, lets just say my organs are worth about 50 grand a shot. Well, that might be fine n' dandy for the folks who NEED a kidney, but the 'normal route' of hijacking and "Drugging and Carving" ain't happening on my watch. Hell... I look forward to some demented asshole who thinks that they can either A) Drug Me or B) Cut out my shit while I'm still breathing. Either choice is an "E Ticket" ride to the morgue. Drugging me? HA HA HA!!! Drugging me is only going to piss me off AND get me high. And B)? Bad move. Especially since I've now officially killed more motherfuckers than Anthrax. (and that means the bio-war agent, not the 80's hair band) Who wants to party?

Me? Well I'm personally annoyed that my internal 'filtration system' is so good that it costs me double the amount in booze and bucks that it should to get me boogered, but hell, what with a "4 Barrel Carb" versus a "2 Barrel Carb" I'll take the extra like any other dude would. Besides, it means like NO hangovers thusfar. This is worth the price of admissions for now.

OK Otherwise, I've been getting prepped for the new gig and ready to deploy downrange. This Pic here posted is of me and my daughter. My Pnut as it were. Any sick fucker out there had better realize that if they even LOOK at her askance, I'll slowly roast them over an open fire for fun. (And I do mean slowly... never, ever test an insane person... it only sets new goals for us to exceed) The rifle is my Accuracy International 300 Winchester Magnum which will reduce a normal human's head to a vaporized paste with one shot.

Anyone want to dance?

It cost near as much as my pickup, but then again, a contractor needs good tools... mine just happen to kill at extreeeeeeeeeme distances and with explosive force. (300 Win. Mag. is a big fucking bullet!)

NOW Speaking of insane shit... I recently had to bag out of my 20th High School Reunion because of the new mission. I posted my lil web blog on the reunion website in hopes that some of my former classmates might find this fun and entertaining. The others, well, we'll leave that there... better not to speak of some seriously fucked up people. And, yeah, you know who you are, and you are alive STRICTLY because I have a forgiving nature.

My reason is, as I spoke earlier of my sniper training (One Shot, One Kill, Ft Benning) and propensity for long distance harm, when thinking about my reunion and High School in general, I remembered the scene from "Billy Madison." Specifically the scene with Steve Buscemi as the geek who was picked on 'way back in the day' that Billy eventually phones and apologizes to. Yeah... I totally was that kid, meaning the picked on bastard... Buscemi then crosses him "off the list" and as the movie works to the finale, Buscemi actually shoots the 'bad guy' who was on the head of the list. Thats great in fantasy... with me, I would have shot them both through the fucking casaba and felt nothing but recoil...

Me, I never made a list, but in the back of my head, particularly as I was a "geek" or an "untouchable" its a good thing I don't hold a hardcore grudge, or leastways have mellowed enough for me to NOT hold a grudge. Realistically, these days, I've found God, and my family. If I didn't have that, then it'd be a whole different world...

Keep in mind to be kind...

I drill my kids on it every day. Needless to say, I never recieved that "phone call asking for forgiveness" and realistically, I'm still bent over some of the shit I went through. The fact that our 20th reunion is now, it's brought back some memories that STILL fucking piss me off, and that that some of the fucking scumbags who were TOTAL fucking cocksmiths to me NEVER got the proper payback... well, hell... I'm still bitter, pissed off, and NOW thankful for a government who trained me to be a stone cold fucking killer... I'll leave it to G*d now... vengence being His and all that... unless I get picked to be His tool... But anyways...

Lets be thankfull that I've mellowed out in my old age AND that I can't make the reunion as I'll be 'busy' in the Middle East. As some say, Thank G*d for small favors. I hope the reunion goes well, but I'm also glad to NOT be there as I really would have trouble resisting the urge to beat the fucking shit out of certain individuals or shoot them outright because as my wife says, I lack impulse control over my base emotions.

Anyways, not to go too pyschoanalytical... High School for most people sucked, but for me, I'd rather spend four years in Guantanamo Bay as a prisoner... and I say this as a former jailer... thats how bad it was. As the Irish say (which I am) "Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold."

Drunkblogging and Other Entertainment

Aight....

