Die Zimtzicke's blog: "Simply simple random rants"

Marines come in all shapes, shades, weights, sizes, and states of
sobriety, misery, and confusion. He is sly as a fox, has the nerve
of a dope addict, the stories of an old sailor, the sincerity of apolitician, and the subtlty of Mt. Saint Helen. He is extremely
irresistible, totally irrational and completely indestructible.

A Marine is a Marine all his life. He is a magical creature. You
can kick him out of your house but not out of your heart. You can take him off your mailing list but not off your mind. Marines are found everywhere... in love...in battle... in lust... in trouble...in
debt...in bars and ... behind them. No one can write so seldom and yet think so much of you. No one else can get so much enjoyment out of a letter or clean clothes or a six pack.

A Marine is a genius with a deck of cards. A millionaire without a
cent and brave without a grain of sense. He is the PROTECTOR OF
AMERICA, When he wants something it's usually 30 days leave, music that hurts the ears, a five dollar bill...or a woman he can count on.

Girls love them, mothers tolerate them, fathers brag about them,
the government pays them, the police watch out for them and somehow they all work together.

You can beat their bodies but not their minds. You can tame their hearts but not their souls.

He likes girls, females, women, ladies, and the opposite sex.

He dislikes small checks, working weekends, answering letters, eating chow, waking up, maintaining a uniform, and the day before payday.

You may as well give in. He is your long distance lover...he is
your steel eyed, warm smiling, blank minded, hyperactive, over reacting, curious, passive, talented spontaneous, physically fit, good for nothing bundle of worry.....

And will always be there for you regardless of how long its been since you've last talked.

Well, I thought tonight would be the same, just as any other nights... Well, at 9 o'clock, I get a phone call from my friend Michelle... She went to a party, was gonna hook up with her usual booty call guy, well he was really drunk. He threw up on her, and so, she called me, needing me to pick her up. I'm just that way, if someone calls, and says "Megan, I need your help", I'm there. So, I get going, and I get to the house, it's full of people. I mean, come on, it's a Monday night for gods sake people. I'm looking through the house, and I see red plastic cups every where, like, 9 or 10 Frisbee being thrown through the house, and they are blaring Avril Lavigne. *shudders* Oh, There were also THOUSANDS of gummy bears, EVERYWHERE!  I mean, that place looked like an all out race war had come and gone betwixt the colors of gummies. WTF. Soooo, in my search to find Michelle, I go upstairs... I found her. The guy had stripped to his boxers, she in her bra.... and he's actually sucking gummy bears out of her vajay jay. Wow. So, of course, being the responsible and loving friend *read as 'mother figure'*, I walked back in, smacked him on the back of the head, and asked Michelle if she wanted to go home, of course, after he was done with her. lol. And she said, "Oh yea, I called you. Well, actually, we're not dirty now, so you can go find a guy to have fun with, we'll be done in a bit." I love my friend. I just laughed and waited downstairs, amidst the gummy massacre. She came down about 45 minutes later, she'd managed to find her pants, her underwear, but her shirt was gone. I had to give her my sweater. It still smells like gummy bears. I drove her home, got her in bed, told her mom that she's fine, just a bit buzzed, and to have her call me in the morning. Michelle's momma loves me. So, I just got home, it's 12:36 P.M. Oh, I also saw two cow elk coming home. Never during hunting season though.... But tonight? Fuck that noise, saw those VERY healthy cows. I think my little big brother would be pissed hahaha.

I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick. It even makes me rhyme. I hate it… I hate the way you’re always right. I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh; Even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you’re not around. And the fact that you didn’t call. But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you; Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

Make sure you read #13

Dear Civilians, 'We know that the current state of affairs in our great nation has many civilians up in arms and excited to join the military.

For those of you who can't join, you can still lend a hand. Here are a few of the areas where we would like your assistance:

1. The next time you see any adults talking (or wearing a hat) during the playing of the National Anthem - kick their ass.

2.. When you witness, firsthand, someone burning the American Flag in protest - kick their ass. 
 

