Sad things in life has to appear again, the next day being the 13th, I had to go to my late grandfather's 3-year mass. Although not religious anymore, I do feel very obligated to show my late grandfather my respects. And the wondering lingering if Heaven and Hell do exist, (I'm back to agnostic now...) and seeing my gay 'supposive' cousin. Me and my brother (us sinful bastards) were making jokes about the guy at the last moments of service. Leaving to the dinner we usually have after the mass, my pal Country Bear (who was also a Meb board and in PTRP, a 'double-service' man, he was in the Air Force before he went into the Army.) called my cell while I was on my way to dinner. He said things were happening at his neck of the woods in Hot Springs, Arkansas. Had leased a new 2003 vehicle and things seem to work out for him. He said he was helping me out with the website honkee.org (At the time, Honkee.org was a tasteless media website. Now, it is the avatar for The Greater Detroit **** Council) by telling his friends in Hot Springs about it. Good ole' Country Bear, I feel sorry that his second attempt to be a part of the forces failed. But like me, it didn't seem to daze him much.

At the dinner, it was all family, since I got back from the service, I was expecting a lot of people to be surprised I was back, hell, my gay '' cousin would probably be happy too, sadly, in that other way. Instead, not really a reaction. So since that reaction didn't go as swell as I though, I didn't seem to socialize much with the family. A plus was that my gay '' cousin wasn't around. I guess he had something important to do. I don't know... After the dinner and the disappointment, I arrived home, I stayed up till 4am, me and Paul (or DTA) were mainly talking about the good ole days gone badly and why the dinner party was not so grand as I wished it would.

The next morning, I awoke at 10:30 the next morning to hear that Saddam Hussein was finally captured. My mother said to me, "They caught Saddam." Glad I was, but yet disappointed about the fact that I wasn't involved with capturing the prick or being in Iraq or Korea all together. I felt as if I was supposed to be in Iraq, fighting for the United States. Thanks to the injury and to those people who were top brass in my BCT battery, "Good ole 1/40th, eh? Train for war... heh-heh-heeeeeh...." that did not happen. Also, that he got caught the next day I left Fort Sill and basically the Army. (I was still under TDY status which meant I was legally in the Army till 31 Dec 2003.) I then get a call from my Aunt. She complained about my 'behavior' at the dinner party. I told her my reasons, "No one or very few really seemed to care." She assured me that everyone was excited that my presence was there. But that didn't seem that way to me. She then said that she wishes I would be more open to family members and cousins. To be truthful, some of these people, I see them only once or twice a year, I have troubles remembering most of there names, let alone, I don't even remember my gay '' cousins name. It like this:

"Hey, Robert."

"Uhh...."

"You don't remember me??"

"I don't..."

"I'm your third cousin Jonas!"

"I see..."

"Com'mere and give me a hug!!"

"No."

Back to the phone call, my Aunt asked me if I was going to live in their place until I get back on my feet. I said I don't know yet, they told me it is not recommended that I live with my Mother in Mt. Clemens. My Aunt's place overrates my Mother's place by far; they have near-premium cable and cable Internet. Plus, I don't have to worry about being around the "riff-raff" because my Aunt resides in a nice neighborhood, Lake Orion. But since I already have a complaint (plus a few from my cousins I see once or twice a year) about my attitude and conversion from being a fat prick to, well, being just a prick, I don't think they would like me being in there home. My Aunt and Uncle are both perfectionists. Since I'm nowhere in hell perfect, (I can be a real prick...) I think it's best that I stay in Mount Clemens. Being in Rochester (south of Lake Orion, commonly go there than Lake Orion) would be nice; I grew up 7 years there, when I was at the ages of 8-15. Took it for granted though.... So many good memories, and bad ones follow... ****.

~~ "Too much happening, Saddam Hussein has been captured, some of my family members are complaining about me not wanting to play 'Mr. Special' to my cousin I see only once every 5 years, and I just had to face a anniversary that I didn't like. I never thought this would be a combination."

Three days later on the 16 Dec 2003, I went to a church service to help remember those who have died. No special service, just a combination of pictures and memories of people who had passed away. This would be for the lost of dear Tyler Lee Jones who is no longer with us due to a horrible boating accident. Tyler lost his life in August 2003, I could not obtain leave to attend the funeral, he was not an immediate family member, and since I was still in the US Army under Training status, I could not be granted that. My Uncle Chris and I went to a Psyberbearen church, it was not really a worship service, and it was a gathering to remember those who passed away. Same applies here, although I'm no longer part of Christianity, I still had to pay my respects to dear Tyler.

