“Meditations”- Marcus Aurelius (translated from Latin by the Rich White Republican #RWR)

I have spent the last 6 weeks breathing life into a bloated corpse and now that I have nursed myself back to health I want to crucify the man I try to perfect but there is a tiny voice of dissent that cries out inside me. As every day passes I get stronger and healthier than the man I was while simultaneously I step closer to calvary. Why?… Why the fuck do I want to bathe in hooker sweat and hard narcotics…. Besides from the fact that it’s awesome fun and takes me to a place thats not of this earth. Being handsome, in shape with a pocket full of green backs is the American fucking dream #EmphasisOnTheFucking but why does the constant pursuit of happiness suck me dry? I guess that question is rhetorical because I don’t even think I want to know the answer and if faced with it I would turn away to join my Demons for a round of Bolivian Nose Coffee. #TasteTheFreshness If I really had to take a stab at the problem its not that life is short but many of the chapters that fill our book will come to an end. Which is not to say is the end of our story lets just say the end of Chapter 17, 21 or 35 #ItWasaVeryGoodYear and for me right now I think that I am stuck in a really awesome chapter. The problem is I feel like Im ashamed to be proud of my life or accomplishments. The pursuit of selfishness is somehow deemed vulgar even though there is enough sunshine at the beach for everyone. I do recognize that if I don’t prepare for whats next certain characters in my life wont stick around for the upcoming plot twist and for that I cant live entirely for myself. Although it is no burden to be surrounded by amazing people who can spread load the weight and provide in the merriment. The burden comes from me… I expect more out of myself and in a pursuit for perfection I like to occasionally set fire to everything and start over because who doesn’t enjoy a bonfire with their friends. I return to America in 2 weeks to set the world on fire. Luckily I have a goddess to help me tend to the flames.

Upon my return to Afghanistan I was sickened to hear that a terrorist attack took place in the European capital of Brussels. Coming days after the capture of the only escaped terrorist from the Paris attack. What I find most disgusting is that he was able to hide and move about freely in the muslim neighborhoods of Brussels after committing a horrible atrocity. I agree that not all muslims are terrorists but every muslim that saw that piece of shit and remained silent is guilty of aiding and abbeding a MURDERER. The blood of the French are not only on those “peaceful muslims” hands but also the blood of those whom died in Brussels as well.

Now is not the time to preach tolerance and peace although they are lofty goals they are not what it takes to achieve said aims. Its time we looked at the problem labeled what it is and followed through with a plan that will have a lasting peace.

The problem is that the West is locked in conflict with a culture that it has been at war with since its inception. The West has chosen to take the side of the liberal egalitarian. Welcoming people into their countries without making them adapt to their culture or faith. Where in the Arab world is that reciprocated? In the West women, minorities and homosexuals are allowed to live and pursue the lives they want to without state oppression. I repeat where is the Arab world is that much tolerance permitted?

The harsh reality of what Im driving at is there will not be peace between the East and the West but this is no Biggie and Pac bullshit. This is a battle for every freedom we hold dear and there is no such thing as half measures when concerning War. It takes tough men, tough decisions and follow through. The mess the next President inherits will be because of the way the current administration bumbled the middle east because when I left Iraq in 2008 it was at peace.

For all those who pray for peace your intentions may be good but you would be better served Praying for the following.

• Leaders who will make the right decisions and the resolve to follow through regardless public opinion.
• Pray not for the safety of the troops but rather they are actively engaged and equipped with the best possible equipment, training and support necessary to kill every last enemy to free men and women anywhere on the planet.

The men and women currently serving in the military did not enlist in the military during a time of war for safety. They traded their physical safety in hopes to Win peace at home and abroad. Its almost 13 years to the day since I enlisted in the Marine Corps infantry and my inspiration was the thought of every other generation of Americans hearing the call to Arms. How could I feign being deaf. Here I am now forwardly deployed no longer for Uncle Sam but my desire to Protect the Constitution and the American people has not changed one bit. I chose my path 13 years ago and I am happily still on it. I do not want peace as I am actively seeking war. If you are to Pray for me Pray not for my safety but for multiple targets, sound decision making and the accuracy of my rounds.