I'm back... back and loaded. Locked, Cocked and Loaded with bile and ammo to spare. I'm back in the fucking God Bless America Fuck the Rest of the World United States of Fuckin' America. And if the overuse of profanity offends you, then fuck you, you shouldn't be reading this then.

Reality Check: I got out of Kuwait by doing whats called an "Executive Email Carpet Bomb." This means I sent a "Hey I'm getting fucked" email to the CEO, the CFO, the COO and every single asshole who was an Executive Vice President in the ENTIRE company. Yeah... I sent out a "Hey I'm quitting but are you aware that your dirty assed employees are doing shit that could get you put in jail?" email. That and the lines of "I'm CC'ing my Lawyer and My Brother the Special Agent at the Office of the Inspector General as well." might have had something to do with it.

Now, granted, Hud ain't part of the Department of Defense Inspector General's Office, but he IS an I.G. Special Agent (read Nazi Bastard in the Governments lingo) and by his own words "knows people" and that might have helped me out. The reason being that a Special Agent in the Orifice of The Inspector General is about as popular as a fat bitch at a Catholic Junior High School dance... someone has to dance with her, and if you don't then yer fucked. Namedropping Hud's name and position is a major help in my line of work, especially as they, my crooked assed former employers, knew that to chance having and IG look at them it to invite disaster.

So, last week on Thursday I hit the US and have been drunk since. Drunk and laid I might add. Yep. Been physically assaulting with the intent to impregnate if I had the option. Not that I have to worry about making a baby as I got chopped long ago after kinder #2, as the P'Nut shortly showed up, but trying is 90% of the fun involved.

Today I started with my new company. Got treated like Royalty too.... Mr Big Country as they were calling me... I'll fill you in on it later, but so far, so good. I'll cut this short as I'm working on Buzz Number 20 now, but I'll try to give some political views later... Lots going on, and I found out my Military Mail In Vote was propbably shitcanned... so the election shows that it's goiung to be crooked as hell, and I'll get into it later. Until then, Peace and Party Time!

Now I'm Pissed

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I Loath this Place

Yes... Loathing... as in Fear and Loathing... a Great Man once utilized that term to describe certain aspects of his observations. I myself find it an apt comparison to how I currently feel. The main reason is I found out exactly WHY I'm still stuck in this horrid place.

It would seem, those of you who have been 'tuned in' for the past year or so would be familiar with the issue at hand... well hell let me explain from the beginning. Back in December, Christmas Eve specifically, I got in a haymaker of a car wreck with a Kuwaiti... a real live Kuwaiti. Said accident left me with about a pound and a half of extra metal in ye olde kneecap and an extra zipper to go along with the extra assholes I carry as well. (Note to the uninitiated, shrapnel scars tend to look like a puckered asshole) Well... the accident and subsequent quarter of a million dollars worth of knee reconstruction weren't enough to cover my recovery as it were.

It seems that when my passport was turned into the Kuwaiti Minitry of Immigration, the computer lit up like a knocking shop cash register on pay day, which is exactly what it was... leastways for the fucking Kuwaitis. Seems that during my 'recovery' in the States, I was tried in absentia and found guilty of who the fuck knows what. Reason I say that is that today when I was at the Immigration office, the documentation that the broad behind the counter gave me to sign was all in Arabic with no translation. I had a 'fixer' from my sponsoring company who was with me and told me that signing it was ok, but I have my reservations. For all I know I was signing a document stating I molest Great Danes or that I was "Guilty of Driving While Being a Pork Eating Crusader-Infidel." Either way, besides me signing unknown documents in a strange and forbidden tongue, I also had to fork over KD $100 for the priviledge of getting out of this fucking country. That roughly translates to over $400 US Dollars... serious fucking greenbacks man... dinero I barely have to afford eh?

Fuck me... talk about the proverbial pound of fucking flesh. At least the bastards gave me a fucking reciept, albeit even it is in some strange arabic fucking scrawl... I really don't know what possessed me to sign and fork over the ducats, but I'll be damned if I'm going to stretch out whats already been a long overdue escape.

Once I paid off, I raced back to the work site so I could give the Admin lady the reciept and let her copy it... No way am I giving up the original... that gets held onto as long as I'm still in this goddamned desert... but shge was really nice and it would seem that everythin g is in order, so I have great hopes that I'll be able to fly this weekend and get out of this place for some much deserved R&R. That and my Roomdawg hooked me some Siddique... Yeah... Back to drinking the lighter fluid again... I mean hell... at least I can enjoy the rest of myy day off.