During this gathering, a Microsoft PowerPoint movie was on the projector of series of pictures/photos of the multiple people who have passed away, with their names below. Each showing was about 4 seconds long and in alphabetical order. Those who are family and/or friends who have the unhappy experience of losing a loved one supplied these photos. Included in this was Tyler Lee Jones, my cousin who has sadly lost his life. Tyler's mom and dad (I'm keeping there names of, for the respect of privacy) had a reaction to that when his name and face was posted onto the screen.

~~ "At that time, I was imagining myself on there. My face with 'Robert Lee Thomas' on the bottom. Hell, if I'm that lucky, maybe they will have a picture about me getting kicked in the ass. Or a "boot to the face" as that angry crazy-ass SDNCO said to me on that faithful week of AIT. With that in mind, some guy seeing me on there saying: " **** that ************!" With lots of cheers following. I had 10 1/2 months of being called an unworthy prick, my expectations of the public's silent hatred was extremely on the rise. Now, I'm being referred to a cold-hearted person due to not wanting to be socialable. Not very nice!"

~~ "Entering that church and seeing individuals grieve from there losses, It made me think of a combination of things. After serving in a hate fury in the United States Army, I now find me in a place of love. Although, surrounded by mainly good-hearted people, my sad military horror experiences came floating inside.

After this showing of the people who we have had there life stolen away from them for some reasons unknown, Paul and I decided to watch a DVD. I wanted to watch Hannibal. Here I am, just got back from a remembrance, later I decide to watch a horror-film, I'm a sick ****.... Anyways, I got to watch Hannibal one and a half times during my slave-time in the US Army. Hannibal wasn't much of an action-packed film, but it was nice to watch. It had my dream girl (or should I say woman) as Special Agent Clerice Starling; the lovely Julianne Moore.

On the 18th, Me, Paul and a new pal named Jesse decided to play the part of being little PABs. Or at least Jesse and Paul did. Since Jesse has the privilege of having a vhs camera recorder. We went to a 'bear.' A Christmas 'bear.' It was a decorated blow-up bear. The bear decoration has been vandalized, or in 'wigger' terms, " ****** with" a lot. Me holding the camera and Paul and Jesse about to 'kick the bear's ass' as Jesse referred to it as, I was being on of those drama pricks just for kicks, "Did the bear make fun of you?" "Did the bear call you a Jew?," "Did it say bad things about your circumcision?" I guess I was trying to "shock" them with my anti-Semitic remarks, that didn't stop with 'kicking the bears ass.' While they were beating the **** out of the bear, (Jesse and Paul), I was the one filming 'Bear Beating Punks: Caught on tape.' We then decided to run away afterwards, Me, Paul and Jesse ran different directions. Jesse ran one way; Paul ran the opposite way Jesse ran. And I ran across the field, not wanting to be on the street. Paul and Jesse thought to themselves, "what the hell?" So they then decide to follow me. We went to another street. Jesse was acting big and bad and seemed to be proud of the new film he has pursued in.

Next up, it was Christmas Eve. Usually on Christmas Eve, we go to my Uncle Johnny's place to reside. But instead, we went to my Uncle Nino's place. I wasn't expecting anything for Xmas, but wal-lah... I got a coat and a few long sleeve shirts. I was quite thankful.

When I went to bed at 1am, I was starting to feel knee and stomach pain. As for the stomach pain, I tried to **** it out. Didn't work... I tried laxative, that didn't work either, I was thinking to myself, "what the ****??" It's now 3am and I'm up trying to cure the pains I'm felling, the knee pain was lingering away due to the Advil I took. (I bought Advil first thing when I arrived home, since I was struggling with chronic right leg pain...) Still, the stomach pain was acting up. I felt like going apeshit and busting things due to the pain. I couldn't handle it. So I went into the front room to lay straight. I was half-asleep but could not go to sleep all the way due to the pain. Last time I looked at the clock, it was 4:15am. Eventually, I fell asleep. I awoke at 6:30am by my little brother Tony, 11. He was happy to see all the loot he got. He should be... my mother is not rich and we are living in a **** economy. I decided to go to my bed and fall asleep, I felt like ****. My Uncle Chris (he lives with us, moved in a few weeks after my late grandfathers passing) woke me up at 8am; he said that mother would like to see me open my presents. I wasn't expecting much; I already knew what two of my presents were anyway. I got a GOLD version of one of my favorite music albums of all time, RUSH - Signals. I also got the game boy color game Pokemon Yellow, my favorite one of all. Although I'm 22, I'm still a Pokemon fan. The rest was candy and stuff for my upcoming vehicle. Tired as hell, I went back to bed to sleep in.

