Got a couple days to add. I'll get em down when I get time.
Been in a toxic swamp of a "town" for a few days. Nothing too much going on. The biggest threat we actually face most of the time is chronic boredom. Don't get me wrong, this place ain't what I'd call safe, but aside from the possible outbreak of a revolution or raid by some guerrillas, seems like this is gonna be a sleepy stay.
But, those possibilities have most of the crew still stationed one town back. Lexi's there, and I talked to the Malasian cook bout keepin an eye on her. I didn't like the way the fat Turk kept eyein her, so I uh, took some measures to make sure he keeps his hands to himself and his dick in his pants (and for the next couple days, with his balls halfway into his lower intestine, I don't think he'll be thinkin much bout getting horizontal w anybody).
I'm praying for a buddy right now who's got some time crawlin through a ditch a barbed wire and broken glass ahead. Longest hour is waiting for the pills to kick in. Longest days are waiting for test results. Seems like he's better today. Told me bout his weekend, a "phenominal 1 and 2 act, w a chronic series of bad decisions and gen'ral calamity in the 3rd" as he called it (but it sounded like a regular Tuesday night fer me). Said he was feelin inspired for the first time in a while after too long a stretch being bored.
Boredom, that's a funny one and a tough one. Its funny cuz if ya got time to be bored, prolly means most things are going right in yer life and ya got nothin to worry bout. It also means ya got time to do something worth doin.
But its a tough one too, in that idle hands devils playground kinda way. I reckon most a the problems that him and the lil gang seems to have is theyre all too smart fer their own good w too much idle time on their hands. Recipe for disasters (but really funny stories). Hear some of em are makin some pretty good music (and I'd love to play some speed-metal drums w a few of em...or maybe "sing"...heheh...eh, maybe next Nola visit). But the rest of em need to get to makin something or creating somethin. Too much time wasted on destruction and not enough on construction. Well, anyways, there endeth my sermon, bitches. Soapbox is all yours.
Fuckenhellsonofabitchchristonatitfuckinrubbercrutch. There's a goddamned monkey drinking my vodka. Seriously. THERE IS A FUCKING CHIMP DRINKING MY FUCKING VODKA. Oh man, I wanna shoot him. But I gotta give him credit. He knows the good shit from the piss and he got to it without me noticin. Anybody know if its safe to drink after a monkey?
He touches my cigarettes or scotch, I'm getting a flamethrower.