Outside the wire.

Today was Mahi-Mahi's first time outside the wire. I could look at him and I could tell that he was nervous. I mean I've been outside the wire several times and it is an unexplainable feeling of apprehension. I just looked at him, he is out here trying to stack up some chips for his wedding. Any rational man will ask himself is this really worth it.

I think the most surreal moment is when everyone around you goes to condition one. That is probably the only time I wish I had a weapon. Well in general I wish I had a weapon outside the wire, not that I need it for what I do. But, I know that the Marines have a different mentality when we get to the wire. I mean at least loading a weapon gives you something to do.

The thing that is funny is that he looked like I probably did the first time I crossed the wire. It was a real passing of the baton moment for me. Now it was time for me to be there for someone else and give them the impression that everything is ok and going directly into a warzone is ok. He is ex-Army and did some time in Bosnia. But, nothing can prepare you for the unexpected. When you leave the wire you realize that you have no control over your life. It is a sickening feeling if you take time to think about it. That said, I don't.

The ride didn't take all that long but, I could tell for Mahi-Mahi that it was the longest drive of his life. I could see it in his face and I had to act like we were going to the gas station to get some candy. I try and plan our outings so that we can get back behind the wire before dusk. Dusk is when it get's the most dangerous.

I don't know what it takes to be someone who goes outside the wire daily and has to make that trip everyday. I don't think my mind is built for that kind of stress. One thing I can say is that it has taken it's toll. Almost every young guy I know out here has grey hairs. I mean 22 and 23 year olds with grey hair. I've said it before and I'll say it again. America eats its young.

This is Tommie - Dad School.

Dad school.


Some people are private schooled, some public, and some home schooled. We were public and home schooled. If we were on section 2.1 in math class we were on section 3.2 at Dad school. We had to read the dictionary and tell our Dad what words we learned when he got home. I learned a lot about the world from the dictionary, I learned about the basic mechanics of sex from the dictionary. Heck, when I was in the 3rd grade I knew what fellatio and cunnilingus meant. I didn’t know how to do it or nor did I know the vulgar terms for them until later. It was funny I think I heard the term blow job or deep throat when I was in the 5th grade I’m listening to these kids and they were giggling at some smut book someone snuck from home. So I go over there and I ask what is a blowjob, and like all kids they were like you don’t know what a blowjob is? Well it’s when a girl goes down on a boy and kisses his pee-pee.

I looked at them and said you mean fellatio? That was a real deer in the headlights moment. Still reading about it a dictionary is WAY different than seeing. After you see it for the first time it’s a blowjob not fellatio.

Well one thing about Dad School is that my Dad rules his school with an iron fist. Literally, when Dad sat you down for class that was probably the most stressful part of your day. In my house in regular school there were three grades A, B, and F. At Dad school there was A and F that was it. If you got it wrong my Dad would slam his fist on the table like a crazed madman. I really think he needed some anger management classes but they didn’t exist then.

“What is the square root of 256 Tommie?”

“128?”

BAM!

NO, HOW MANY TIMES DO WE HAVE TO GO OVER THIS TOMMIE?

“Uhh…64?”

BAM! BAM!

“TOMMIE WE HAVE BEEN WORKING ON THIS ALL NIGHT YOU ARE NOT STUPID. NOW AGAIN!”

“Uhhh…16?”

“You asking or you telling?”

“Telling?”
“Well sound like it then.”

“16.”

“See I told you, you could do it.”

Man, you used to hate it when Dad wanted to help you with your homework because it would be hours of table slamming. Or even worse, when your report card showed up and your marks weren’t up to snuff. Dad would help you with your homework every night from the day you got the Report card till the time the next report card. That could be up to 6 weeks of non-stop table slamming.

When I was a kid my Dad scared the holy hell out of me. Heck I did everything I could to stay out of Dad school. Hell, even as an adult he can still be a pretty scary guy. All my friends are like your Dad is so cool and funny and calm. My brother and I are like don’t believe the hype. The man is an insane education Nazi. He is just acting because you are here. When you are gone he is going to go crazy again and start spelling and ranting off random equations. He’s holding it in right now.

Dad school also had a manners and rules component that we had. My Dad would never just out and out spank you for no reason. He would always sit you down calmly and then we would have a discussion about what you did and if you thought it was wrong and if you didn’t think it was wrong we would go over why it was wrong. Nothing happened in my house without a reason. Well my Dad was a “craftsman” and he crafted this paddle out of a 2x4 called the “Board of Discipline” it looked one of those vanilla ice creams on a stick dipped in chocolate with holes drilled in the paddle so it would whistle when he swung it. So after this tender father/son moment where we would discuss the merits of honesty he would tell you now go get the Board of Discipline and hurry up. Man that was the real trail of tears. I know some of you may be appalled by the idea of a paddling but that was before the days when CPS got involved. If you were ballsy enough to tell your folks you would call 911 on them (hell 911 was new when I was a kid) they would dial 91 and dare you to press the 1. My Dad would say call them and when they get here I’m going to cut their butts and then yours.

When I turned 13 my Dad gave me the Board of Discipline as a present and let me cut it up with a hacksaw. My brother and I took turns cutting it up. It was the best birthday present ever.

I’ve been talking to my brother while I’ve been writing this and he said something to me that made so much sense. He said, “I guess that's why we are so good at taking shit from bosses because Dad was always in our face at any second. As a grown man my biggest relief is that I do not get a report card anymore...”

Amen to that Brother.

I mean we were terrified to get our grades to get sent home if we knew they weren’t going to cut it. Even while we were in college. Any sane person couldn’t do a whole summer with that madman. But, my brother and I were close and we developed a plan to outsmart him. At the end of the semester (or quarter) we would be calling each other to see who would get home first. It would always be like, “Hey, Man when you getting home? On the 23rd? Cool, listen my grades should be showing up on the 4th or 5th I need you to check the mail. Naw, Dad can’t see them. What to do with them? The fuck you think man? Same thing we always do send it to the shredder.”

At the end of the day I think my Dad’s plan worked. My brother and have I stayed out for the poorhouse and the jailhouse. I guess it’s true what they say most geniuses are mentally unstable.

This is Tommie - Church.

As I’ve said before Church and I have a live and let live relationship. For most people I think faith is as a matter of tradition more than spiritual enlightenment. Let’s say you a Christian and as a Christian you believe 100% that Jesus died for our sins and that the only way to heaven is accepting him as your Lord and savior. Do you think you would find Jesus if you were born and raised in Qatar? It’s rhetorical.

Our parents wanted us to go to Church and become well rounded. I think that was one of the best things they did for us. Even though I’m agnostic and I’m pretty sure my brother is as well. At least we were given the chance to experience Church. If I ever have kids I plan on doing the same thing. I don’t want to force my worldview on them that’s not how things should work. If my kids take to Church and really get a lot out of it. I’d be there everyday of the week.

When we used to go to Church we would sit there and listen to the sermon and then when we got home sometimes my Dad would ask us what we thought about the sermon. This wasn’t so much to see if we were listening but, more to see what we thought, to get us to ask questions and not accept what is told just because it was told.

As any good Catholic knows questioning the Church isn’t a good thing and me not questioning something is a bad thing. My parents realized that Church my not be the best outlet for my talents and made sure that my brother and I stayed quiet. I mean in reality I know it’s only respectful. Questioning someone in School is different than doing it in Church, it weird but somehow I understood that. That doesn’t mean we weren’t prone to some slippage.