Oh yeah... did I meantion that all of this shit happened on my fuckin day off? Yeah... NOW it's clear why I'm so salty... anyways... More later... Til then, I remain the Disgruntled IR...

OK Something a bit different...

Anyone who knows me knows I love cartoons. I grew up habitually reading the daily comic strips, the sunday funnies and had quite an extensive collection of comics. I still read these things on a regular basis... it's just now we call them "graphic novels" and other such things to justify being a grown man who reads comics. I say to hell with that. I read and still collect comics and all other assorted illustrated ephemera that goes along with them. My personal favorites however are Looney Toons and all the other Classics like Tom and Jerry and I have the DVD collections to prove it.

Now imagine my surprise when I was surfing the other day and came across an article in the Daily Mail website detailing the artistic works of one James Cauty. His gig is to 'reinvent' classic 'toons with a new story and put a new 'spin' on them. The basis of the article was how bloody violent and horrible these images were, and was cautioned as to these aspects before being able to view them in the slideshow. My reaction? It's about damned time someone did this with cartoons. Violent? Yep. Bloody? Yep. Funny? Fuck yeah! I laughed my balls off when I saw them, and figured I have to share as this is too good to let slide by. As we see from this first:

Who hasn't wanted to see that fucking Roadrunner get his? I know in all the years of watching ole Wile E. I always wanted to see that smarmy cocky "Beep Beep" Bird get his. In the pic, you see that Cauty thought the same, and the others in his show seem to show that same "Finally they got what was coming to them!" attitude.

I mean how many times did we see Daffy in "Rabbit Season" get his head blown off? I mean myself, I always liked the Daffster more than any of the other Warner Toons. I mean he's so human. Venal, Twisted, Greedy and Grasping, he's just perfect. Cauty got this one right too. Bugs got it just a bit more radically than I would have done, but hell, it's not my art. Then, this next one we can all agree was "about time" as well:

Now I know it's an MGM Cartoon, but who hasn't wanted to see that self-righteous little fucking rat get his? I know I'm thrilled with the above... the look of satisfaction captured on Tom's face is just about right too... "Yeah... thats right... who's the cat and who's the rat? Yeah... Take THAT and THAT and THAT!!!" Hee.... God... But I saved the best for last. Try this:

Yeeeeeeah!!! "Tastes Great, Less Filling!" is the title I thought when I first saw this. I mean out of ALL the Looney Toons and out of ALL the people who I've ever talked to, almost to a person did everyone say that they positively LOATHED Tweety Bird. Between his 'widdle bird' voice that sounds like fingernails on a blackboard, to his constantly fucking over Sylvester, (who only wants to eat the little yellow bastard) FINALLY in this piece does Cauty put the final nail in Tweety's coffin so to speak. Sylvester finally gets to have himself a Tweety Snack.

Now... The funniest part about this? It seems in the "Big Brother Knows Best" nightmare that England has become, the article that I read and grabbed these images from are all a "Ooh how horrible and twisted" and "..how this will damage the youths who may see it." What a load of crap. Myself? I think the work is brilliant, and if I was in a position to do so, I'd be winging it to England to see the exhibition, if not outright purchase one of these 'new classics.' I just thought I had to share. Let me know what you think.

OK... Again...When do I get to leave?

October is here, and I'm still stuck in Kuwait, working a job that's worn me down to the nub. Yes Dear Readers, The Intrepid Reporter, namely me, Big Country, is still here and even more retarded than usual. When we last left me, I was in the throes of a Siddique Induced Insanity, and hoping that the hangover wouldn't kill me. Good News, Bad News. Good News: The hangover didn't kill me, and yep, the Bad News is that the hangover didn't kill me. Que Sera Sera as they say.