#Brussels #NowIsTheTimeForActionNotPrayers #USMC #Recon #OAF #Contractor #PewPew

Smiles, travel and a beautiful women is essentially the summation of my lifestyle but what provides to make that possible is isolation. That was acceptable until I found a woman I couldn’t be apart from. Which is why I have found an excuse time and time again throughout the last year to prevent me from going back to “work” because oddly enough Afghanistan is where I find peace. Im stripped away from all distractions and vices so I turn inward to develop myself professionally and personally essentially creating the perfect man just to crucify him when I return. In the past I have created so much chaos at home to welcome a return to being under arms again hungry to re-engage the enemy.

I was willing to say good-bye to my children time and time again because I could never be allowed to be the primary parent due to my gender. So my role with them has been to guide, teach and allow them to explore the planet and truly turn into the unique and beautiful people God intended them to be. While at the same time build a financial portfolio so that they will have the means to pursue any desire. I found myself in relationships with fiercely independent women who focused on goals as opposed to a shared future to shield me from deeper commitment. Unexpectedly, for the past 9 months I have shared my life with someone that has complimented me in every way and has inspired me to achieve dreams that I’d always before said “some day”. Now I find she is making my greatest dream of all become a reality “To find peace in America” and much like in war I need a team to accomplish victory. Im not saying she is my key to happiness but she is my mission objective and as long as I have a mission I will be successful.

One of my greater fears. Will she love the man I become? Since we’ve met Ive had Money, Freedom and a Job that all fueled an Ego that allowed for me to drapes around with my chest puffed out like a Rich White Republican. When I fully transition out of the Profession will I still be able to shine as brightly in her eyes? Its no hit on her but also a question of myself. Will I be a different man? Or will my Ego get the better of me so that I run back to the easy money. Essentially will I be comfortable being myself once I strip away all the things that make me… ME?

With all these questions I find whirling around my mind. I know one thing for certain. I have found someone who loves me and I would be an absolute coward if I didn’t try to “find my peace at home” to be with her.

When I was a teenager in the mid-90’s I worked with my grandfather renovating his investment properties at the Jersey Shore #WildWood. In that time I learned how to work with my hands as well as with my mind. The greatest lesson he ever taught me was how he explained the migration patterns of people and wealth. White flight and the commercialization of the suburbs is what killed cities and industrial centers in the 60’s & 70’s but the houses in the Burbs were made of sticks and the life span of the homes would be about 30 years before they became dilapidated. Where as the homes in the cities were made of stone which would stand forever and once the life span of the suburban homes ended there would be a re-urbanization of city centers.

Growing up in suburban Philadelphia I always thought of “the city” as exciting but dangerous. Now as an adult its a fucking joke. There are still “undesirable neighborhoods” (which is obviously code speak for black neighborhoods) but by in large it is a pretty safe place and in my travels this trend is pretty consistent with cities all across America. I mean neighborhoods where one could buy 10 dollars worth of crack are now home to 10 dollar cups of coffee. My question is what is the greater why? As in why the shift? It cant just be due to the quality of the homes that stood before. My theory is its not the quality of the home but the creativity of the people has changed. I feel that all city people are the same and certain cities draw a certain kind of resident just like how neighborhoods tend to have a certain type of feel. Case in point New York/ San Francisco are financial Hubs, LA/Nashville artists, Detroit/Philadelphia are rougher neighborhoods but people have a certain sense of pride when they call that home. No matter what certain cities will always attract a certain kind of person but what makes places hip are the people who work AND live there. Those are the ones who give that neighborhood or city a soul and when those people are priced out that edge or art finds a new place to call home.

My new home is San Diego and to use it as an example North Park, Normal Heights and Logon Barrio use to be ghetto as fuck but cheap to live in. They also had an established culture of their own which attracted poor artists. Now those neighborhoods are ultra chic and values have double or tripled. I know because I bought before the boom #RWR. The reason why is because artist are generally poor so they end up living in a shitty part of town but they are what gives that neighborhood the desirability. They don’t have money so they use their creativity to make there home desirable #Murals. The boom of hip-hop and turn-tablism is directly linked to the cutting of music programs to inner-city schools a concerning fashion thats due to people not have money to by gucci so they become their own designer label at a thrift shop. Its the People that breath life into what would otherwise be just a cultural wasteland… but wait here comes the Yupsters people who basically pay to live within the culture put don’t add to it. I don’t hate them I actually understand their presence they work a 9-5 to support a family and have an appreciation for art. They want to share that love and appreciation with their children but if they don’t contribute to the culture all they do is raise the rent prices. When I first moved to my neighborhood there was literally drug deals and prostitution 2 blocks south of my home… Now I have to travel at least a mile to enjoy the same vices thanks to these yupster phuk’s.