This is one of the funniest things ever to happen in life. At Church they had some thing like Children’s time and every kid younger than 11 had to go to the front, they would have some storyteller with a mic so everyone in the Church could hear. Man, I was so happy to turn 12. Well it was one of the first times I didn’t have to go to the front and my brother had to go both sets of my grandparents where there and a whole lot of family so it was a big event. I think he was in the 3rd grade or something like that, he was mad because he still had to go and Tommie didn’t. Oh well, sucked to be you get older, sucker!

Well this lady was telling some “God is happy when children behave so be good so God doesn’t condemn your little heathen ass to hell for eternity” story and at the end of the story she asked a question “About what is God thinking right now”. It was a gimmie what the answer was he is happy because we are being obedient little kids in Church. However, she asked the wrong kid, on the wrong day. She asked my brother and what was his answer. He grabbed the mic and said as plain as day, “I have no EARTHLY idea what God is thinking right now.”

Oh classic that was 80’s style ownage. My parents were so embarrassed my Granddaddy Freddie thought it was the funniest thing in the world. I thought it was pretty funny too but, my Mom gave me the evil eye and that quickly shut me up. But, that is the way we thought.

Church was my first interaction with Black kids and they could have kept it. At least in school they force you to play with one another. At Church I think my brother and I had the cancer or the pox or something because as soon as we moved close to the kids in our age group they would move to another side of the Church. Well it didn’t take me long to realize that they didn’t want to be bothered with us. No biggie, I didn’t really want to be bothered with them heck if my folks gave up on this Church charade then we all would be better off for it. But, they were trying to force the Black experience on us. They just found the wrong group of Blacks. After awhile my parents gave up on the Church thing they could tell that we were unhappy with going and we had a difficult enough time at school why double the torment.

Remember, unless you find the body, it's not dead

I thought this was something only main villians said to their henchmen, but it is true. I've been engaged in a fight to the death with this fly for over a day. I believe the fly's dark lord has imbued it with a higher than normal intelligence. On top of the standard abilities to attack the eyes, nose, ears, and mouth of its intended target this fly knows to fly low and stay near the target pretty much exploiting the sole weakness of my superior defense system. I need a line of sight and distance to be effective. This fly will fly near my body and will only make itself known right before it attacks my eyes and of course I can't smash it in my eyes. I'm forced to reposition myself and of course the fly, being a master of Iraqi insurgent tactics, finds a place to hide and just waits for another chance to strike.

This fly has repeated this process too many times for this to be a mere coincidence. This is a concentrated effort the skills of which this fly could have only gained by attending a fly terrorist camp. Of course this has resulted in me going on a hunt to track and kill this fly. I was armed with April 2005 Car and Driver magazine that gave me the width and additional reach to eliminate my prey. Hmmm...prey is not the correct word; prey assumes that I have an advantage versus the fly. I don't. We will call the fly my opponent.

I have hit my opponent 6 times by my count and each time it looked as if I had a solid strike. Locked and loaded with my C&D-Apr2005 I have spiked my opponent like volleyball and I have seen it strike the wall. In the states this would result in an insta-kill. Not so here, aside from the harsh environment the deal the class Hexapoda has made with Satan provides them with unholy endurance, stamina, and durability. Each time I thought it dead, and each time I have found myself again assaulted at my eyeballs.

This post looks contiguous but each break is where I have had to leave the computer and engage in battle. This time I emerge victorious. In the final battle my opponent darted at my ears and eyes confusing me, making me unable to focus, as a result I swung wildly at my opponent's phantom trails. I was on the verge of defeat when my opponent suddenly broke off its attack and then I saw how it was able to move so stealthily. My opponent was flying no more than 6 inches off the ground. I mean how, brilliant was that. Had it not given me that second I would have never known. After that it was only a matter of time. I continued to track it for about 2 minutes. I wanted it to be at ease with its surroundings. I crept up behind it and it must have noticed my shadow because it paused for a second. But it was that second that gave me the advantage. I barreled down on it as hard as I could. It began to take flight. It was faster than I anticipated. I ended up only getting a piece of my opponent. It was just good enough, the pressure wave that followed my mighty swing disoriented my opponent and he came crashing to the ground. I gave him no quarter. I instantly moved to step on it with my right foot. The fly, realizing the futility of further resistance bowed before me as to say; "Well played human, well played." the last thing it saw was the imprint of my size 10½ shoes.

This is Tommie - Sports.

The only time that kids wanted to be my friend was during sports or PE. I was fast I was always the fastest kid in school and my brother was second. I remember when we lived in St. Louis my Dad would take me down to the Gateway Arch and near it there was this promenade and there were a bunch of kids there. In hindsight I think it was some sort of underground kid racing racket. He would let me race against the other kids around and they were all from the inner city but, I'd beat them all. Except this one kid, he would always beat me by a nose. I could never beat him, my Dad used to laugh when we would go home I think he was proud of the fact that I kept trying. I don't know, I just know that kid kept beating me and I was mad. I never beat him.

In school the kids loved me when I was on their kickball team or basketball team or whatever. I think the one thing I got out of that today is that I don’t care for people that live their lives via ESPN. Those people wouldn't give a shit about the Black Men if they weren't shooting their balls or running their yards. That's why I was glad that basketball player Rot Artest jumped into the stands and beat the shit out of that fan. Those people are the same people that didn't want to be my friend until they wanted to win their games. My Dad picked up on that and he didn't want me playing sports. He didn't want me to be their Sambo.

-Time Out-

I think this is a great time to explain to my friends that are not of the Black American ethnicity (Africans don’t count) what we call hood rules. Hood rules are basically the Violent Holy Wrath of Murphy’s Law. The thing about Hood Rules is that its application is totally random and can jump off at anytime. The only way you and I can hope to avoid it is PCS: Practice Common Sense.

Let’s take the example of the hapless simp that got pummeled by Artest. Now then those of you that don’t know the application of Hood Rules sit back and say, “Well he hit the wrong guy he should have hit the guy threw the beer on him.”

Fuck that! Hood rules bitch! Guess the fuck what? If he didn’t want to get hit he should have been doing a little less laughing and a little more pointing. Hood rules state that when it going down both you and your man are going to get it. Because he didn’t PCS he is got his shit pushed in on national TV.




Now then how could he have avoided that situation? PCS, would you laugh at a 6’ 12” Magilla Gorilla looking nigga at the club if someone threw something at him? Fuck no, what you have done at the club is shut the fuck up and move out of the fucking way.

Same thing here don’t let the environment lull you into thinking you are safe. Hood rules can go into effect anywhere at anytime. PCS can help you so use it. In my stories you will see several events where Hood Rules come into play.

-Time In-

The one time I that I was mad that he pulled me was when we lived in Okalahoma. I was on the track team and there I was the fastest on the team. I was on my way to being a star. I think the coach had plans of making me his main stud. The one problem I had was that I was failing Spanish. The way I saw it I didn't need it anyway. Everyone around me speaks American and it's not like I'd ever live anywhere where I'd actually need to use it.

The coach was more than willing to "take care" of my problems in Spanish, but my parents weren't having any of that. My Dad came up to track practice and pulled me in the middle of practice. That was my last time in any sports. I still think we would have been rich and famous had he let me run track. Oh well, I'm still going to be rich and famous just a different route.


- This post is spliced approved.

The circle is complete, the student has now become the master.