I've been hoping to avoid any sort of politics as of late, but what with the insanity of our Elected Overlords pushing just about any sort of law that benefits Big Biddness or their Corporate Enslavers, what without any sort of oversight, or even giving two shits about how we, the "Common Gunclingers" feel about it. I mean really, the fact that we've essentially crossed the rubicion on the Constitution... crossed it with a vengeance, and that every person I've spoken with over here in Kuwait has pretty much said the same thing: They just don't give a shit about us anymore. My Kids Grandkids are going to be paying for this one... mark my words. The fact that they have set themselves up, and their families with enough financial padding that THEY don't want or need for anything. How about the common man? HA! Good fucking luck on that one pal. Anyways... Enough on the "Corporate Theft of Our Money" i.e. "The Bailout." It's enough to get my blood pressure into the red zone, and Lord knows, I don't need that.


Other things... Well Iraq is coming up soon. Hopefully these jokers here, my own Enslavers, will get off the fucking dime and get me some plane tickets. It's amazing how when I took this job, they couldn't get me over here fast enough. I mean like ZOOOOOOM fast. As in 'blink and you'll miss it' kind of super speed... Hell Ludicrous Speed as it were...

"Prepare for Ludicrous Speed!"

Yeah... I can't resist a Mel Brooks 'insert' but hey... it is true! They got me up and out of the gate like a damned Greyhound chasing that robo-rabbit. That was fine as I needed to earn some real money as opposed to the heavily taxed crap I was earning back at Dell. I mean what good is it to earn $40K a year and then have them take over 25% of it in taxes, if not more?

THATS the main reason I contract. Overseas money means (at least until the Obamamessiah gets elected) tax free money... which in itself is the basis for another ENTIRE subject for another time. I'll leave the Obamammama rants alone for now. Anywho... Like I said... I need for someone to get off the friggin dime and get me the hell out of here so I can have some "Quality Time" with my family. This means get me out of here so I can teach my kids how to shoot and drink enough beer to melt my cortex into my neck. That and -hopefully- spend some alone time with Household Six... even if this means sending the kids to the Demon-in-Laws or outright selling them if I have to. I'm holding on, granted by my fingernails, but man is it a struggle.

The BEST news I can share is that we're finally through Ramadan. The High Holy Days of Allah and Company are over. This means that now we can go back to having some 'normalcy' around here, albeit whats normal here wouldn't pass the smell test back home. The biggest thing to me is that now the stores are open at 'normal hours.' During Ramadan, because it involves fasting from sunup to sundown, these assclowns here close every single store and restuarant in the entire friggin country from sunup til sundown. Can't risk someone not being a good Little Islamic Monkey now and tempt them with a Mickey D's Burger now can we? Nope... we got to close everything down because otherwise someone might be tempted to eat a burger. Yeah... hows that looking for wierdness? It's the same concept of them covering their women up from head to toe with the abaya. You know... the Ninja Wimmen Look.

Yeah... They do this to and I quote: "..to avoid temption and bringing and inciting lust into the hearts of men, a good Muslim Woman will wear the abaya." Yep... it's all about avoiding temptation. By covering a woman up, it keeps that dirty little slut from raising temptation in the hearts of us Good God Fearing men... Like men don't have any self control? I guess if you're a Arab male then maybe they don't have any impulse control? It would explain a LOT about them AND their leaders spouting off like a bunch of Rabid Jackals like Imadinnajacket in Iran saying some of the off the wall shit he spouts. Hmmmn... methinks I might be onto something there. More exploration of that later...

Anyways, besides me being on my usual rant, I'm pleased to say that the Burgers are Back now that this fasting crap is over, and I'm able to get some premium Mickey D's again. I'm just hoping I can get back to the States within the next week so's I can compare the burgers ya know? That's it for now, I suppose I'll have more ammunition for my next little rant. Til then, I remain, The Intrepid Reporter.

Hi Ho Its On to Iraq I Go...

Fuck it. Let me start by getting that out of the way. I finally made a choice and it's Iraq. It's a case of outright retardedness on my point I know. Its a matter of straight economics. I mean what with the meltdown going on worldwide, and in the States, it's the only logical thing for me to do.

The two choices were Japan and Iraq. Most people would be like "Huh thats a no brainer!" and go with the Land of The Rising Sun and Godzilla movies. Me too normally, up until the company in question made me, as Brando said, "An offer I couldn't refuse." I mean when that much money gets flashed metaphorically speaking under one's nose, and you are first and foremost a Mercenary at Heart, then hell... Iraq here I come.

