Sorry Kids. I am stupid Drunk–Not Really. Just Stupid–Had to Re-Post This—Expanded A Bit. I Miss My Navy SEAL Training Hazy Daze!

Happy Cockeyed Optimist.

“I’m Stuck Like a Dope With On a Thing called ‘Hope”

I am Stupid Naive!

Immature and Incurably Green

I’ve loved my life!

Cockeyed Optimist

Mitzi Gaynor

(From “South Pacific”)

Never Worry!

“Worry” is the most useless waste of human emotions

A waste of time and energy!

***

Video Credit: BobbyMcFerrin #DontWorryBeHappy #Vevo

Late entry/addition which no one will see. I drop it anyway. just a fond memory:

When I was in Navy SEAL training, late Eighties, we had, everyday, to run around with IBS on our head (IBS: Inflatable-Boat-Small).

This is part of a song we made up:

“Oh IBS! Stuck To My Head I Guess!”

The Instructors Often Filled Them With Sand.

Just For The Added Fun

Rock Portage

So Much Fun!

(One of My Shipmates Managed To Break His Leg While We Were ‘Performing’ This Fun Little ‘Evolution’.)


NAVY SEAL TRAINING: BUD/S

Surf Passage

I loved My Times Two Navy SEAL

Training Experience (’86 & ’88)

This Guy, Patstone, is Very Representative of Your

Typical BUD/s Instructor

I Think Somewhere In-A-Hidden, Very Top-Secret So Cal Location There is A ‘Clone Lab’ Where The Navy Makes These Guys

Instructor Patstone

Whom I Got To Know Too Well

(For My Taste)

******

One day, one morning, my class mustered and went to retrieve our assigned IBS’s. Someone in another boat crew was laughing manically.

WTF? I pondered.

I walked over to the boat crew.

“What is so goddamn funny?” I asked.

“Lookit this shit” one said.

I looked at their IBS.

One of the SEAL instructors had spray-painted on all the IBS’s

“Don’t worry; Be Happy.”

Video Credit: BobbyMcFerrin #DontWorryBeHappy #Vevo

***

I had to laugh.’

I did still manage to maintain my sense of humor, even though I knew I was probably gonna die that day….

Damn! I miss those days. And all the ‘good’ times!

Yeah. Believe what you’ve heard/read: SEAL training is BRUTAL. But ya gotta keep a sense of humor about you. Or at least in your pocket.

****

I love Barb in Her Sailor Suit!!

(Judy, You know I LOVE You Too!)

“Happy Days Are Here Again!”

Video Credit: George John

Running in Soft Sand: SEAL Training Part Three. But Truthfully More Alternate Stuff (I’ll Write Another ‘Proper’ BUD/s Post Soon)

I actually know this meme-guy: he was an Instructor in BUD/s Class 158. I Know. I was there.

 

 

A BUD/s Instructor, i.e., a ‘Demigod’

 

Or…

Alternate Titles:

“Lance’s Ramblings from his 115th Dream Stream”

(Sorry Bob)

“Call me if they die.”

‘Semi Consciousness Streams of Conscientiousness’

 

Raining upon My Hit Parade’

‘Nights in White Satin’ – that one makes no sense. That is why I put it in.

Vid Cred: Redbaron863

Or, last and least perhaps: “I have become my Grandfather, or How I became Andy Rooney in One Thousand Words or Less, an essay.”

Gentle Readers, it has not escaped my undying attention that I tend to lean heavily toward the overly-dramatic. The ‘trauma drama’ effect even. Call it a ‘crutch’ if you will.

Yep. Call it that.

This I do know. Therefore, I have (Through my magical powers derived from watching old re-runs of ‘Dragnet’—“Just the facts Ma’am. Just the facts.”—decided to ‘come on back down to Earth, Son’.

–Boz Scaggs: Lowdown)

My (solely appreciated) goal here is to present just ‘them’—just them facts.

I hope I am successful. For y’all’s sake.

When last we left our hero, he was leading his class to their first BUD/s workout. Well, you cannot really call it such: more like a medieval (‘I’m gonna get medieval on your ass’) torture session.

Whatever

 

Even at zero five (‘Zero Dark Thirty?), The Grinder was a hot, miserable place to be, especially NOT designed for yoga or even step-up aerobics, and / or certainly not Pilates. (Gay Pirates?) No. ‘Twas Wasn’t. There is a reason they (Navy) call it ‘The Grinder.” You go ahead and figure out the obvious.