This place is weird you don't want to bond with people because you all are on different schedules and people come and go. Also I like to stay emotionally detached from my co-workers just works out better professionally plus this is a real here one moment, gone the next. I've been blessed that the people around me have been safe and guys like Winter, and Ricky Schroeder made it home safe and sound. Conversely, you do bond with people here faster here than you would at home because you don't have a choice. We are all working together for our mutual survival. So you are close but still distant.

Well, I just dropped off Shen Long at the LZ, he is on his way home in the near future and this is the last time I'll see him in theater. It's quite a strange feeling, he has been a mentor and a father figure of sorts while I've been out here and I've often deferred to him in many issues. So my crutch is gone.

But, at the same time that is a good thing. He and I have been at odds for the better part two months. The details of which aren't important let's just say we have different outlook on how things should be done. He is what one would think of as a typical Engineer. He has all the technical skills you could ask for but socially he is a bit awkward for my taste. It's nothing that he does directly it's just the way he is. You ever meet someone who has a personality trait that you can't fucking stand but, it's not something that they are not even aware they are doing so you can't really hold it against them? That Shen.

Me on the other hand, I’m not the sharpest stick in the bunch but, I can figure it out and on top of that I'm empathic. I am someone that can wade through bullshit to see what people are really thinking. I'm more social; I'm smart enough to know that the average Marine doesn't want a lecture of the OSI model (Application, Presentation, Session, Transport, Network, Data Link, and Physical I mean duh, WHO doesn't know that?) they just want to know if you can get the kill button working again. I depend more on the network and he depends more on his technical expertise.

Plus there have been times where he attacked my integrity and that is a major no-no. The Captian and Ken have both had to really play ref in some situations. With Ken gone it's been a bit harder to stand down.

At any rate his style and mine have clashed for a while.

Even with that hell, he represented the familiar and the stable. It was like living in an abusive house. There was a lot of yelling at home but fuck, at least you had a home. So there is a part of me that is glad he is gone because I know a lot of his stress was caused by being in a war zone and if anyone needed to get the hell out he topped my list. He was suffering from shellshock, plus I can run my show. But, there is another part that is a little bit sad. I mean everyone needs a battle buddy.

The only thing consistent is change.

Mom, Dad, Grandma, and Grandpa back from vacation

Well as you all know I sent my folks on a mini-vacation here is the trip report from Mommy Hu$tle. Enjoy


--
Tommie,

I am at work today. I just want to tell you that we had the best time and I thank you so very much. Your grandparents were like two little children who were seeing things they had never seen before and your Granddaddy wants to come back next year to visit you.

The trip was exciting for start to end. The airport was a breeze in Atlanta, we even checked in and got our boarding passes without your dad being present.

When we got to Vegas we took a taxi van and we were dropped off at the Paris valet. The bellman took our luggage to the room. When we stepped we were in the center of the casino bells and whistles of the winners were going off. Once we got out of the casino the lobby was dripping with pure elegance, chandeliers, rich silks and satins. The check-in was a snap with the chasseurs were very nice. She told us that she was putting us in the Parlor Suite on 30th floor. We took the elevator up and were looking for the room down the hallway when your dad spotted the door to the room in the center of the atrium.

Behind those large Parisian French doors was an 800 sq. ft room with the most expensive furniture, two large beds, an armoire chest with the television sitting in the middle of the floor. The TV was on a revolving platform that you could move from living room to bedroom. We had a wet bar with a liquor wine cabinet, refrigerator lots of flowers two large bathrooms one with a Jacuzzi and the other with a steam room shower.

But most impressive of all we had the view on 30th floor you could see the entire city of Vegas and beyond at night all you can say is aaaah.

The Grand Tour to The Hoover Dam, Lake Mead and the Grand Canyon was excellent. When we returned to the Hotel the all you can eat buffet was the bomb if I am allowed to say that, yum, yum from the lobster to the steak and all things between.

When we prepared to leave the bellman delivered our luggage and got us a cab, which cost us $10.00.

Then we got to Phoenix got a rental car and took off to your place. We made a wrong turn but corrected it right away. Your home is so lovely and it makes you feel like you are on a vacation, everything around your home the community is so clean and beautiful when we decide to change homes I would like to have a floor plan like yours.

The ponds are great and the ducks on the pond are really nice to look at it makes you slow down and the catnaps just comes. Your Dad went back to work on yesterday and he called me and thanked me for making him go because he said he really had a relaxing time and that he truly needed the get-a-way.

Dinner with our family friends was really good. The lady of the house is a good cook and a nice hostess. Her Sister was fun and her nieces were very nice. I picture the entire family as intellectual people. The Man of the house and your Dad both like 24. Your Dad said he and the Man of the house could be good friends because of the same movies and books.

Our family friends had a big black dog, he scared your Grandmother and she remained frighten until we left, we would have stayed longer but I could tell Grandma was a little uncomfortable. However once being there I realized the dog was harmless at least the big one. The little one was the one to watch.

Oh! at the airport we were pulled from the line, they said someone in the traveling party was a security risk. One of the skycaps told us that who ever it was would be in the FBI list for life unless we did something to remove our name so I tell you this just in case you might get tied up with the name since you are in Iraq.

Your Granddaddy told us after we got back home that he had a knife in his suit case and he traveled back and forth with that knife without telling us. I told him he but us all at risk of ruining our vacation and even wrote them a letter telling them no knives, sharp finger nail filer, brass knucks, mase, bullets or guns.

We love you Tommie and your text message made your Dad and I tear up at the airport, tears of joy. So everything you did when you were growing up that was bad you made up with the vacation.

Also your Dad said you cannot spend any more of your money like you did on this trip for us what you have done he said will last him a lifetime.

Again, thank you and your grandparents couldn't stop saying thank you so from them to you Thank You very much.

I love you

P.S. It took me this long to get this message to you I had a meeting and at least 12 people have interrupted me while I was trying to send this message to you.
--

Guess what Mom, I love you too.

You know it's funny, my folks are talking like this was a lot of money but for what they did it was really a cheap trip. I mean the money as far as that was concerned had no value to me. I just wanted my folks to have a good time. Them having a good time without stressing over this and that was what had value the way I see it.

I know I was calling them or texting them all the time checking to see if they made it in or if they were ok or if they needed anything. I mean for me it was really important that everything when off without a hitch. They spent my whole life taking care of me I wanted to do the same for once.

P.S. Yes, Mom you can use the word bomb. I pefer the word shizzle but, for you bomb will work just fine.

P.P.S Dad can't tell me what to do anymore.

This is Tommie - My teachers.

My teachers hated me too, basically because I was uppity, my Dad never wanted us to use the phrases Yes, Sir or Yes, Ma’am. He saw those phases as terms of subservience. His children would be subservient to no one, my Dad was like an deep cover black panther or something, it’s like they recruited him to infiltrate the Man’s inner sanctum. We were trained to only answer with yes or no. There were a lot of times where teachers (mostly in the South) would sit there and try and force me to say Yes Ma’am. It was ridiculous, this lady could totally blow it off and spend her time enriching the minds of 19 other children but she would rather spend half her day trying to break me down.

I think this is partly where I get my ego from I was always going at it with adults for one reason or another and their reasons were always stupid. So I spent most of my early school age (4th to 8th grade) years defending myself against adults.