I was sorely tempted by Japan mind you... to the point now I actually have spent the past two months learning basic Japanese and think I could at least make myself, the Giant Gaijin, (thats Whiteboy for all y'all rednecks in the audience) understood at least on a basic level. The Japanese I've found from my research are very much like the French in that if you don't speak the language, you don't rate so high, albeit like the French in that only, and not in general cowardice and foul odors. My few run ins that I had with the JDF or Japanese Defense Forces were limited in my last tour in Iraq, however there was a humorous exchange of views where when I realized that the Jap LT I was speaking to understood English, (more than 70% of Japan does) but was playing dumb so's he didn't have to talk to the Giant Big Nose Gaijin... My resolution to this obvious failure of diplomacy was to start doing what most Ugly Americans do, and that start speaking in increasing volume until I was screaming in his face. (It always cracks me up that some Americans in real life do this whole 'they don't understand so I'll scream it at them and then they'll get it' thing works.) Screaming in this dudes face left me feeling pretty satisified, especially since the liver and onions I had for lunch was decently represented. Take that ya sneaky Jap! Remember Pearl Harbort and all that other crap !!!

Now, needless to say, I'm in shift/change mode now. Iraq... Fucking Iraq...

A horrid place when last I left... befouled air stinking of burning trash and the fetid stench of unwashed Dirty Hajji. An open sore of a country, Iraq represents to me how far a 'First World' Country can fall, and how fast. Now granted, its been almost 2 years since I last rolled in, but I figure it couldn't have changed too much. Supposedly the security has changed, but the first thing that I'm going to do on hitting ground (besides verify that the Duty Free at BIAP is operational) is go see my bro Slim out at 5th Group and retrieve some firepower. If anything I want to have at least my AK or at the minimum a sidearm available. What normal person goes around Baghdad unarmed? Not this Boy let me tell you. When I left Slim had stashed and cached an big ole pile of the Big Country's Firepower. It's time to retrieve that.

So anyhow... it's a good thing I resigned the other day, leastways it makes me feel better to know if the fuzz beat my door down whilst I'm writing and also getting hammered that they ain't gonna do shit to me.

"Hammered Big Country? You ain't supposed to be doing that!"

Yes yes Dear Reader... I said to hell with it... its a Day Off, and a Payday for that matter, so it was only fair that seeing that I'm on the tail end of my tour here, that I have a little one-on-one celebration with some Windex thats called Siddique. Pronounced "Sid-Deek Key" its the Kuwaiti version of Bore Cleaner... Leastways thats how its tasting... or at least thats how it tasted when my tonsils were still operational... as of now I could probably stub a lit cigar out on my tongue and not feel it. Of course, stubbing a lit butt anywhere near my mouth might result in an explosion that blows my fucking head off, so I think I'll pass on that parlor trick for now. It's a entertaining sort of buzz... the kind that leaves you wanting to either pass out, or in my case have out-of-body rushes. I'd definitely recommend it over a NyQuil Buzz, or for that matter the Dreaded "Robo" or "Deadly DM." But more to the point I'd much rather have so Beam or even some Bombay, and I'm not much of a gin drinker. My best bet is to just enjoy what I go while I got it, and roll as they say LOL! Realistically, it's the local moonshine. Seeings how my own personal attempt at still production/beverage making ended up on the ceiling and walls of my kitchen, never mind the funk of the yeast mix that gagged me out for a week, I figgered on just buying the local brand and going for it. Considering that I've been pretty much a 'good boy' in avoiding the Black Market here in Kuwait, I entrusted a colleage to 'fill my order' so to speak. I also very generously allowed him first dibs on a glass full, and when he didn't die or go blind, I figured it was cool to booze it up myself. (Remember Dear Reader, always have a guinea pig available in Third World Countries... Take that as the "IR Travel Tip O The Day")

So that'll wrap it up, sort of like me, for now. The next installment will probably be "Siddique: The Hangover That Melted My Skull" so stay tooned.

I Need a Drink Part II

OK... a couple of you emailed me asking:

"Big Country... Why don't you just have someone mail you some booze?"