4. If you were never in the military, DO NOT pretend that you were.  Wearing battle dress uniforms (BDUs) or Jungle Fatigues, telling others that you used to be 'Special Forces'. 
Collecting GI Joe memorabilia, might have been okay when you were seven years old, now, it will only make you look stupid and get your ass kicked.

5. Next time you come across an *Air Force* member, do not ask them, 'Do you fly a jet?' Not everyone in the Air Force is a pilot.  Such ignorance deserves an ass-kicking (children are exempt).

6. If you witness someone calling the *US Coast Guard* 'non-military', inform them of their mistake - and kick their ass.

7. Next time Old Glory (the US flag) prances by during a parade, get on your damn feet and pay homage to her by placing your hand over your heart. Quietly thank the military member or veteran lucky enough to be carrying her - of course, failure to do either of those could earn you a severe ass-kicking.

9. 'Your mama wears combat boots' never made sense to me - stop saying it!  If she did, she would most likely be a vet and therefore would kick your ass!

10. 'Flyboy' (*Air Force*), 'Jarhead' (*Marines*), 'Grunt' (*Army*), 'Squid' (*Navy*), 'Puddle Jumpers' (*Coast Guard*), etc., are terms of endearment we use describing each other.  Unless you are a service member or vet, you have not earned the right to use them. Using them could get your ass kicked..

11. Last, but not least, whether or not you become a member of the military, support our troops and their families. Every Thanksgiving and religious holiday that you enjoy with family and friends, please remember that there are literally thousands of soldiers, sailors, marines and airmen far from home wishing they could be with their families. Thank God for our military and the sacrifices they make every day. Without them, our Country would get it's ass kicked.

12. 'It's the Veteran, not the reporter, who has given us the freedom of the press.'

'It's the Veteran, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech.'

'It's the Veteran, not the community organizer, who gives us the freedom to demonstrate.'

'It's the Military who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protester to burn the flag.'

AND ONE MORE:

13. If you ever see anyone singing the national anthem in Spanish - KICK THEIR ASS.

ONE LAST THING:
If you got this email and didn't pass it on - guess what - you deserve to get your ass kicked!

I sent this to you, because I didn't want to get my ass kicked.

WE LIVE IN THE LAND OF THE FREE, ONLY BECAUSE OF THE BRAVE!

I would like to take this opportunity to apologize to two groups of Americans: our military veterans, and all senior citizens who are members of the World War II era, also known as The Greatest Generation. I want to apologize for myself and my generation not doing our part to be more like you. You sacrificed, took risks, did without, and delayed gratification of one sort or another for a cause greater than yourselves.

My generation and the rest of the American population has been rather cowardly when it comes to defending our liberties. Not that we have not had plenty volunteer for military service, because we have. Our cowardice has been in not standing up to our own government's weakness, deceit, and manipulation. You see, we have now endured several "wars" which have been pathetic, at best. Not the actions of our soldiers, but the actions of our government and the inaction of our citizens.

Most recently, by my count, we have been "at war" for nearly a decade. But honestly, we are not a nation "at war". We are not doing without. We are not stopping our lives to band together, uniting against a common enemy foreign or domestic, fighting to win at all costs, while demanding that our soldiers and citizens be kept out of harm's way unless absolutely necessary.

What have we sacrificed to get the ugly job done, whatever the goal is? Where is the sugar rationing? Where is the rubber shortage? Where is the shortage of workers when all available men have gone off to do difficult but necessary tasks? There is no Rosie the Riveter here. Instead, we are told to keep showing up at our cubicles each weekday, and at the malls on weekends. Keep shopping. Keep refinancing our mortgages. And keep watching the war on TV.

We are a rich nation of 300 million people, and we cannot win and end a war? We cannot catch, imprison, or kill our enemy once and for all? We cannot be done with ugly, tragic, and expensive actions and get on with being a kinder, gentler nation? If we were truly "at war", we could achieve this end in 1 day. What a ridiculous scam. And we fell for it, voted for it, sat by and watched it happen.