I think what my teachers hated the most is that I was right and I had no problems letting them know that I was right and that they were wrong. Generally this correction would happen in some sort of public display. See at home I could talk to my parents as “equals” so if I thought something was incorrect I could say, hey I don’t think this is right and then we would have a discussion about the situation. It wasn’t so much about me being right or wrong but my parents found critical thought important. Me being a naïve little kid thought everyone valued critical thought. Well, not so.

I remember one time while my 5th grade teacher is railing on me about this Yes, Ma’am/No, Ma’am bullshit and I’m in the back of my mind thinking isn’t this math time? I mean how foolish do you look when you at 35+ years old and you are getting into it with an 11 year old? I’d get sent to the office and the principle would call my Mom and tell her that I was being disrespectful in class. My Mom would have to come to the school and get in the Principle’s face and tell him straight up that I was not to say yes Ma’am or Sir to anyone. I’d always walk off with an “I told you that I didn’t have to do It.” smile. Even today when I say yes Ma’am or Sir it’s more of a sign of disrespect or humor (it’s a big inside joke) to me than it is a sign of respect. The funny thing about the South is that they put a big emphasis on respect but are the least respectful and least tolerant people I know.

On top of that I was smart. I knew things and I picked up things faster than the rest of the class. My teachers bored me. They were still trying to teach people how to fucking read and I've already read the whole book. People always told me I was good in history class, it wasn't that I was good it's just they were slow and I had already finished the book. Besides the one thing about history is that it already happened I mean how many times can you learn the Revolutionary War? The time it took the teacher to go over one chapter I had read four. It was like that with me in everything. Not because I was naturally smart it was because I was inquisitive I just wanted to know things just to know them.

It would have been easy for them to fail me if I gave them half a chance but, I never did I was honor roll all the time. My teachers underestimated me because I was Black. They equivocated Black with stupid and most teachers never learned how to work with me. I think they had a hard time adjusting their minds to the fact that Black people could have some sort of intelligence.

But, as I look at it today I don’t really blame the nimrods. I mean if you think about it 15 years earlier it was pretty much against the law for Blacks and Whites to stand in the same room together. Now they have this Black boy correcting her every 30 minutes. Man that had to be hard. But, you can only read so much so I'd spend my time drawing sometimes or making people laugh I was a class clown because let's face it everyone loves a buffoon. It was the only way I could get attention and they loved it when I was their clown. I mean true enough I'm a funny guy and all but they expected no more. When I was the clown I fit the pattern, shuckin’ an jivin’ that’s what they like to see. If you want to be rich and famous in this piece you better have a wicked hook shot, some jokes, a rap, or the trap. Fits the profile.

I think the major thing I learned from this time in my life is never underestimate anyone. Always meet someone with an open mind because you don't know what they know. Let someone show you what they know and go from there. When you assume on people you miss critical facts.

The Internet never ceases to amaze me

This aspiring DJ has remixed every track on N.W.A's Straight Outta Comptom. What he has done is edited out everything but the curse words.

If you want to get a taste of this revolutionary style click here.


This post is Matlock approved.

The 30 Dance ™

I need to go ahead and trademark this. If you are lucky you will live long enough to do the 30 Dance ™. One of my fellow bloggers was commenting about her malaise she is at a point where she feels unhappy in her life but it's not a depression per se but more about this thing that hangs over you. You will start to get the itch to do this dance around 29 years old or so. After a while you start moving to this rhythm that goes. Who am I, what am I doing, when am I going to get there, where is my life headed, why is this happening to me, and how did I get it so wrong?

The funny thing about being a teenager and an young adult is that you are so full of optimism and you have this GRAND plan and everything is going to work according to this plan. You are going to go to college, get this great job making shitloads of money, find this perfect mate, get married, have kids, your mate is going to have this great job so you all can buy that big white house on the hill. You'll drive the Benz and your mate will drive the Lexus SUV and everything will just work out great.

Me, I'd never spoil the fun for a teenage by telling them how the "real" world is. What fun would that be? I want every kid behind me to fuck up thier credit like I did. Rejection letters and bill collecters build character the way I see it. It's new age dodgeball!

The 30 Dance ™ is not a fun dance but, it's the dance we do when we start getting closer 30 and evaluate our lives. For many people it's the idea that they haven't found that one special person, or it could be that they are not as successful as their high school counselor told them they would be. Or that they are under a pile of debt that they can't see their way out of, or they are in a job they hate. The thing about this new world that we live in is that it has extened childhood by about 8 years or so. So even though we become "adults" at 18 we really don't grow up until about 26 but society makes us think we are grown in our 20s. We arent.

There is no easy solution to the 30 Dance ™. We all hit it differently and we all come out of it differently. I'm not the best judge when it comes to the 30 Dance ™. It hit me and I took a sucidal job in Iraq. So taking advice from probably isn't in your best interest. I just see the trend, luckly for me everything will work exactly as I planned it when I turn 40.

I'm all erudite 'n shit.

This is cool as hell. I know that people read this blog but, I never really expect people to get anything out of it. From the other side I would envison this a time waster or something like that. You know I see people at work saying stuff like,

"I really don't feel like working this report today. Let me look at Tommie Hu$tle's blog and procrastinate some more."

Well today one of my fellow bloggers shot me an email and asked me to take a look at her quote of the week. Usually she gets some famous person or something like that but this time she used one of my sayings for her quote. I thought that was really cool. I mean when I think of quotes I think of something that someone said that you can apply to your own life and it has value. So that means, at least to one person my words have value. That very swass indeed.

Man, these Latina Marines are some mujeres muy calientes!

Man I have to say with the old MEF they had some real work horses in the pack. I mean IF I saw a woman she generally had a face that looked like it could take a punch. With the new MEF they have brought in some lookers.

I don't know if it's the pulled back hair making them look all Lambada and shit or if it's the metric ton of eyeliner they put on but, Goddamn it Ortiz, Rameiez, Ayala, and Sanchez you are doing it to me.

Ken and I were at this one spot and there was this Latina MGSgt that was looking right as hell. She was like 40 something the best way I could describe her is voluptious. She was one of those old ladies that knew how to take care of her body. Ken and I looked at her, then looked at each other, then looked at her again and then he said, "A woman like that will kill a man younger than 35."

I said "You know what? You are probably right. Well, tell my Mom I love her and everyone else I died serving my country."

It was kind of wierd. I was a little grossed out that I had the hots for an old ass 40+ year old. So I said to myself it must be because I've been in the sandbox so long. But, then Mahi and I saw her again and I waited to see what he would say. He thought she was good to go too. So I didn't feel so bad.

¡Tengamos un partido en mis pantalones!

Tommie has obtained secret photos from the Vatican.

It seems that any canidate for the Pope must fight his way to the top of the tower versus the worlds greatest martial artists.

This post is OpinionatedCyborg approved.

Tommie doing his part for the internet one more time.

Have you ever wondered how your lady found your collection of “hot, hot women that need the bologna pony”?

You say to yourself, “How did she find that? I never thought she would look in the C:\WINNT\system32\Microsoft\Protect\S-1-5-18\User\Driver\Home\Inft
\CDDmc\Wkndl directory.”

Or maybe your Mom stopped by and happened to hop on the Internet while you were in the shower and when you come back she has found her way to bangbus.com and is now screaming at you about how sick of an individual you are. The whole time you are thinking, "I haven't been to bangbus since Jimmy and the boys came over three weeks ago."