Well... Valid point. A favorite way of getting illicit hootch over here, many people including myself have been the recipients of "Care Packages" of "Liquid Love" as I like to think of it. Well all fine and dandy... theres a dozen ways to ship hootch... one of my faves is the "Substitute the Scope" game, whereby the sender replaces a jug of Scope Mouth Wash with a quality Vodka dyed with the appropriate color, be it minty green to cool refreshing blue. The only problem is getting the jug that contained the scope to be mouthwash free before reloading it with Vodka. From painful first hand experience I can tell you that if the mouthwash isn't completely cleaned out, it will give the vodka a 'cool minty' aftertaste that results in a heartburn that feels like Satan himself is trying to burn his way out from your chest. It's not much fun to be having a "...double shot of Smirnoff with a maalox chaser" let me tell you. Makes for a really vicious hangover too.

Other mailing attempts have included the "Lets put Grain Alcohol in a Rubbing Alcohol Bottle!" This is good and bad in two parts. It's a perfect disguise. Perhaps a bit too perfect. So good in that no one suspects that the alcohol in the plastic jug is potable. So bad ALSO in that no one suspects that the alcohol in the plastic jug is potable. I found myself having to desperately convince my friend that I HADN'T gone around the Booze-Hound Bend and that I WASN'T drinking Isopropyl on the Rocks, with a Twist. This while the bastard was about to pour said 190 proof Hootch into the toilet "for my own good." After a prolonged wrestling match and finally after swearing on the Eternal Soul of my Mother (sorry Mom!) did he relent and let me show him the enclosed letter explaining that I needed to drink this particular jug, rather than use it to sooth my razor burn. (In reality, it could have done both!)

The real reason I'm well behaved is that as of July here in Kuwait the Local Yokels and County Mounties have gotten themselves a new toy. One that allows them to pretty much smell booze in a sealed package. This in turn led to the single largest bust in the history of the Army Support Group here and to the point they even took pictures for posterity. That and they just wanted to tease us and show how much Booze they busted. As you can see...

...I'm sure that the MP brigade on post had one hell of a party. 90 1.75 Liters of Hootch... 66 Bottles of Vodka and the rest was Jack and Jim, respectively. We're talking "Booze Baron" levels a.k.a Homer Simpson on the amounts. And this was only because of the new handy dandy XRay Toy that the military just picked up.

To give a rough approximation, according to sources, The Black Market Value of just one jug of Jack is like anywhere from 200 to 350 US Dollars. Yeah... banning it made it a real commodity on the Black Market. My guess is that this particular batch was worth around twenty grand on the low side in resale value. Needless to say, I may want to make cash, but not at the risk of getting caught. Here in Kuwait I heard that the jail cells aren't very large... just large enough for you and your cellmate to get to know each other 'intimately.' So no thanks on that.

Me, I'll wait til November when I go on R&R.

Obama's Thin Skin

Nevermind the color... it would seem that the Man Who Would Be King...er...President is a bit 'thin skinned' as it were. The Mainstream Media has done a great job of covering for him, but I realized today that he's just NOT Presidential Material.

"Why Big Country! You RACIST!"

Well, nope. I'm not. Far from it. I'm a realist. Right now has it occurred to anyone (and I know it has) that Old Barry is a bit "Over The Top" on his defensiveness and attacks on the VICE-Presidential pick? Shouldn't Ole Barry be a bit more concerned with the Presidential competition? He and his more rabid supporters have been going pretty much nonstop since the announcement and Sarah Palin's speech. It would seem that he's a bit too...shall we say obsessed? with his constant hammering and he's been revealing a bit too much of himself in a negative fashion.

Between his failure to be either gracious and/or congratulatory at the announcement of Governor Palin becoming the VP candidate, and his rather poor attacks attempting to belittle her achievements, (he only mentioned her being a mayor of a small town), he's done gone and shot himself in the foot continuously. His deployment of a squad of lawyers to Alaska to 'dig dirt' on her is just awful. If McCain did this, the media would be screaming from their ivory towers: "Hangin's too good for 'im!" Obama's inability to get past this, and his obvious sexist attitude (which the media has continually given him a pass on) is showing on all levels... and as we're seeing in the polls and in his money donations falling, this is translating to lost support.

His continual harping on how "She's just a continuation of Bush's Policies" and his near-tantrum of "But I'm the real agent for change!!!" is more suited to my 7 year old daughter throwing a fit when she doesn't get her pick for the movie on Friday night, rather than of a Presidential Nominee.

It's downright embarassing.

And the American Public has noticed.