When I worked at Ft. Monroe, a friend of mine by the name of Kevin, made a hobby out of recording statements buy one of the Leads at our meetings. This lead had a way with words that always amazed me and everyone else, and had the added benefit of making a meeting with him in it very interesting. While some if not much of this is politically incorrect, it is also a bit funny, because they are, in some cases, things that should not be said at a meeting.
Oh and just like Kevin, I also do not claim to know what all of these mean. Just think of them in the context of a series of meetings dealing with event planing.
1: They are swinging late on a fastball.
2: sweat pump activation
3: a butt-numbing event
4: they had their brains in neutral.
5: bureaucratic nightmares
6: let's flatten that cat
7: run back over that cat
8: it was like a primer went off in his butt
9: run the rats down the holes
10: we've kicked that can already
11: we're going far into the empire
12: a waste of human flesh
13: you need to get in bed with that information
14: he's the dullest arrow in the quiver
15: this thing has the atomic weight of plutonium in it
16: a turd in the punchbowl
17: let's have 500mg of common sense
18: dead brain; 1 each
19: we've got some fence-mending to do
20: Parry that and plant one on his kisser
21: is that like, "Hi, I'm Ed; call me Jason"?
22: now we're bagging cats
23: it'll give you wolf breath
24: She's an oxygen thief
25: he's experiencing billet-rage
26: turret-syndrome reaction
27: any monkey can do that job
28: he's eight rungs down the food chain
29: we're not going to do a 'hey diddle diddle up the middle' on this one
30: the war goes on while the furer sleeps
31: it seems he dropped out of the punch bowl
32: we've recovered well from yesterday's 'standing eight count'
33: OK, everyone unpucker your sphincters
34: we've got an 'issue on steroids' here
35: we just kneecapped a bunch of people
36: I was just standing there with my teeth in my mouth
37: I was the heavy bag that got punched
38: he's calling audibles
39: before we start the stuffex
40: we ate some cheese on him
41: the (AAR) monkeys (Replace AAR with your favorite group with in the company)
42: they were just giving north-south head nods.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Monday, April 13, 2009
The Adventures of Rich and GC: Meeting the Mujahideen at the Pelennor Fields
Just after the Kuwait had been liberated we moved up to the border of Kuwait near the town of Kafjii, a battle had occurred there and the debris of combat was everywhere. The smoke from the oil fires was the thickest we had seen yet, and as we approached the border I had an eerie feeling of dejavu. We stopped to get our bearings and as I looked out upon the desert, a dark tower faded in and out of the smoke. I was immediately reminded of the scene just before the battle of Pelennor Fields in the Lord of the Rings.
Did I mention it was eerie?
Well as we were waiting for our leaders to figure out where we were, a group of Muslim militia came up and attempted to communicate with us. I think they were just curious about us and wanted to see some Americans for themselves.
So we attempted to talk and of course nothing could be communicated as neither of our groups had a translator. However, we did manage to get two things out of them. They were Mujahideen from Afghanistan, and they hated Russians.
Now it is easy to assume that they hated Russians, but they let us know it in no uncertain terms. Their leader said the word "Russians" as he made a slicing motion with his finger across his neck. We laughed and smiled at this to which they knew we also did not like the Russians(Soviets at the time), and I simply said to them "Insha Allah" which I believe means "God willing" and they smiled even bigger and waved as we parted ways.
copyright 2009 William T. Richards
Did I mention it was eerie?
Well as we were waiting for our leaders to figure out where we were, a group of Muslim militia came up and attempted to communicate with us. I think they were just curious about us and wanted to see some Americans for themselves.
So we attempted to talk and of course nothing could be communicated as neither of our groups had a translator. However, we did manage to get two things out of them. They were Mujahideen from Afghanistan, and they hated Russians.