What about that chat you had with an old flame in Yahoo messenger. You didn't mean anything by it. You were just flirting for old times sake. You didn't know your new girl would find it. Heck, how did she even know your password?

Is this you or could it be you in the near future?

Well my friends let me tell you what you can do to prevent this kind of tragic oops. It's quite simple really. You see information assurance is my real skill and I get paid to keep information hidden. Here are some simple tips to keep you out of the digital doghouse.

The most common mistake comes from playing video files in your favorite media player. Let's take windows media player for now. What happens in media player is that it saves all the files you open and all the URLs that you go by default. I mean even if you try to bury all your good stuff in some obscure directory as long as your media player is saving that list of open files and URLs then you might as put a shortcut on your desktop that says Donkey Shlongs.

To fix this problem what you can do is in media player go to tools->Options->Privacy and then uncheck the History as well as clicking the Clear History button.

The second mistake is with Internet Explorer and Firefox but, since the average Firefox user knows how to cover tracks I'll focus on the IE user.

Let's start in Tools.

Go to tools->General and you will see a section for Temporary Internet Files. IE often times stores pages you view on the Internet for quick viewing later. That way the program doesn't have to waste time trying to load pages you frequent. This means that you can have a slew of .jpg and .gif files stored away on your computer. That can end up being a lot of titty if you aren't careful. We need to start by deleting the files. You'll have to do this every time you log off if you want to insure a clean computer, which can be a bit bothersome but the way I see it there is nothing bothersome about a clear conscience. There is nothing worse than wondering if you forgot to log off that page or if it is still in the history.

Speaking of history at the bottom of the general page what you can do is set your history for a day or so. If you surf at work (and I know you do) I would probably set my history to 0. Any pages you think you really need then you should bookmark. It takes a bit more effort but being clean is worth it.

Now then what if you have a mate that is a bit more inquisitive than that and has the knowledge that .mov is a movie file and .jpg is a picture file. It doesn't matter how deep you bury your files a basic search on the drive will pull that all up. Might I suggest WinZip my friend?

WinZip you say, what good is zipping my files my sexy Sherlock Holmes can most assuredly do a search on .zip files and find the same things and I would respond yes, this is true but...if you password protect your zip files then it makes it a bit more difficult to infiltrate your porn kingdom. At that point all you need is a strong password.

I'm sure you are asking what is a strong password and I'll tell you. A strong password is one that contains alphanumeric character A-Z, 0-9, and a special character “! @#$%^&*()”. What I would suggest is that you make not passwords but pass phrases. Take a sentence that is easy for you to remember let's say for example the sentence

I hope my wife never finds my porno collection.

This sentence is easy to remember but you might be saying this doesn't meet your criteria of a strong pass phrase and this is true so lets make some adjustments to make it one.

Ihopemywifeneverfindsmypornocollection.

This is a pretty long password in itself but it isn't strong at all. There are programs that will enter every word that it finds in the dictionary both forwards and backwards. It would take me all of 10 to 20 seconds to crack this password with the correct software. Maybe a bit longer because I left the peroid in but, not so much longer that your porn can't be raided in less than one hour. So let's add something to the mix. Let's take all the vowels and switch them to a number.

1h0p3myw1f3n3v3rf1ndsmyp0r0n0c0ll3ct10n.

Now then this password if you look at it straight on looks like gibberish to the untrained eye but since you know what you are looking for it makes sense and you have a pattern that you can remember. But this still isn't strong enough. What we will now do is change the 's' to a $.

1h0p3myw1f3n3v3rf1nd$myp0r0n0c0ll3ct10n.

This is a bit stronger but not as strong as it could be so let's take the double 'l' and change it to |and take the 't' and change it to a +

1h0p3myw1f3n3v3rf1nd$myp0r0n0c0||3c+10n.

Now then this is what I call as strong password. It appears to be total gibberish but it makes sense to you the creator. Try your own pass phrases.

At any rate that was a bit of basic Internet security for you all. I hope you enjoyed today's lesson.


Tommie Hu$tle, protecting smut one computer at a time.

For real, these bugs made a deal with the Devil.

By devine writ of Pope Benedict XVI I affirm this to be a true story.

I'm sitting here and one of those cheeto mosquitos buzzes by me. As soon as she gets into postion I clap my hands together smashing it and it drops to the floor. For some reason I continue to look at it; probably because it is so large and I swear it twitches like the nerves are jumping but the creature gets up and STARTS FLYING again. So once it gets about hand level I clap my hands together again. Sending it barrelling to the ground again. It stays there for about a second before it GETS UP AND STARTS FLYING AGAIN.

I'm like WTF. I look at it amazed and I clap it a third time this time so hard my hands sting and for the third time the thing falls to the ground. I look at this thing and say you better not move bitch! What does she do? She starts to get up again. This time I'm taking no chances I stomp on it, twice and then I make sure to grind it into the cement.

I think I heard it say right before I crushed it.

L'alimentazione del nostro signore scuro Satan è eternal!

Flip-Flopped again

From my weeks of travel I had been on what most people would consider a normal schedule. I'd go to work in the morning and then come home in the evening and sleep. This has been working for the better part of three weeks and I was getting used to the day and night schedule. But, that wasn't going to be for long expecting some travelers in and out so I have to drop off and pick up. That means I'm looking at spinning around the clock until everyone gets in place. I'm tired as hell and I'm not sure I have the stamina for this all night thing.

Tommie doing his part for the internet.

CCleaner (Crap Cleaner) is a freeware system optimization tool that removes unused and temporary files from your system - allowing Windows to run faster, more efficiently and giving you more hard disk space.

Basically that means that it gets rid of all the temp files from your computer and helps it to run faster. It is a very nice application, however a warning to peeps who are not aware.

Something files are not safe to remove without problems, this program can and will remove some things that are in your registry that can make things on your system run a bit weird. The good thing is that CCleaner creates backups of your registry, so that is always a plus, just be careful.

If you are someone who thinks of Macy's and Babies 'R' Us when I say the word registry you many not want to download and use this willy nilly. If you stay away from registry files you should be ok.

This is Tommie - Early years.

Because of my Dad’s career in the military we moved a lot and when I was a kid we lived in some of the most racist places in America. We were the one of the first Black families to live in Riverdale, GA back in the 80’s. Most military brats are quick witted because we move so much. We see more than most kids our age and because we are always the new kid we have to evaluate the rest of the kids in the class really quickly. You have to find the bullies, the cool kids, the geeks, the lames, and the teacher’s pets in a hurry. You don’t have the benefit of going to school with a kid for 3 or 4 years to know who is who or what is what. Being too trusting can get you ending up the pawn of some other kids pranks or something.

Because of those experiences I’m always looking, watching, scheming, plotting, and planning. I read people and I look for their likes, dislikes, strengths, and weaknesses. I’ll exploit those attributes for my benefit, I'm like Satan I'll appeal to someone's vanity their greed, their lust or whatever it maybe to get them to do what I need them to do. When I'm done I'll leave them high and dry. I don't like surprises so I keep an eye on everyone at all times. The rogue’s galleries are a manifestation of that ability. I can generally read someone’s personality after observing him or her for about 6 to 10 hours. It’s a survival skill. As part of it I’ve learned the weakness of everyone I’ve met and that I’m around in the event the I may have to go up against them. I’m good at weeding out people’s insecurities and fears. I tend to stay away from other Military brats because I’ve found that they often do the same thing and military brats wear masks. Most times they are hard to read because they are selling an image they want you to see not what they really are. I’m no exception.