Now many cities are worried about the out pricing of their cities working class and the loss of culture. They rightfully should be because what created the Florence/Harlem Renaissance or the Seattle Grunge scene was not the geographical location itself  but the people who lived there and their ability to freely create art. The neighborhood will change and cities will constantly evolve and recreate themselves. The loss of one cultural center will only lead to the birth of a new one. Just remember you use to get a blowjob and Coke in Time Square now the best you can get is a handy from Mickey Mouse.

I spend the last hours of my time in Brazil with my girlfriend anxiously trying to saver every moment and embrace until it is time to say goodbye. This trip to America will only be for a week but we both know it is the prequel before the long good-bye. When we met we never expected to be where we are now, not just geographically speaking but in terms of the heart. What started as a summer romance which was only supposed to last until I went back to work or she headed back to Brazil has now blossomed into well… Im living in fucking Brazil for goodness sake and even though I’ve tried to stave off going back to work for as long as possible this quick trip is a precursor for the inevitable but if things are successful I’ll be able to find something which will offer me other opportunities that will keep us together because one thing I have learned when you are apart from the one you love you grow apart.

When the clock finally struck twelve and it was time to become a pumpkin she drove me to the bus station to catch the bus to the airport in Curitiba. As I walk around the airport Im emboldened by my new command of Portuguese that Ive developed over the last 2 months. Im by no means fluent but I can do the important stuff like order drinks and buy sleeping pills at the pharmacy in the airport. So washing down some pills with a couple of beers I slept like a drunk baby all the to Miami for a 24 hour layover. While in Miami I spent the day catching up with a friend who just got back to the states from a Afghanistan. We didn’t get into anything to exciting just dinner and a Bottle of Single Malt. The next morning had coffee with another friend of mine where we waxed philosophically and I got to congratulate him on being a new father. Then it was back to the airport for the final leg of my journey.

Upon touch down in Vegas I contacted my friend Susan who did me a favor by driving my car up from San Diego packed with clothes but most importantly my Fur Coat. Which at some point I should give a name because it has a personality of its own. Once I step into that pimp suit of armor I feel like a God damn lion. With that said Im not wearing Cecil I got this bitch in Afghanistan so in all likelihood its probably Lassie or some kind of Yack.

Now that Im properly dudded out Susan and I link up with the crew at the Venetian. I see my Brother Matt S. talking to some clean cut dude in his 50’s and upon introduction this old bastard asks me “Why Im wearing a coat like that?” my retort was “When I have a beautiful women on my arm I can wear whatever the fuck I want.” Then Matt says Beaux meet Rick Perry. Apparently the look of surprise on my face was a bit comical I mean as a Rich White Republican this mother fucker is royalty and in all truth a genuine guy. I actually felt like we had a conversation I wasn’t just handled like some asshole in a fur coat with some high end escort on my arm. After saving a little face the crew made our way over to the Range 15 party at Paris to see the trailer release of some Matt Best Zombie movie. Before the doors open there was a massive amount of Recon and Ranger bubba’s down at the bar just outside the entrance. Which is one of the reasons why I brought Susan and kept my girlfriend in Brazil because I don’t need to be handing out towels and water while people try to gang bang my girlfriend. Plus the primary mission for this trip was for networking which in this industry mostly happens after hours surrounded by hard drugs, drinks and morally casual women. We’re fucking Alpha-Dog’s and when we gamble its always with our lives because we control the odds and what substances we ingest.

At this point Im just going to have to push fast forward on the night because getting black out drunk will do that to you. The only highlights I can throwout are a Rhinoceros with an army helmut dancing with a couple of slootz, Susan finger blasting some girl on the dance floor and various other related shenanigans. Oh and the movie trailer… A zombie comedy movie with some B-list actors. Ill wait till it comes out on Netflix.

I found myself waking up on the floor in a house on the South Side of the strip with a slight headache. Knowing where that was going I did the most logical thing I could think of… Pound a beer and get a second to sip on. #HairOfTheDog because the hangover will never come if you stay drunk and the best way to avoid it completely is to slowly substitute water for beer as you gently return to earth. Im not the only one up at this time because I noticed that  there is some other movement in the house because apparently some dudes are heading to the range today to fire off a salty load of Freedom out in the Desert. #GunzAndBible I understand That Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms is not only a government agency but also a party but since I respect weapons to much to go shooting in the desert half lit I decide to pass.