I woke up at 11:30 and I couldn't even get my ass out of bed since I was so tired, but I basically got my ass out of bed on my own. Since it was 11:30, I had one and a half hours to get ready to go to my cousin's home in Armada. Driving through Armada, I took a look at all these nice homes in this happy/nice neighborhood. I looked at these homes and said to myself: "This is nice, it's too bad I won't be able to own or afford to rent any of these in my lifetime."

A few days later, the 29th I impose, my brother DTA bought a bag of marijuana. With that, we were able to make two doobies. This was my first time smoking pot since September 2002. Fifteen ******* months! ****... I was away from it too long. Hell, I did not smoke any cigarettes for those 10.5 months I was present in the service. Since I got back, it was like 1-3 a day. Back then it was 1-2 a week. I went 1-2 weeks at a time without smoking. I guess I'm not as addicted as the average person who smokes. We needed that after or big room switching, Paul and myself have our own room now, my mom with her own, and Tony and my uncle Chris have a room. Since the home has only 3 rooms, we had to make a risk. I was NOT going to share a room with my Uncle Chris. He wakes up to the lightest sounds and he starts bitching after this. My uncle isn't violent physically, but sometimes verbally, violent verbal skits happen when my Uncle is high on marijuana, hears loud-blaring rap music played on a passing vehicle, which most likely is some 16-year-old little **** driving daddy's new car in hopes to get some *****, and of course, when he is disturbed by his rest. (Can't blame him for that...)

The next morning, I was planning for New Years Eve. It would be my actual final day of being in the United States Armed Forces. So on that morning, I asked Paul what party we are going to, He told me about Jesse's party. I also checked my cell phone, apparently James called. I called James on the day I arrived in Detroit just to see if he got to Cleveland without any troubles. It was his answering machine, so I left a message; he called back the next day (while I was at my grandfathers mass) to let me know that he got to Cleveland on time. This time, he called to say hello and he was laughing his ass off after listening to my new voice mail message, I had a comedy album I was basically obsessed with back in 2000 entitled "Prank Calls From Hell" which a anonymous comedian calls a pay phone multiple times. He (the comedian) calls one Saturday night where a gang of punk ass ***** teenagers are by the phone. Just to piss them off, he plays 'fishheads' by Barnes & Barnes. I recorded 15 seconds of that (the maximum time I can use the greeting for) and had that as my greeting. My mother told me that Tony's father Bob was going to spend the night here on Dec 30, which happens to be Bob's birthday. Bob was basically, a stepfather to Paul and me back in the days when we lived in Eastpointe. Or should I say, Paul and that other guy. For Bob's birthday, him, Tony and me played 2 games of Simpson's Monopoly. I end up winning both of those games. There's the Army for you, I kicked ass in Monopoly. "Uhh-huh-huh-huh...." Well, since this is just ******* Monopoly, I didn't feel too keen of winning both games. Maybe I should be a financial adviser.

It was New Years Eve morning, and I was so happy that my final hours of being in the United States Army was counting down to zero... closely. For fun, I wore one of my Army Pants (and not the BDU top) to celebrate my little contribution to the service. Myself, Paul, Jason (better known as 'goat boy') and Paul's girlfriend Stacey all went next door to Jesse's New Years Eve Bash at around 9:30p. Jesse's home was owned or at least say compensated by his Aunt at the time. I visited the house previously to take a look at their computer and see what needs a fixing. Jesse's Aunt's (can't remember her first name and I don't think in these times Jesse and his aunt have the same last name.) boyfriend had a video camera in his possession (the same exact one used with mine, Paul's and Jesse's version of "Bear Beating Punks") filming us walking in the door. He I saw me with my military pants on and said, "Hey, it's Military Joe." I thought that was funny as ****. So I told him, "It's my official last day of the Army." We all collected into Jesse's room. The room was small and it was quite crowded in there with 12 ************* (including us 4 in just entering in.) Paul S, Mike, Mike's Girl, Jesse, Courtney (Jesse's Girl), and three other individuals. The three individuals I didn't know well, left sometime after the three and me entered the party. Although I was the oldest person (21 at the time) in the room at most times, (People, like Jesse's Aunt, Jesse's Aunt's Boyfriend and others would walk in at times.) there was vodka, beer, custom-made marijuana cigarettes and regular cigarettes passed around.