When I was a kid I would hear things like “if you weren't Black you could be my best friend” or “I would go with you if you weren't Black”. People used to make fun of me and call me names it was hard sometimes. You would think this would have made me bitter but I didn't know any better that’s how it went. I mean sometimes I would cry and when I got home from school my Mom would always check my face for salt trails from tears. If she saw salt trails then she would be up to the school the next day in a teacher’s face and then I’d have to confront my tormentor(s) which was all good while my Mommy was standing there but, once she left it started all over again. After a while I got smart to that and I would wash my face before I got home so she couldn't tell.

I'd have birthday parties and invite kids and no one would show up. That was my life.
You would think that was a shitty life but it wasn’t my brother and parents were my playmates. People always note that my I have a close relationship with my family and I do. That’s because my parents developed a siege mentality when it came to us so anything we wanted to do we did with them. The other thing is my brother was my best friend and that’s all I needed. I mean this is the amazing thing about siblings they are GENETICALLY designed to be your playmate.I mean your siblings are literally born to play with you.

I always feel bad for people who don’t get along with their siblings. It’s like they missed the whole point. It’s funny, we were never allowed to spend the night at people’s homes or go inside their houses and my Dad would always tell us silly stuff like you can’t spend the night over there because X’s parents were homosexual drug dealers.

Other than playing with my brother video games was my other getaway. It was (is) my way to cope. The video game characters always liked me, I was always the hero, if the people in video game world weren't there to help me I could kill them. The longer I played videogames the more stress I was under. I think my parents saw that and gave me more liberties when it came to games. I probably played to an unhealthly level but, I needed that to keep my mind engaged and decompress. It was my way to hide from the world. Plus it engaged and focused my mind, I've always like Role Playing Games or fantasy games they engaged my mind and I'm was at my best when I was solving a puzzles it is still the same today. Some people hide behind the bottle, others a needle, for me my addiciton is at the end of joystick.

From the Peanut gallery - 04/19/2005

Q:
When you tell all, be sure to tell the good, bad, and especially the ugly. The ugly tells the real truth about the Tommie you want the readers to know.

A:
No doubt, this is going to be as above board as I can make it. I plan on getting it out. There are three or four reasons I want to get this out.

1. My friend Sara really inspired me to do this so if you all want to thank someone you can thank her for this and the Peanut Gallery. She was the spark.
2. There was some misunderstanding about my background. I think the BETing/MTVing of the Black ascension to success has skewed America and probably the world’s view of how and where success comes from in the Black community.
3. This "Tommie Hu$tle" character has kind of grown into it’s own personality like a Sherman Clump/Buddy Love thing. I mean I am Tommie Hu$tle, I'm not. I mean this TH thing has taken a life of it's own and people think what they want to think. This will help to bring some balance to the force.

Q:
How do you clean your clothes where you are?

A:
Great question I’m shocked no one has asked me this question until now. We have laundry service. I drop my clothes off and they bring them back to me three days later.

Q:
Who do you miss?

A:
You of course baby, who else would it be?

Q:
I was reading the blog part about the helicopter crash. For a minute, when I heard civilians, I thought about you too. To us, it doesn't matter if it's Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran, or Pakistan. They are all the same if we have never been over there. We think when they talk about one, they are talking about them all.

A:
Yeah, I know. I wish that people could live out here for a week to see what it is like. I think they would get a different perspective about how it goes down. At least how I live. I spend most of my time here behind the wire so my life is cushioned from the ugly realities of what you see on headline news.

Q:
I know the old Tommie, but I am sure that I don’t know the real Tommie Right?

A:
I would think you do aside from the fact that I'm not as naive as you think that I am. I am someone who is more likely to take advantage of someone rather than someone who is taken advantage of.
Keep reading.


Q:
I don't believe in guns myself. Actually, I think they should be illegal altogether for all non-military personnel/police in civilian life, fuck the war zone.

A:
Don’t mistake my inability to get sexually excited at the sight and feel of a gun as a statement of not respecting guns or seeing the need for one. First and foremost I’m an American and that being said I am genetically designed with the love of Girls, Guns, and God (in that order). I would have no problem operating a gun if then need arises and I would have no mental hesitation about firing a weapon and killing another sentient being if that meant my survival or the survival of those around me. Job be damned, I’d much rather be fired than buried.

I'm just mature enough to know am already equipped with a fully functional phallus and I don't need an artifical one to affirm my manhood. I don't split hairs, guns are not for defense they are desinged to kill plain and simple. I respect that fact and as it is with many things in my reality having one is much different than HAVING to use one. I would stand far, far away from anyone who doesn't respect that fact.

I live with the reality that regardless if you believe in the reasons why Americans are here. There are people that are only miles from me that would beat, torture, and kill me. Before they did that they would find out where you live and if they could they would go to your home and do the same thing to you and they would continue until they killed every last person that thought or believed what you and I believe. The good thing is that I would suspect that less than 5% of the people here think or believe that.

Q:
Ha! Noticed the change in your title once more - although I must say, I liked the "Is there any man more amazing than Tommie Hu$tle" best of all.

A:
Life is about change. That’s what I try and let my readers know. Nothing stays the same forever. The downfall of any civilization is complacency.

Q:
I am shocked the first thing you wouldn’t want to do when you get home is lay in the arms of a woman you love (or at least like, lol).

A:
Yeah, I know it sounds funny but I left home not in the arms of a woman that I loved or liked so it’s like whatever to me now. The women that I have had in my life tend to suffer from ATF syndrome. That is After The Fact syndrome; they don’t tend to realize what they had in me until after the fact. I’m sure it has to be some sort of mental malady, the only cure is for me to gone for a while. But, once I show back up they will start to exhibit signs of ATF syndrome again.

Two reasons really, one when I get home I want to decompress this job is mentally and physically draining. You spend a lot of your time sub-processing information and rationalizing what most people would find insane (Is this going to crash, get shot at, explode). Here’s a daily thought that I have to suppress but it is a reality. Every place I go can be blown up, think about that for a second. Think about your regular day and then think that something can randomly explode and even your bedroom isn’t safe from that random explosion. If that doesn’t tuck you in at night I don’t know what does. At any rate that is to say when I get home I want some time to myself to process mental silence.

The second reason is because once I get home I’ll be “on” even with this blog people are going to want to hear the who, what, when, where, why, and how of Iraq. So I want some time to think about the who, what, when, where, why, and how for myself.

Q:
Are you wearing plenty of socks to keep away the blisters? I know your momma gave you the remedy to keep blisters away.

A:
Nope. Ummm, nope my Mom didn’t give me the anti-blister remedy, but I’ll be sure to ask her.

Q:
Got a date yet on your ETA?

A:
Yeah, I know exactly when I’ll be home.

Q:
Do you have someone picking you up from the airport?

A:
Someone would have to know when I was going to be at the airport to pick me up. No one knows that.

Q:
What are you looking forward to most in leaving Iraq?

A:
God, you know I've never thought of it really. I think just being around women mostly. Not in a sexual way but, just having a more diverse group of people to communicate with. That's a snap response I'll have to think on it. I generally don't think about what I'm going to do when I get out of here. Around here it's bad to pre-plan getting out. It's better to take things one day at a time. It's real random around here.