But this day I do not wanna write about Those Lazy Crazy Hazy Days of Summer…

I want to write about this:

I think. I think I am. Therefore I am… I think.

–Moody Blues, With apologies to René Descartes

***

Now Y’all, much of that I wrote late last night. (Under Some Influence)

Didn’t publish. (Thank Baby Hey Zeus). But I woke up this morning

(Praise be to Allah—Ah Ha!) And you, yes you! (My Human Friends) were on my mind:

To MORE BAD News Stories. I shall list them below so that you may share in ‘The Misery’ That is OUR ‘New World’ (You may thank me later. Send cards and letters…)

  1. The Middle East is still throwing gasoline upon their (and our) raging fire

  2. There will probably never be closure nor justice for Michael Brown or his family

  3. Ebola is raging strong (But only in Africa: So, who cares, right? The WHO, that’s who)

  4. ISIS is our new (never heard of till yesterday) National Crisis & Clear and Present Danger (or new best friend for our Military Industrial Complex, off of which I tend to make MY living)—Much hand-wringing and soul searching over that one. NOT! Damn! Put me in Coach! I live for this shit!

  5. My dog has fleas… Fuckin’ fleas. Dogs!

  6. My British GF finds me… well, of late, she don’t (find me)

  7. I dreamt late last night about my favorite dead cat (Her name was Lucia and she was ‘The Cat From Hell’ and I miss her still—probably the only ‘real’ relationship I have ever had with ‘pussy.’)

  8. My blood pressure remains off the chart and I think I may have given myself diabetes: Type Duh

  9. I have been remiss in visiting and commenting on the blogs of my good friends

  10. Maybe I will just go and eat worms. Maybe I like to eat worms…

Now, Don’t let it bring you down, but that is how I woke up. (And I was happy to have woken up… for just-one-more-day…stay?)

And hey!

Don't stay here

Photo taken in Iraq (or Afghanistan) I honestly don’t remember…

There really is no point to this post. Let us just call it “Unconscious Stream of Consciousness”.

And I will most likely, delete it (and y’all know, I am quick on the mouse trigger when it comes to deletion: I see it as a form of… birth control. So read fast!)

So There.

Now to the ‘Meat of the Matter’:

KAREN

I want to write about ‘The Age of Innocence’: The Seventies.

Yep. I tend to live in the glory that was Roaming… You may bail out here. Here, in fact here is your parachute. Be certain to locate the RIP Cord before you exit the plane: Just a word to some wise and hey!

Bon Voyage!

***

For those of y’all who still remain, I want to write about Karen Carpenter. Not ‘The’ Karen Carpenter, but the Karen Carpenter that symbolized how I felt about the Seventies. Yeah, that one. Her.

***

I woke up with Karen Carpenter on my mind (and yes: I have posted about her recently, but I wanted to try to explain why now)

I woke up with Karen and sadly not in my bed, but in my mind.

Why?

Because… of the ‘Age of Innocents.’ I call her one. The first casualty of the sickness that guides us: This American Dream of having to be some other person. A person, in the spotlight who is …. Drumroll: PERFECT!

No one is perfect and certainly not me (though I am pretty close). Yet, no one is perfection. We cannot be. There is no God and if you believe that there is, you are about as far removed from ‘Perfection’ as a Human…

I should delete that sentence, as it is not Germane, nor German, to my point. Let me think on it…

Back to The Seventies: The Age of Innocents (I was innocent; were you? Probab’ly not.)…

I am running on empty now/here.

“I don’t know where I’m runnin’ now; I’m just runnin’ on…

The Seventies.

I would like some thoughts on that/those. From you! And then, having received same, I will continue. Maybe.

Your choice.

Shalom

Salaam

Namaste

Hook ‘em Horns

Peace,

–Lancers

And P.S. I am sorry for stealing all the vid clips. I will (I promise) accolade y’all later–more later–but later)

And: to any readers I have left:

I am in some form of cryxis: I will be, as Shakespeare once wrote, “King Richard is himself again.” once be.

Stay tuned…
Or not: Yer choice.

Peach,

Lanced

Oh! And by the way… Jackson Browne was/is an asshole

Read it here

Bye now…

All The Lettuce is Brown, Alien, And Alive! Yes, I Am Properly Fucked! Oh, Almost Forgot: and the Milk is Gray

All the lettuce is brown

And the milk

is

Gray

So I ran away!