Now it is easy to assume that they hated Russians, but they let us know it in no uncertain terms. Their leader said the word "Russians" as he made a slicing motion with his finger across his neck. We laughed and smiled at this to which they knew we also did not like the Russians(Soviets at the time), and I simply said to them "Insha Allah" which I believe means "God willing" and they smiled even bigger and waved as we parted ways.
copyright 2009 William T. Richards
Saturday, April 11, 2009
The Adventures of Rich and GC: Stick to the Road and Beware the Oil Fires at Night
So one evening after the shooting had stopped,we had started to calm down and settle in at the Kuwait International Airport (KIA), I had noticed that I was feeling kind of angst ridden. I could feel every part of my body as though it was all tingling, except for my brain. It was an odd sensation; I had full awareness of my body except for my brain. Anyhow, when I told GC about this he said I needed to go take a walk. It took some convincing but he managed to get me to go for a walk with him.
We told our squad leaders what we were doing. We grabbed a pistol and wandered off to follow the hard top away from the camp towards the oil fires that were only a mile or two away from the camp, but still very loud and bright. We were talking about nothing in particular and started joking about the unexploded ordinance that was likely on the ground where we were. At one point one of us picked up a rock and threw it out in to the desert, not knowing if we were next to a mine field or not. We were so stressed out that we kind of didn’t care if we would set off a land mine or not. However, as we waited for the rock to hit the ground we started to laugh, a maniacal insane sort of laugh. We enjoyed that so much they we continued to do it from time to time as we walked and talked about the things we had seen, done and expected to happen.
At one point we noticed some tracer rounds snaking up through the sky, headed towards us. It was a long ways off, but it was hard to tell just how far off it was due to the nature of the desert. So not being in the right frame of mind we just stood there watching the rounds come closer, fizzle out and... Well it was at about that point that GC said “If one of those rounds hits me I’m going to be pissed”.
“Me too” I replied, and we watched as more rounds snaked up into the air, headed our way. I grabbed up another rock and threw it in to the dirt near us hoping to hit a mine. GC started laughing as we turned our backs on the tracers, and continued our walk. It started to get very dark but our way was lit by the fires in the distance, and we continued to talk about whatever was on our minds. The scene was like something out of a movie. In fact the move that closely resembled that night was American Werewolf in London, where the main character and his friend are walking away from a small town out on the Moors. Those two friends had been given the advise to stick to the road and beware the full moon. I was relaying the movie to GC when I got to the part about sticking to the road. For us the road meant safety from land mines, unexploded ordinance and the fastest way back to the camp. Astonishingly, just as I told him this part of the movie we noticed that the oil fires had gotten very bright and had blinded us somewhat, when we looked down we realized we had wandered off the road and out in to the dirt, and just like in the movie, we could not see the road.
Standing still we turned away from the fires and waited a few minutes as our eyes readjusted to the light. With luck GC was able to spot our foot prints and then the road. Shielding, our eyes and laughing as we walked, we made it back on to the hard top, and walked back to the camp without incident. Whenever, I see American Werewolf in London I think back on that night, and how far over the edge the two of us had been and the return to sanity that we each had made.
copyright 2009 William T. Richards
We told our squad leaders what we were doing. We grabbed a pistol and wandered off to follow the hard top away from the camp towards the oil fires that were only a mile or two away from the camp, but still very loud and bright. We were talking about nothing in particular and started joking about the unexploded ordinance that was likely on the ground where we were. At one point one of us picked up a rock and threw it out in to the desert, not knowing if we were next to a mine field or not. We were so stressed out that we kind of didn’t care if we would set off a land mine or not. However, as we waited for the rock to hit the ground we started to laugh, a maniacal insane sort of laugh. We enjoyed that so much they we continued to do it from time to time as we walked and talked about the things we had seen, done and expected to happen.
At one point we noticed some tracer rounds snaking up through the sky, headed towards us. It was a long ways off, but it was hard to tell just how far off it was due to the nature of the desert. So not being in the right frame of mind we just stood there watching the rounds come closer, fizzle out and... Well it was at about that point that GC said “If one of those rounds hits me I’m going to be pissed”.