We lined up like patriotic lemmings with flags on our lapels and allowed groups of privileged men to orchestrate a never-ending series of wars, while most of them NEVER went to war, let alone served their country in uniform. We allowed them to repeatedly install, train, and fund villains that we trembled in fear of, like the boogie man under our bed. Red enemies, yellow enemies, and now anyone tan or with a turban on.

I am not a veteran, so I cannot speak as if I am any better than other non-veterans. But how ironic, that when these ChickenHawks had the opportunity to actually BE in one of those wars they so eagerly send our sons and daughters off to die in, they "had other priorities." Someone aspiring to be Commander-In-Chief chose to serve 4 years of a 6 year enlistment in a stateside National Guard unit, and somehow took a few years leave after that. Second in command claimed marriage as his out. One received seven deferments by teaching business school. Another used his religion's "study abroad" requirement to escape service. Yet another dodged the draft by enrolling in college acting classes. One had a terrible knee, but somehow was able to keep playing in the NFL for 8 more seasons. The cream of this crop had a cyst on his bottom that prevented him from heroic duty. And there are hundreds more.

As detestable as this is to me, I must say I am even more ashamed of our apathy in not defending our own soldiers and citizens from harm. We sit idly by and allow paper warriors to wrap themselves in our sacred flag, shouting out like bullhorns and rattling the sabers of vengeance. We send soldiers into "wars" without enough armor, no clear and definable goal, and no national courage to actually use our might to bring the war to a quick and absolute end. We give up some liberties for our common security, only to allow it to be used to snoop on political enemies. Elderly widows are frisked at the airport to show how serious we are about "homeland security", while the majority of cargo luggage, out of public view, skates through unexamined. We buy the sham, and keep buying those luxury goods and services. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Those who stand up and call the charlatans to the carpet are questioned as unpatriotic. Why is that? Why is it that the folks fighting AGAINST wars and the folks FIGHTING wars are divided? Why are those who protest wars, and those with loved ones carelessly tossed to the dogs of war, are shouting at each other from opposite sides of the street? Why are they not on the same side, there is plenty of room on that curb. We could use a few more radicals at Support The Troops rallies, and a few more moms of soldiers at war protests. Why do we so easily succumb to the "divide and conquer" wedges of class, race, and religion?

Our voluntary duping, apathy, and lemming-like acquiescence to this manipulation is something I have not done my part to rail against, either. I have been too busy consuming, getting, living it up. Certainly not sacrificing. It is embarrassing. Shameful. For that, Greatest Generation and all American veterans, you have my sincere apology. I should have been protecting and looking out for you the way you have protected me. I am relieved that my father and his father are not alive to see this dereliction of civic duty and sorry state of affairs. I am just sorry we did not wait until the rest of The Greatest Generation had passed on, before falling so short of their example.

First they came for the communists, and I did not speak out--
because I was not a communist;
Then they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out--
because I was not a socialist;
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out--
because I was not a trade unionist;
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out--
because I was not a Jew;
Then they came for me--
and there was no one left to speak out for me.
- Martin Niemoeller, 1946

Dear ex-husband...I would like to clear up some of the lies and mis-information you have been feeding people since you have discovered Facebook and attended your recent high school reunion:

1) I did not "cheat on you" and cause the breakup of our marriage. We had been separated for the better part of a year, and I had already filed divorce papers. Even before we were separated, we had sex MAYBE once or twice a month for 3 years (BAD sex at that). I did "have an itch", as I have seen you put it, and since you weren't scratching it, I called up my old fuck-buddy and he took care of business. BTW, he had no problem at all cumming from oral...so fuck you for making me think it was my problem when it was clearly yours.

2) Thank you for blaming all your social shortcomings on me. You have told multiple people that I never wanted to hang out with any of your friends, and that's why you had lost contact with them over the years. Bullshit. You are just cheap and no fun. If it involved travel, money, or staying out past 7:00pm, then you weren't interested. You also didn't like having people over to our house because we would have to feed them (which costs money) and most of them have kids (which you hate...funny, you're a TEACHER).