*after thinking*

Going to the bathroom is what I’m looking forward to when I leave Iraq. Yes, going to the bathroom in the same general area as my bed. Getting fully dressed to go 200 meters to the nearest bathroom sucks. I think anyone who has been in this situation looks forward to the simple and modern conveniences that American society provides.

Q:
We definitely need to hook up when you’re back!

A:
No doubt.

Q:
Love the blog – it's perfect for a voyeur like me. Sorry I haven't sent more thoughts back! I could bury you with a ton of excuses, but truth is I need to rethink my priorities…

A:
We all do, we all do. Hey as long as you are reading it and getting enjoyment out of it then that's what I like the most. I know you are out there. The thing that is wild about the blog is that I only gave the blog to like no more than 30 people and I've gotten damn near 6000 views and over 200 emails a week. It's crazy but, good crazy it takes my mind away from here.

Q:
Are you going to Poland before you come back to the states?

A:
I don't know yet. I mean I could. I have at least 5 countries that I HAVE to visit. I’m rounding up my list right not but, I know where I’m heading first.

Q: Are you starting to have feeling like you just can't stand being in the same place of the time?

A:
Uhh, I'm kind of indifferent because I'm not really in the same place all the time. I move around a lot. I'm in the air as much as I'm on the ground.


Q:
Are their any females working with you?

A:
Working with me as in co-workers? No. Here in Iraq? Yes, but I wouldn't say I work with them they are just here.

Q:
What is the ratio for female/males, black/white, etc.?

A:
Depends on the base.

Q:
Have you met anyone special out there yet?

A:
*SIGH*, no Mom I haven’t met anyone out here and I’m not looking to.

Q:
Well, I’m just saying Son you can find love anywhere.

A:
This is true but, love in a twin bed isn’t what I would call love.

Q:
How is it going for you this morning?

A:
You mean this evening? Pretty chill, had a long two weeks and I took today "off" that is to say I only had a 12-hour day.

Q:
Will you be able to keep the body armor?

A:
If I 'lose' it then I'd have to pay for it. But, to be honest with you I don't want to see the shit when I get done with this. A bulletproof vest is only cool to people that don't need one.

Q:
Hey – did your blog switch from 50 days left in Iraq to 40 days left in Iraq?

A:
Someone is a sharp cookie I see. But that doesn’t answer the question you think it does. Good luck on that one.

PS: Cookies should be round not sharp.

Q:
I love reading your blog but you sure know how to keep someone in the dictionary.

A:
That is by design. I make the assumption that my readers are more intelligent than the typical net denizen. Because of that fact they don’t mind adding a bit more knowledge to their mental repertoire or mental Rolodex if you prefer colloquialisms.

Lazy Bastard

Man, I've been working a bit and as a result I've been negleted my workout schedule and I'm losing a bit of mass. It sucks becasue I was just starting to fill out like I wanted to and now I got to try and chase the ghost.

The thing is I don't feel like it. I was doing my pullups with my flack and SAPI plates in that is a nice little work out. Heck I remember when that flack used to feel like pure hell, now it feels like a second skin.

I need to get back on schedule.

Agh, my eyes! Zee Goggles! They do Nothing!

Man what is it with these demon insects here in Iraq? They go straight for the eyes, nose and mouth. Flies, dragonflies, mosquitos, gnats, whatever. I swear what is the deal with these fucking things.

You know how sad you feel for like hungry Africans that Sally Struthers is always trying to save when you realize that you have stayed up to late. I know you say to yourself why don't they brush the flies off their mouth. It's not that they arent trying it's that the other flies have pinned their arms down so they can't move.

The day I almost died.

Man, Mahi and I were working on putting a system together and we didn't have any male to male power connectors so what does any FE worth his weight do? I make them. I took an extension cord cut the lengths I needed. Then pillaged for some power cables that weren't being used and cut the male ends off and we started to soldier the male ends to the extension cord.

Well that all went cool and then we got to the process of testing them out with our makeshift multimeter (READ: an old fan that was in the room) it seemed that our cables were working fine so we decided to route power to all of our tables and stuff.

Before I finsh, let me give you all a basic course on how electricty works. The female end of a power cable is the output. That means raw power comes from the female end. That's why it's always recessed into the wall. That is so you don't endup blasting yourself. The male end is the input, that side is the "safe" side. So basically when you plug the male end of a plug into the female end of an outlet the electricty travels from the wall, through the wire, to the device you want to power and that cable suppiles electricity to whatever is at the end of the cable.

Well what we did was make male to male that means both ends act as outputs. So I'm holding the METAL end of the cable when Mahi neglects to tell me that he is plugging his end into a live circiut. The next thing I know I'm thinking man my hand is really tingling then a sharp pain hit my my finger and I let out a slew of obsenities that sound something like "whatthefuckholyshitmotherfuckergoddamnwhatthefuckwasthat!" dropping the cord at the same time. He was like dude, you holding that? Fuck man my bad.

I just got feeling back in my finger a day later.

Line up!

Man I've been in this spot for damn near 6 months and I haven't gotten a hair cut or anything and my head was/is looking like a hot mess. I was bad off I had some wierd sideburn thing that wouldn't connect to my face. I looked like a black hasidic jew or something crazy like that.

So I figured enough was enough. I got my new dude G-Wood to get me a line up. I feel much better now, I don't care what funky hair style you are trying you put a line on it and it will look fresh and clean. The funny thing is he said I hope you don't mind I charge 2 dollars for my services. I was like fuck son, I'll shoot you a twenty and I'm still up for the year.

That being said I gave him two dollars.

A forward

All things start at the beginning and to do that I have to start with where I came from and that would be from my parents. It's important to spell out their part in making me who I am and where my core personality traits come from. I'll spare you the details of how I got here but I'm sure you can figure out the mechanics. Besides what I DO know is that my parents only had sex 2 times once for me and once for my brother, this FACT is not up for discussion.

My Dad, Peter (pronounced Pe-DA) Hustle, came from a large family he was the oldest and was often times the bread winner and surrogate father for his family. My grandfather (well both of them to be honest) was a rolling stone. My Dad by all accounts was poor and hungry. To eat where he was from he had to work. Also my Dad graduated dead last in his class from high school. He was in special education and all that crap, not because he was stupid or a retard but because he was poor. The world doesn't give poor people and chance and then blames them for their situation. That's not an excuse that is just an "is".

After high school for him he joined the Navy and became a voracious reader. My Dad built opportunities for himself. By the time I was 16 or 17 my Dad had a full career in the US Military and retired at 37, had a successful insurance business that was worth millions cashed out and retired from the insurance game by the time he was 50 and the way I see it he was quite possibly the most successful person out of his high school class.

Heck, everyone that has ever met him will tell you how intelligent he sounds or is. Hell, the guy is the smartest man I know (it took me a while to figure that out).

As for me I was never poor or hungry because my Dad's goal in life was for his children to never be hungry or poor and I was always in books because he knew that education was the key and any real learning that I was going to do or going to get was not going to come from school. For my brother and I we had two schools, regular school and Dad school. Education was king in my house and not just regular school things my Dad wanted to make sure we were knowledgeable on a broad range of topics on as a result I've developed a knack for oddball facts and figures. I pick up on information like that and it's the same for my brother.

He also introduced me to my first love, video games. I can tell you the first game I ever played was Sea wolf I had to be maybe 3 or 4 at the time my Dad would take me to Aladdin’s Castle and let me play games. While I know you may see kids today who randomly press buttons that wasn’t me. I was playing the game I intuitively knew what to do don’t ask me how but if you ask anyone in my family. I am all things games.