People later were passing shots of vodka like when one of the DS's at FTB going apeshit about motivation. Or rather when SSgt. what's his name went apeshit when I did my chart wrong in AIT. (The prick probably beats his wife...) They handed me a shot, since I don't drink, I refused at first, but then I said, "let me try." They filed the shot glass up fully and I had I guess 1/6th of it and it tasted like cough syrup with no flavoring added to it. (That's how it tastes for me.) I asked everyone drinking: "How the hell can you drink this ****?" The only "poisons" that I like was cherry Pucker or one of those TGI Friday's mudslides. (Chocolate Milk and Alcohol, yum!) But this **** I just had a few drops of was ******* horrible. Jesse's Aunt's Boyfriend popped into the room again with the video recorder filming all of us. He then had his camera locked on me. "It's Military Joe," he said. Then he continued, "Y'all better watch out, he'll kick someone's ass." Later, when I walked out of the room to the living room to get a lighter for the marijuana cigarettes. He was there with the camera, "Hey, it's the Military Guy." I'm glad at least some people out there appreciate my 'service' in the Army. Although, all I did was complete basic training, and in for injuring myself, I was in a non-stop sausage-fest surrounded by DS's, DS wannabes, guys, and assholes, a person who seem to be committed to me going apeshit due to his insults, as long as he doesn't get hurt. Really, that doesn't amount to a lot at all. But most people would never go into the Army or the Marines or any service whatsoever simply because they cannot handle getting yelled at.

A guy I remember in PTRP (well call him Casey), surely had a strong hatred to 'crazy individuals' but minus his pal (Let's call him Brandon). I was considered 'crazy' or 'abnormal' to Casey. When Mr. Casey entered PTRP, he soon became Platoon Guide (PG) due to a little chat with the SDS about how the PG at that time was not doing a good job. So, the next day, the SDS grants PG status to Mr. Casey and APG status to my pal Alan. Alan was a Specialist, he had a bachelor's degree in something, and Alan was one of the nicest people a person in search of nice people could find. He also played PG when PG White-Boi had to go to the hospital for a number of days due to the problem he was sent to PTRP for. Also, a person in PTRP went apeshit and said to Alan, "I'll fuckin' chop you up!" Alan was calm and basically told the guy to calm down. He's better than I am at this, if that guy said that to me, I would recommend that guy to prepare for a emergency hospital visit to get your head examined for brain damage. Even if that guy happen to get to me first, since I was in physical pain most times of each passing day in PTRP, it really didn't matter.

Casey lost his PG status while I was rotting at FTB being called an unworthy prick by a few DS's and that faggot-fuck first sergeant. Then again, maybe I shouldn't insult him, (The 1SG -first sergeant- at FTB at the time) he was one of the reason's why I got out of the Army. Back to why PG Casey lost PG in front of his name. He was apparently caught smoking and I suppose the SDS or some other personnel (or 'Cadre' as they call it in the military) caught him in the act. So in turn, PG status went to PTRP veteran Rick. (Alan Returned To Training.) Since I would guess Ricardo had a lot more sense or class than most of the people being tortured in PTRP due to accidental injury. When I got back to PTRP from getting my ass kicked and pissing off my injured knee and leg. I was told the news of how PG Casey lost PG status. I was glad to be back but very disappointed in myself a lot for failing at what I should of completed. My SDS and I talked afterwards, he said if I don't improve, back to week 1 of BCT.

Casey or Whitey was RTTable around the week of the huffing incident. He, before leaving, said I was a ***** and he was going to finish training and then go to Detroit and said he was going to rape some of my female family members, (referring to my mother, cousins, sister [I have a half-sister I never seen before in my life]) and something along the lines of beating the **** out of my father. I replied: "If I see or hear about you in Detroit attempting to do that, I'll kill you myself. And, my father is dead, you ******* ******." Since I was being called an complete ******* idiot by DS's, NCO and Non-NCOs who think there hard **** but won't go to Drill Sergeant School (Pussies), and other basic/AIT trainees for counting eight months, I became a harder person. I guess I followed Alan's example somewhat, but not all the way since I attacked back. The famous rapper Ice-T one said, "Death makes you harder when you go through it."

Some time after the huffing incident, while I was waiting for my bone scan to state whether I'm ****** up or not, I say the week that I was going to have my bone scan done, just before I got sent to CMHS for my Black Book. The **** head Fmr PTRP PG Casey came back to PTRP. He injured his wrist I suppose. I was thinking to myself, prepare for war. Apparently, it wasn't as bad as I though, although he got quite shitty with me here and there. The only times he seem to be insulting was when he was around his pals. That made me think a lot, I asked myself this question many times from then till when I was told I wasn't much use to the Army due to my injury: "If or when I go to war, will I have my own soldiers or 'battle buddies' (as they call it in the United States Army) run away scared shitless because they can't handle it?" "Will me and Pvt Fuckbag (or some one like him or wants to be like him) be in the same foxhole and when the **** hits the fan, will he run away scared!?" I would hate for that to happen to me. Me being in the foxhole and then being abandoned due to a shittalker's secret: 'Shittalker can't handle the ****.' Of course, all or at least most people are afraid of bullets flying at them. I NEVER said that you're weak or weak-minded to be scared of war. There is a difference between the solider and the **** talker disguised as the solider. A real solider fights until it's over, or until he cannot due to injury, or if he loses his life. The shittalker runs from it, he says he's going to do it, but can't handle the ****. With that in mind, maybe Mr. Casey shouldn't have signed up for the Army in the first place.