3) You told one ex-girlfriend that after we got married, I "turned into Martha Stewart". Yes, asking you to pick up your own dirty clothes, Diet Pepsi cans, and bath towels and put them in their proper places was TOTALLY batshit crazy of me. How dare I want to live in a semi-respectable home and not a trash heap.

4) I will let you continue to tell people I am remarried to "some geek I met on the internet", as that is completely true. However, you should also tell them that he is goddamn AMAZING in bed. Just this morning I woke up to him gently massaging my ass; before I knew it he was pulling my hair as I was gagging on his fat cock. You can fill in the blanks as to what happened next...oh wait, no you can't, because all you know how to do is a couple thrusts in the missionary position before your tiny, weird-looking little penis dribbles out its contents. And for the love of God (since you can't seem to figure it out on your own OR from my guidance), watch some porn and learn how to locate the clitoris.

5) Go ahead and crow to everyone how you "got to keep the house". Just so we're clear, I LET you keep the house, and I better not find out that I'm still on the mortgage. You were supposed to take care of that 8 weeks after our divorce was finalized. I let you slide last year when I found out I was still on there and gave you extra time to take care of it (even though it should have been done in 2006). If I'm still on that loan, then I'm calling my lawyer.

6) You have conveniently neglected to tell all of these people that you are gay. You can keep telling yourself that you're straight, but anyone who likes to let men suck his dick AND reciprocates is, in fact, homosexual. Thanks for letting me find out that little tidbit after we got married instead of before, cocksucker. And don't EVEN try to say you're bi, because you made it evident to me over the years that you hate tits and vagina. I love me some gay men, but I didn't want to be married to one.

7) You mentioned that I hated spending time with your family...completely true. They were weird as hell, and still are for all I know.

So I guess that ends my rant. If you want to tell your friends anything else about me, then tell them I'm very happy with my internet-geek husband and new, normal, sane in-laws. Just so you know, this is the only place I have talked trash about you since our divorce. If telling people all that shit about me makes you feel better, then more power to you. I just better be off that mortgage, or else you will have some really good stories to tell.

P.S.-change your passwords, stupid.

I was the white guy with the black Burberry jacket that you demanded I hand over shortly after you pulled the knife on me and my girlfriend. You also asked for my girlfriend's purse and earrings. I hope you somehow come across this message. I'd like to apologize.

I didn't expect you to crap your pants when I drew my pistol after you took my jacket. Truth is, I was wearing the jacket for a reason that evening, and it wasn't that cold outside. You see, my girlfriend had just bought me that Kimber 1911 .45 ACP pistol for Christmas, and we had just picked up a shoulder holster for it that evening. Beautiful pistol, eh? It's a very intimidating weapon when pointed at your head, isn't it?

I know it probably wasn't a great deal of fun walking back to wherever you'd come from with that brown sludge flopping about in your pants. I'm sure it was even worse since you also ended up leaving your shoes, cellphone, and wallet with me. I couldn't have you calling up any of your buddies to come help you try to mug us again. I took the liberty of calling your mother, or "Momma" as you had her listed in your cell, and explaining to her your situation. I also bought myself some gas on your card. I gave your shoes to one of the home less guys over by Vinnie Van Go Go's, along with all of the cash in your wallet, then I threw the wallet itself in a dumpster.

I called a bunch of phone sex numbers from your cell. They'll be on your bill in case you'd like to know which ones. Alltel recently shut down the line, and I've only had the phone for a little over a day now, so I don't know what's going on with that. I hope they haven't permanently cut off your service. I was about to make some threatening phone calls to the DA's office with it. Oh well.

So, about your pants. I know that I was a little rough on you when you did this whole attempted mugging thing, so I'd like to make it up to you. I'm sure you've already washed your pants, so I'd like to help you out. I'd like to reimburse you for the detergent you used on the pants. What brand did you use, and was it liquid or powder? I'd also like to apologize for not killing you and instead making you walk back home humiliated. I'm hoping that you'll reconsider your choice of path in life. Next time you might not be so lucky. If you read this message, email me and we'll do lunch and laundry. Peace!

- Alex