Cass,

Yeah, I’d Fuck her

Twice!

Even Thrice!

Because shit like brown, pulsating, alive lettuce frightens me. I prefer my lettuce dead, not running about, chasing me.

And gray milk?

Don’t think so!

Not appealing to me.

Been there.

Done that.

In Iraq.

Never again.

No Sir. No Ma’am!

My Life?

I’m lovin’ it!

Wanna keep it.

Alive.

Wanna keep my life… alive.

Spend your pity on someone else.

But first call in an air-strike on the lettuce–for me–thanks– ‘preciate Ya!

I will survive.

Thank you

Drive Thru

Better Version Found Below

P.S., I Love You Michelle

Cali-Dreamin’ and Schemin’

Vid Cred: Thefreddy Show

***

Added Bonus Reference

“P.S., I love you.” You. You. You. (Michelle, My Belle.)

Rhonda Chapter (I forget) Eventually, I Managed to Marry Her In Lost Wages…. I Spent ALL of Our Honey-Moon Money at the ‘Oh Craps I Lost Tables’

Seven Come Eleven on A rusty Dime—Nigger Got Choked on a Water-Mellon Rhine”And No! I am NOT Racist—I Just Love My Southern Heritage.

I ALWAYS Bet on the ‘Hard Four’—A Sucker Bet—But I wAS Always A ;sucker

While working as a calibration technician at “Spam” Instruments,

One day this broad shows up as a ‘co-worker.’

Let’s call her name ‘Rhonda.’  For that was her Christian Name.

We were working in tight quarters in a smallish factory room.

Me calibrating my ass off.

She assembling gauges her ass off.

We almost fell in love.

But

Alas

We were both married.

To not us

Yet that beat went on.

For a year.

Of course there was always this between us:

To be continued…

Of course I loved her.

I eventually married her.

Twice.

UBH Chapter Two

So, after the ‘checking in’ process was sorted, I was led into the ‘Community Room’ and parked there.

“Wait! Where is the help I was promised?”

“The doctor will be about shortly”

“Okay. I’ll wait.”

I sat down in the corner and observed the people—my fellow in-mates.

The whole group seemed to be rather lethargic.

“What this group needs is a shot of Beam” I thought to myself.

As I was watching, I spied a young, Ornamental Girl who seemed to have some energy left in her body.

And I wanted to have some chat with her.

Turns out later, her name was ‘Ethel’ (fake name) but no way I could have known that at this time. I just wanted to get close to her.

And, eventually, I did.

Rest is history.

After about two hours of ‘inmate watching’ I sat down, introduced myself and announced ‘I am the smartest person in this room.’

Imagine my surprise when the laughter hit me like a slow bullet.

But ‘Ethel,’ ‘ET’ that was her nic…. Sat down beside me…

Thus began yet another unrequited love affair…

More to come…

She is not Chinese, but I could not find any Cambodian-American songs.

This will have to suffice.

Hits Way Too Close To My Home. JUST One More on My Miss-Adventures With Alcohol: Twenty-Eight Days & A ‘Wake Up’

Bolts Right Through My Heart

“In My Dreams I Don’t Die.”

In RL, Well, We’ll See.

I AM Sick.

I Need Help. Serious Help.

Serious Professional Help.

Have I Ever Mentioned

How Much I Worship, Admire, & Respect

Sandra Bullock?

This is such a wonderful movie,

But I saw way too much of myself in it.

This is not vain vanity from me.

Just fact.

If you do not watch the vids,

Why are you Even Here Wasting Your Time?

P.S. Fun Fact and spoiler alert: Sandra is prettier than me.

Just thought you should know.

You’re welcome.

***

How many people have I hurt?

How many lives have I dragged down into the muck and mire with mine?

How many loving wives and good women have I cast away?

Got a Super-Duper Calculator?

You’ll need it.

Life Imitating My ‘Art.’

Hits a little too close to My Home:

If you only have time for one vid, this one below is it.

WATCH IT

IT IS BRILLIANT

And it makes me cry every time I watch it… hits me right through my heart

“In My dreams I don’t die.”

Street Cred For Vid: welovesandrabullock

******

******

Some say beauty is just skin deep
Most of the time, this is true
But not with Sandra Bullock!
She is beauty
Through and through!

******

My fervent wish is that I had not cast away all the good people who offered a shoulder for me to lean on…

******

Trust Me. The below works

It Works.

Just Deploy A Little Imagination.

Credit: CCR

DUH