After a little more time the famous Miguel Castle comes down stairs shortly after beating some 21 year old guts and informs me he has to head back to LA because he has been partying for 2 weeks straight and knows that one more week could be fatal. Hey kids every once in a while hero’s die too but before he heads out the door he gives me his kill 22 ring and his badge for Shot Show so we’re basically going steady now. I know you faggots are #Jelly. As the rest of the house is now awake Brady and Art decide to blow off the range  as well and head with me over to the expo. But before we head out the door we have to wait for Susan because the world always waits on beautiful women. When she is finally ready she said her hair smells funny. So I decided to give it an awkward sniff like I’m ripping a bong hit and I cracked the enigma… Lube… Your hair smells like lube Mary… So I guess its safe to say who the 21 year old that Miguel pumped out was.

I give Brady and Art a ride over to shot and park by that fake London eye and head into the convention. I have to link up with a hebrew buddy of mine because it was through his company I got several badges but it was a bit of an issue because for those who have never been to Shot Show its fucking massive. After receiving the badges we got a little hungry and headed over to Yardbird for lunch. We got hooked up proper in some private room which made us look and feel pretty important up until we saw the menu which had Fried Chicken, Waffles and Watermelon. #TheSection8Sampler after a few other jokes made we just bro-ed out in our party of 12 paid our bill and went our separate ways.

At this point I went to go meet up with Nate S., Matt S. and a couple other hitters in the cafeteria at the Venetian and set up logistics for tonight. Apparently Beyond was throwing some big to do where every half hour someone gets to crush a car with a tank. So we make our way over to my vehicle and revert back to our lance criminal days and make it fit somehow. While at the same time pondering whether or not we could shoot porno in the giant ferris wheel that I parked next to.

The Beyond party like every party at Shot was a sausage fest but the good news was there were a ton of strippers from the Spearmint Rhino the bad news was that it was fucking cold so they were bundled up like eskimos. Im not really a fan of large crowds and the thought of the new asshole every hour who gets to drive the tank might make a sharp left and start taking people out was always lingering in my mind. The good that came from the event was I got to bump into a couple of my boots that I mentored right before getting out both of whom are now over at Force company and doing good things. Upon seeing my boy King I saw 2 operator types that he was hanging out with so I assumed were fellow Recon bubba’s. Turns out they were “Navy SpecWar, no big deal.” I replied “Ahh… Yeah I know” the exchange at this point was a little weird because the one guy asked to wear my coat so I pulled out my pocket for him to let him know his place. After a little more awkward alpha dogging I just told the one guy I wasn’t going to play gay chicken with a sailor which he replied “Well we are the best at it. I’ve literally had that guys dick in my mouth.”

So that pretty much ended that conversation so I went surfing back in the crowd and found Joey from the MRF who hooked me up with a pass for the Crye party. So I grabbed Susan, Nate and King and headed over to South Point for that event. It was some weird island themed rave but it looked more like someone locked all the doors at Home Depot and someone put on a strobe light plus like every other Shot event it was packed with dudes but at least here the event was indoors so the strippers were dressed appropriate. Whatever the important thing was free booze… but wait you need tickets for booze. Well how do you get tickets? nobody knew so I went to one of the bar tenders who obviously didn’t give a fuck and he gave me a grip of them for nothing. I did a walk around the party to see if I could spot anyone but no bueno. So I come back to my crew and find King in conversation with this nerdy lookin’ black dude. Who apparently was some kind of pimp that arranges group sex parties. For a guy who doesn’t have a soul King’s ginger ass sure has morals and balked at the idea. Whatever I call that monica suspect now.

Once the party fizzled I was reminded that the AVN’s were in Vegas and at the Hard Rock. We didn’t get over to the Hard Rock until like 2-3 o’clock in the morning and the there was no real talent to speak of just a bunch of hookers and ghetto looking ass dudes so me Reppin my Fur coat like a mother fuckin Don I got mad love. If I had a nickel for every compliment I received I would have made 10’s of dollars. As the sun started to rise and Susan’s patience of being propositioned had ran out so we rallied the troops and went back to the harbor site and went down for couple hours.