“Me too” I replied, and we watched as more rounds snaked up into the air, headed our way. I grabbed up another rock and threw it in to the dirt near us hoping to hit a mine. GC started laughing as we turned our backs on the tracers, and continued our walk. It started to get very dark but our way was lit by the fires in the distance, and we continued to talk about whatever was on our minds. The scene was like something out of a movie. In fact the move that closely resembled that night was American Werewolf in London, where the main character and his friend are walking away from a small town out on the Moors. Those two friends had been given the advise to stick to the road and beware the full moon. I was relaying the movie to GC when I got to the part about sticking to the road. For us the road meant safety from land mines, unexploded ordinance and the fastest way back to the camp. Astonishingly, just as I told him this part of the movie we noticed that the oil fires had gotten very bright and had blinded us somewhat, when we looked down we realized we had wandered off the road and out in to the dirt, and just like in the movie, we could not see the road.
Standing still we turned away from the fires and waited a few minutes as our eyes readjusted to the light. With luck GC was able to spot our foot prints and then the road. Shielding, our eyes and laughing as we walked, we made it back on to the hard top, and walked back to the camp without incident. Whenever, I see American Werewolf in London I think back on that night, and how far over the edge the two of us had been and the return to sanity that we each had made.
copyright 2009 William T. Richards
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
The Adventures of Rich and GC: The Lost Boys
My Army buddy, GC and I got stuck in Dhahran, Saudi Arabia after desert storm had ended. We were left behind by our unit to drive our vehicles into storage when a spot opened up. For two weeks we "Languished" waiting for time to pass with nothing to do and nowhere to go. I must have stared at the ceiling of that convention center we were put in, for about 80% of the time I was awake.
That level of boredom plays severe tricks on the mind. Anyhow, one day I realized that I needed to do something to break the spell, so I got up and started to go for a jog.
I felt better.
Two days later GC was still where I had been, on his cot staring at the ceiling. I'm not sure why but I dragged him out of his cot and made him go jogging with me. After a few days he started feeling better as well. His sense of humor had returned and he referred to us as the lost boys. Specifically: “Rich and GC the Lost boys! You may not like us but your daughters will!” Once he said that, I knew he and I were out of the dark woods that our lives had become.
Although it seemed like an eternity, just a few days later we moved our vehicles to the last place we would ever see them, and then prepared to go home. Now our return was not uneventful either, but I’ll save those stories for another time.
copyright 2009 William T. Richards
That level of boredom plays severe tricks on the mind. Anyhow, one day I realized that I needed to do something to break the spell, so I got up and started to go for a jog.
I felt better.
Two days later GC was still where I had been, on his cot staring at the ceiling. I'm not sure why but I dragged him out of his cot and made him go jogging with me. After a few days he started feeling better as well. His sense of humor had returned and he referred to us as the lost boys. Specifically: “Rich and GC the Lost boys! You may not like us but your daughters will!” Once he said that, I knew he and I were out of the dark woods that our lives had become.
Although it seemed like an eternity, just a few days later we moved our vehicles to the last place we would ever see them, and then prepared to go home. Now our return was not uneventful either, but I’ll save those stories for another time.
copyright 2009 William T. Richards
Monday, April 6, 2009
Where did Willbo come from
So some of you might be wondering where I got the name Willbo.
I have Ken Dudley to thank for that. One day I visited him at his home when I was still in the Army and at the time wearing my uniform. I'm not sure if we were watching the movie Rambo or not at the time, but he made a connection with Rambo and me and the name sort of stuck.
He kept calling me Willbo, and still does from time to time. So as with anything repetitious, it stuck and grew on me.
copyright 2009 William T Richards
I have Ken Dudley to thank for that. One day I visited him at his home when I was still in the Army and at the time wearing my uniform. I'm not sure if we were watching the movie Rambo or not at the time, but he made a connection with Rambo and me and the name sort of stuck.
He kept calling me Willbo, and still does from time to time. So as with anything repetitious, it stuck and grew on me.
copyright 2009 William T Richards
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