As a matter of fact when I was in the 1st grade we got a Vic 20 and the only way I could play games at home was by writing the programs myself. There was a magazine called Games magazine and it had BASIC source code for all sorts of games and I would sit up all night (well all night for a first grader) programming and debugging that source so I could play a game. If I knew what I know now I would have keep going but, someone figured out that you could fit those games on a cart and once it got to me I was like so long programming!



My Mom, Sista Hustle also came from a large family she was the eldest girl and pretty much the big sister of the bunch. Her older brother was shipped off to live with my great aunt Sealy. I'm not sure why but, it is what it is. Her father was a rolling stone as well and people tell me that I take after him, Fast Freddie they used to call him. He died in 1996 of a bad heart. I say he died of good living. He lived fast and hard and his health deteriorated because of that lifestyle. But, anyone that met him loved him he was a charismatic fellow. The one thing I always found funny about him is he always called me Tomy. I was like dude there is like a whole extra 'm' you are missing in there.

At any rate, my Mom was/is pretty much the glue of our family. She protects her litter at the same level as an injured female tiger. As a child I thought my Mom was just a busybody but what I found out a few days before I left to go to Iraq was that her 1st grade teacher horribly and brutally abused her. I've never met pure evil but if I did it have to be that woman. She would lock my Mom and three other students in a closet and wouldn't let them out. They would urinate and defecate on themselves and generally were terrified little kids then when they would get home and get in trouble for making a mess of themselves.

Then they would get sent back to school, this happened everyday for a long time from what I could tell. As my Mom told me this story I was looking at her and I didn't see my Mom. I saw a little girl that I couldn't help and I just felt so powerless as she told me that story. Of the four of those little kids she is the only one that is still alive they all died young. The last one to die died of cancer I think and she found my Mom and asked her to come to the hospital. She thanked my Mom for being there for them. As my Mom related the story I found out she was the one that held hands and told everyone in that dark closet that they would be okay. She helped them to survive. That story made me so sad, I went upstairs that night and I just cried about it because I love my Mom so much but, right there I couldn't help her, there was nothing I could do to save her or make it better.

As a result she was extremely involved in school with us. When I was a kid the schools could dish out corporal punishment however no teachers were allowed to touch me at all. She was always the PTA president; hell if they had a PTA in College she would have been the President. My Mom she always kept a positive face even when things were probably upside down. I mean because I am I an adult. I know that there are ups and downs but as a kid and when I say kid I mean in my 20s I never saw my Mom have a bad day. The one thing my parents were good at was hiding stress from us. I think that it is important for parents to shield kids from the realties of their lives or at least break it down on level that the kids can cope with.

Another thing about my Mom that I just found out is that she is dyslexic and I am as well I often cross up 'd', 'p', and 'b' (the lowercase not the upper case). Well my Mom is a wonderful artist one I always wished I could be. She can draw anything from sight. I’m a decent artist but my art comes from my mind I can imagine something and draw it. I’m not all that good at drawing nature. However, her art skill wasn't just an element of having a creative mind it is how she learned how to read and write. She doesn't read or write words like regular people as far as I can tell. She doesn't process words as a collection of letters like you and I do. She sees them as images sort of like you would see a picture of a bird and then process it to the word 'bird'. She sees the word ‘bird’ and processes the words into an image and then she 'draws' the word. I mean if you were to draw the word “bird” it is 4 straight lines, 2 half circles, 1, arc, and one dot. You all don't see that but, I do and she does. That's how she defeated dyslexia pretty cool huh?

The main thing about my Mom because of her life as a little girl she is protective of little kids and lost souls in general. She has a kind heart and a big heart. Sometimes my Dad has to pull her out because she can get in to deep when trying to "help" or "save" someone. My Dad, brother, and I have not problems cutting our losses but my Mom is a "never give up, and all people are special" type of woman. Thank goodness we found her first.

From my Mom I think I got my creativity, my optimism, my artistic ability and my charm.

From my Dad I got my work ethic (later on in life), my desire for knowledge, confidence, and love for technology.

Dogs and Cats

I've never really been much of an animal lover I just don't get into it. Since being out here it has solidifed my view on that. I have seen and heard a lot of things since I've been out here. One of the most disturbing are the dogs and cats. If you watch action movies or war movies or shit like that they always show the hero killing like 300 underlings in an attempt to get to the main villian. What they don't show you is what happens when a dead body stays outside for about a day or two. Well everything for miles comes to take a bite of the tasty morsel. Insurgents unlike Military personnel don't have a "no man left behind policy". After a few of their buddies get shot trying to take on the great Satan the surviviors usually cut and run leaving the ribbons of flesh that used to be their point guy on the ground.

Not to long after the gunfire the dogs and cats show up and what do you think they do? They feast, the dogs and cats here will work together on cleaning the flesh off of a corpse. It's not a pretty sight on that has disturbed me terribly. On top of that the animals here have rabies and are feral. So put it like this you have feral animals that run in packs, with fleas, ticks, and rabies, AND on top of that they have a taste for human flesh.

As a result some units have a shoot and burn on site orders for dogs and cats. I for one don't blame them now I know some of you may think this is right up some units alley but the people I talk to hate doing it. Why because the have to bag and tag the critters. So not only to you have to shoot them but, you have to pick them up with all those fleas and ticks and then have to throw them in the burn area. I don't know if you have every had the pleasure of smelling burning hair or fur. Not pleasant. From my experiences now, I know now I'd never own a pet. The thought of one eating me while I'm dead on my kitchen floor has freaked me the hell out.

Rogue's Gallery: 00013 Mahi-Mahi

Mahi-Mahi or Mahi for short is the latest FE to make it to Iraq. If you think real hard you can figure out the reason for his name. I'll give you one hint he is from Hawaii. He is a bit younger that me and is getting married when he gets out of here. The one thing I like to hear about is the reasons for us as FEs to come out here. I mean it's for the money but it's also always more than that.

Of all the FEs he is the most like me and probably the most compatible with Ken and I. Ken and I are like two peas in a pod, we have the same work ethic, same value system and same outlook on life. It's hard to find people like that. Mahi and I after working together I have found share the same traits and that is good.

The thing that was wild is that by talking to him and working with him I see how much I have grown as a person and a FE in Iraq. I realized that I had gained so much knowledge. I wouldn't say that he looked up to me but I can say he depended on my advice on what to do and how to do things. Which I guess comes with living out here. I mean we were both thrusts on a situation where neither of us knew what the fuck was going on but, still he defered to my "experience". That was a cool little feeling.

I wish I could tell you all more but, I would be violating several laws. Needless to say I'm going to enjoy working with him and if we have more people like Mahi and Ken out here my job is going to go a whole lot smoother. That is if Mahi doesn't kill me.

I'll talk more about Mahi in the next few posts, we had a long week together.

Back from travel.

Hey all I'm back from another round of travel safe and sound. There is so much to talk about and so much to say that I'm having a hard time forming the words of the entire thing.

This was a big mission for me it was my first lead assignment ever in life. It's wierd when people depend on you to give the right anwser and you really have no clue what the right anwser is.

I have met a lot of new people and this trial by fire has been really good for me. I'm tired, I'm burned out, I'm worn out but I gained a lot of respect from my clients and that says a lot. I have a lot more confidence then I did when I left out of this joint.