The next day started the same as the one prior except with less sleep. I know I can go through all the minutia but I figure Ill skip to the good shit. The plan for tonight is make it a suit night “cause every girl crazy for a sharp dressed man” #Fact and tonight was the beyond wrap party which was held at their villa at the Mirage. This place I’m not going to lie was pretty baller fantastic with our own private putting green, heated pool/jacuzzi, 2 living rooms, bar 2 bedrooms each with their own sauna personal jacuzzi and a Motha fuckin bidet for all you fancy boys out there. All those enmities aside this party was catered and we had free booze. Special shouts out to the God-father and #MigFuel. This is the shit I came to Vegas for mother-frappin luxury with my boys and rubbing elbows with people who are where I want to be. I had a long conversation with the owner of #Beyond and we bonded on something all successful men have in common… divorce. After that I met Carlos M. who after hearing I was Recon wanted to introduce me to #RudyReyes but what he didn’t know is Rudy and I go back to doing Amphib-Ops at ChinaLake and have been known to stay up all night together doing Karate in the garage from time to time. Rudy was of course was everywhere and nowhere at the same time so I slipped into something more comfortable and joined Matt S. in the Jacuzzi. After a nice soak through on a robe and rocked the rest on the night like Hefner. Which turned out to be a hit especially with the chubby blonde bartender. But sadly once the clock struck 11 we all got pushed from the room by security because of blah, blah, blah. So we forced like 15 into a limo and went back to the Hard Rock in search of cocaine adventures with morally casual women.

As we were all on top of each other in the limo. The conversation drifted to all the usual wickets of “I fought it, I fucked it, I killed it.” Then I mentioned how “I was bummed that I could no longer say that I have killed someone more recently than beaten someone up.” That story goes as follow’s.

Last gunfight I was in was in 2008 and the last fight was 2006 but I decided to go home for Christmas back in Jersey last year and went drinking with my little brother at some bar sponsored beer pong tournament. My Brothers one friend had made it to the final round and it was after hours. I don’t know about you but the best thing to do at any sporting event is to talk shit. So I was hitting every kid playing with shit that wasn’t insulting per say but its all about the delivery. “Nice Shirt” sounds completely different with the proper inflection. So my little brothers friend is a member of the tribe so I said “Happy Chanukah” His team mate apparently took umbrage and responded by running his fucking mouth so I told him Id wait outside. About 15 min later he comes out with about 10 other people and as I walk towards him he is calling me a bitch and how I wont do anything and… Hadukon!!!!! I uppercutted him like RYU and but that bitch down like she bit a kid. After it was all said and done I was most angry at myself because I let some punk get inside my OODA-Loop and their goes my streak. Until about 2 months later I get a call from my little brother and he tells me that the kid I “Knocked the Fuck Out” now has Cancer. So it looks like the streak is back on once that #HangingChad falls.

Timing was perfect because once the story was done we got kicked out of the Limo and into the AVN’s. With it being earlier in the night the floor had some talent with such names like Teagan Pressly and Evan Stone. The last of which I fanned out on and got a picture. Dude is actually hella cool and was actually engaging in the conversation. When I got my picture he said I hope this doesn’t hurt your political Career #JAJAJA what a guy.  As great as that was nothing beats when Brady met a young black gentleman who gave us a riveting review of 13 HOURS.

Black guy-“Yo this 13 Hours is a true story about this place called Benghazi.”

Brady-“ What are you serious? No your full of shit I never heard of that place.”

Black guy-“ No dog real talk and there were these guys called G.R.S. and day was bad as fuck. Any way mad Nigga’s were trying to run up on the compound and “

Brady interrupts “Wait black people were trying to attack the compound?”

Black guy- “No not black people, Arabs.”

Brady- “I thought you just said Niggers.”

Black guy- “No, No, No not on some racists shit these.. ISIS fools were getting shot the fuck down by these GRS dudes.”

I tried to keep a straight face through all this but once the black guy left hilarity ensued on his behalf. After which the crew made friends with this I can only assume was a swinger couple who were trying to go upstairs with some coke slut but needed a key to the elevators. I only had so much patience for such fuckery and decided to head back to try and catch a little sleep because I did have big boy things to do the last day at shot.

