another hash mark on the sleeve of indignity.

it was some kind of holiday. i don't remember exactly what it was, but it was around september 2008. for some reason i had a 96 hour pass. in english, that means i had four days off to do whatever the fuck i wanted, and didn't have to go back to base for any reason. the only problem was that it was wednesday night, but the actual holiday wasn't until friday. thus, it was just a normal weekday night. i usually stayed with my parents on long weekends, since it was free and they liked it when i came home to visit. i also usually frequented a bar about three blocks away from their house, but i didn't feel like going there that night.

i decided to head up to main street in seal beach instead. they have some cool "irish" "pubs" over there, where i can go when i'm feeling low key and not wanting to be recognized from high school. i walked into one of them and sat down. i saw a few surfer bro's playing pool, some chicks talking by the bar, and a particularly douchy looking bartender.

immediately i noticed the two girls by the bar. one of them was the type i like to call the "softball player." the kind of girl that, even if she was at a wedding wearing a dress, she'd still be wearing a hooded sweatshirt, kneepads, and have her hair tied back in a ponytail like she was going to don a helmet at any moment. the other girl looked like she might have been a transsexual. her face was proportioned like a man's. she had a strong jaw and a heroic nose. she also had the most enourmous breasts i'd ever seen. it looked like the doctor had implanted two overinflated basketballs into her chest. if i wasn't a complete pervert it would have been disgusting.

anyway, i looked around and noticed there was a sign hung on the wall by the hallway which led to the restroom. the sign said "we love our sailors." there is a naval base somewhere in the vicinity of that area. i asked the bartender for a marker, and wrote "we love Marines more." he laughed and poured me another jack and coke, and asked the usual questions.

i eventually worked my way into conversation with the two girls by the bar. they went outside to smoke, and i followed, though unimpressed by whatever stupid conversation they were having. that was when i noticed their friend, however. she was about five foot three, but had tall heels on that made her about five foot five. she had on some really tight jeans that really outlined her frame well. she also wore a leopard print jacket, and a faux fedora with a zebra scarf around it. she had long black hair, with bangs that were a little too shaggy so you couldn't really see her eyes.

i don't know how it happened, but i let the alcohol work its magic and within five minutes we were holding hands. i think her friends were mad. the huge breasted transvestite was trying to tell me that golf balls had a bouncy ball in the middle, and you could get it out if you used a saw to cut the golf ball open.

i didn't care.

the girl in leopard print turned out to be indian. she was by far the cutest hindu i've ever seen. we got a cheap motel in long beach and spent the night there. we fucked. it was nothing special; and her pussy kind of smelled. i was disappointed. she had a great body, too, but that was just a major turnoff. oh well.

i never called her again. i'll probably run into her in a few years, and have an awkward conversation.

i hate seal beach.

i lost my soul in east berlin.

this run down cathedral made glorious in the right lighting. it reaches out with gnarled hands to climb the social graces of the block it occupies. whithered and weatherbeaten, she paints her stained glass every morning. silently hoping she can find her god so the wrecking crews will not let fly their hammers. kneeling to pray, the inhabitants have fallen, one by one succumbing to the choir that lured them in. but in this light, a new coat of paint gives a heavenly glow to the one evil heart trapped inside these crumbling city walls. and so the darkness grows. forever trapped in a cycle that never leaves alone but is never quite completed therefore lacking in the one purpose it was given. closing a non functioning transaction on an empty account. we forged this name in blood. i gave it life and i saved mortals from themselves, but cathedrals only gave it a purpose to be believed. cutting throats with a stolen identity. stealing the charity money. this run down cathedral made true in the darkest early morning hours. looking for god but only to feed her own vicious vices. plank by plank we sent her home.

this is not a memoir.

so everyone is on Christmas leave. i didn't take Christmas leave for two reasons: my parents live little more than an hour away from camp pendleton, so it's not like i need to take a vacation to go home. secondly, i'm leaving for okinawa in january, so i figured i'd save my leave days for when i'm there and actually need them. albeit, once i get to okinawa it's going to be an endless barrage of deployments to afghanistan, the phlippines, and everywhere else that lies in the vicinity of the goddamn asian continent, but hey, it's still nice to know that those 2.5 days a month could come in handy. [as i write this i am finding a frustrating problem in that my D key is fucking up, and also my thumb keeps hitting the goddamned mousepad and putting the cursor somewhere else.]

i digress.

everyone is gone, and the barracks are strangely quiet. there is no loud, annoying thumping rap music coming from the second deck, no drunken revelry in the barbeque pit. just me in my cold room with no heater, still in cammies and half way through my fourth beer. pathetic, right? hah, whatever, i'm cool enough to drink by myself and enjoy it. i have the activity pit, twitter, facebook, and FOX news to keep me company. kind of. fuck it, it just irks me that i had to come in today and tomorrow for a half day before i can just go on my 96 hour Christmas liberty... if i'm going to sit around and drink, i could at least do it from a barstool.

it's almost time for redeye.

introductions - i have come to corrupt your blogosphere.

and lo, there was a pang in the blogosphere, and as it convulsed to spew forth the ramblings presented here, this page was born unto ye, that whoever may read these words may walk away confused and somewhat nauseated.

anyway, i doubt anyone will ever read this, but i decided to start this blog for a couple of different reasons. for the most part, i started it because i've drifted away from writing. i used to blog all the time back in the days of livejournal, before it was called "blogging." i used to write for a newspaper in college, and i actually had time to sit, think, read, and learn. being a Marine, i feel like i've grown away from that, and i wanted to get back in touch with it. other than that, i just wanted a place to rant about stuff, whether it's the menial bullshit that takes place in my life on a daily basis, or a news article, or even to write some nonsensical prose which i use to do so often.

now that you know why i started this fucking masterpiece, i guess you might want to know about the idiot behind the keyboard. or maybe not, but fuck you, i'm the one writing. my name isn't really jack. jack is a badass name and i wish people would call me that, but i'm stuck with the terminal 1980's cliche monicker, kevin. i stole my user name from the song "a jack with one eye" by the band Texas is the Reason. i played a show with them once in high school, in one of my early bands. [i've been in like 329847938247 bands.] i used to go to cal state long beach where i was studying broadcast journalism, but i fucked around too much and dropped out. [there's a cool story about the band i was in at this time, but i doubt anyone really cares about past misadventures and where i grew up and all that buttfuckery. ] anyway, an ex fiancee and a few months in germany later [again, another time, another story] i wound up back in my stomping grounds of california with long hair, no guitar, and no job. and that leads to now. i've been in the Marine Corps for a little over four years. i'm a sergeant, which is the upper echelon of the junior enlisted [in civilianese that means i'm a small unit leader]. i used to be a radio operator; the guy that carries the radio out on patrols. which sucks because the tall ass antenna that goes to the radio turns out to be a HUGE clue to enemy combatants as to exactly where i'm standing. i still have three years left before i get out, but i'm working on finishing my degree in broadcast journalism. i love FOX news, and hope to god i can work my way to getting a job there once i'm done in the military. i'm obsessed with the show Redeye w/ Greg Gutfeld which i was recently introduced to a few months ago. i'll probably talk about myself more later, but if i'm feeling this nauseated reading it, i can't imagine how you must feel.

well, this blog post is a metric ass-ton of useless bullshit. i'll probably post again, for it is boring and quiet in the barracks tonight...