~~ "Same applies with Basic Training, no one could ever act like hot **** unless his friends were around. I'd say, if you scared to anger a 'nerdy individual' or a 'crazy person' all by yourself, Maybe, you shouldn't of went into the Army in the first place."

After I left PTRP, Mr. Casey went to the hospital for sick call, or otherwise, just went to sick call and went to the hospital with a battle buddy. Then I guess he took a cab to the Burger King in Fort Sill with a battle buddy. Some anonymous person tipped off the SDS at PTRP about him being at Burger King. Since Casey is not allowed to be at Burger King unless he is on pass. Passes were only allowed on the weekends, and this day was sure enough not a weekend. I heard about all of this from a pal over at Foxtrot 1/19. He then said he thinks the anonymous caller was me or either my pal James (the guy who left the Army with.) I could not make a call to the SDS in PTRP without him noticing my voice or any of those DS's, or ****, even hillbilly Sgt. fuckface. "Iz dat yue, pryveete, dun't ensulte mi, eye bin en da r-mee fer towelvh yearz." Yes, twelve years in the Army and still an E-5, something is wrong there...

The week after being caught at Burger King, Casey and a friend went AWOL when they were pulling CQ shift.

Two or three weeks later, Casey and his pal floated back to PTRP. Two hours past after there arrival, Casey was simply chaptered out. No Article 15s, No ass-kickings, no shenanigans, nothing. Just got his ass kicked out of PTRP and was given a set date to when he can legally go home, and that was that. On the other hand, his fellow friend got a field grade Article 15, and some penalties along with it.

What I find questioning is that Casey was just chaptered out, while his friend basically "got his ass kicked." I must say, Casey must have sucked some major knob to get out of punishment. Or maybe the SDS at PTRP just never wanted to see his face again. I heard the SDS was extremely happy when Casey ran way. Casey is (or was) charismatic. He managed to befriend with many at PTRP and to have people think that I'm a " ******" or a "lunatic" because I simply didn't agree with him. If Casey said someone in PTRP was a "Nazi Hitler-loving ************." Most of the people in PTRP will then say that someone is. If Casey jumped off a bridge and committed suicide, a few of these people in PTRP would just as well do that. Why? I guess is he a "cool dude!"

"New Year Eve 2003, my official last day in the United States Army. I find myself physically in an overcrowded room with many people inside. Physically and mentally can be a difference. I find myself playing the replay of the past I don't want to be played. But I guess I have no control of what my head wishes to display. So due to force, I'm going to see what things I wish not to see. Looking at replay of people I wish never to see or hear from for the rest of my life. I do not have the ******* controller to stop it and have it fast forward to the time being. I have no control."

One example of the batteries without power is when at my last week at PTRP, when I was going the first fireguard shift, when I was about to walk in the room where Casey was vacant in, I hear "that guy (me) is a ******* idiot." I walked in his room and said, "three fags here." I heard from Casey "one big ****** out there." I then said as I was walking out, "Yep, that'd be your mother." A few seconds later, "What the **** did you just say, you ************!?" It wasn't Casey, It was some other guy whose one of Caleb's big buddies, at that time, he then walked out of his room and trying to walk "like a gangstar..." (Nice job, for some "white muthafucka" walking on a nearly broken leg) and basically giving the resemblance of wanting to fight. I walk toward him and said, "why don't you get Casey's **** out of your mouth?" more of which, a remark resembling something along the lines of kissing someone's ass. He then said something along the lines of me being a homophobic person, as an insult. Then we were about to fight, but the PG at the time (who was my pal Robert [same name, he was also from Michigan]) with three other guys holding both of us back. Him and me shouted random insults while we were pushed away from each other. While he walked back into his room, I asked him "do I have to worry about getting killed later today?" When the guy and I were at F 1/19, without Casey around, he was basically nice or didn't really talk to me at all.

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Keyword: U.S. Army people Fellow Soilders perfectionists sadness drunk crazy Private

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Posted by bubbly 2008-06-28 10:34:24 lo it reads like a reminiscent work. + Report this comment

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