Like be woken up seconds after going to sleep by someone trying to Catch a flight back to North Carolina. I wont mention names and I don’t really blame her it is my fault that I’m sleeping in the living room and I didn’t decide to go to bed until 5 o’clock in the morning. But Karma comes full circle because she missed her flight. At around 10 everyone was up and Nick K. wanted to by the crew Pancakes. We figured we’d go some place classy like IHOP because its International and Cosmopolitan. Before sitting down we had a friendly wager about the waitresses name Jessica, Daphne, Flo or Heavy Flo if she was a little plus sized. Turned out it was Anita as in Anita fucking dentist. #MethMouth It was really cool to meet and thank Nick for letting me crash the last few days and all the good he does with a “Project” he put together for the community. I don’t remember what Nick had going on the rest of the day but Art, Brady and I were sure of one thing. Today we wanted to be Mike Clancy.

I mean I already had his ring, badge and audio of Susan saying “fuck me Mike Clancy” #MyNewRingTone. But the crew and I figured shirts with “Call Me Mike Clancy” on them would make pussy fall from the sky and at least add a couple inches to our height both vertically and horizontally. So I turned to Yelp found a business and a couple hours later we were Mike Clancy. (PM if you want a shirt of your very own.) and we found ourselves back at the YardBird spitting game at this White washed black chick drinking bacon infused bourbon and meeting up with Jolene and her cousin the “Gunny” I don’t remember her real name. We made it all the way back to her house but I wont leave you in suspense nothing happened we just went for a walk in the woods that didn’t end in clown rape.  At this point it was helza late or early depending on how you want to gage time and the collective week of partying was starting to take its toll on me and I knew if I surrendered to the sirens call of sleep Id miss movement to Brazil. So I rallied the troops called a friend and was ready for an all nighter over at the Hard Rock that scene hadn’t changed much but I did see the great Jesse Jane who I introduced myself to as she was on her way to her room… But she didn’t give a fuck who Mike Clancy is so Mike, Mike and Mike. Decided to just sip beverages until it was time to bounce.

I ended up catching my flight totally strung out on awesome. In all truth a lesser man would have died also knowing that breaking my rule of no more than 72 hours in Vegas had almost killed me but Id be lying if I were to say that I wont brave Bat Country next year for a fresh run of shenanigans with my brothers at Shot Show.

In the end the best part of the whole week was the kiss I received from my girlfriend after I got back home to Brazil because home is wherever I’m with her.

Special shouts out to all my Brothers.

Never Above You, Never Below You, Always Besides You.

Reading Nietzsche’s “Will to Power” the 2nd section of the book he rails against Christianity or at least the “Church” while at the same time giving credence to my beliefs about the faith. It is a faith to find happiness/peace the change is within. Its funny in that his disposition about Christ is positive but his opinions about the faith and the church created by Paul are scathing. The one thing I read that puts my own “Come to Jesus moment” into perspective is how he compares Christianity to nihilistic decadence. In that when I was young and believed in the power of the state and race. I was not a Christian but a Neo-Nazi because of my desire for Strength, Power and Moral Authority. Once I realized that my nation didn’t give a shit about any of those things I turned to peace, understanding and forgiveness. That liberation from strength and embracing the meek was my way of falling on my sword. Which allowed my the decadence of forgiveness to live my life without the pursuit of an earthly struggle. Although I would be lying to say that I truly killed that which was inside me. It lays dormant waiting for my own resurrection by picking up the cross as a means to argue with the socialist intellectuals whom I can destroy with the true teachings of christ.

-Neither by deed nor in your heart should you resist him who harms you.

-You should make no distinction between strangers and neighbors, foreigners and fellow countrymen.

-You should be angry with no one, you should show contempt to no one. Give alms in secret. you should not want to become rich. You should not swear. You should not judge. You should be reconciled with foes; you should forgive. Do not pray publicly.

With that “Bliss” is not something promised: it is there if you live and act in such and such a way.

Strength Through Meekness and now that we have moved into a culture of a borderless international brotherhood where victimization gives you a higher seat at the table. The world has entered a race to the bottom. Where the most passive win but when true strength hides there in wait.  Red riding hood will see why grandma has such big teeth.

The day the world presents me with the opportunity to Kill the Christ within. The world will be at War.

Oct 23- I slowly slip in and out of a post coital euphoria semi consciously controlling my lucid dreams. At this point I don’t remember what I was doing other how I would record it. There was a weird sense of pride being entertained by the universe that exists between my ears as opposed to plugging into the one that makes us all slaves to ‪#‎Trump‬, ‪#‎Kardashians‬‪#‎TrendingHashtag‬. I imagine the state I’m in is where clever men wrote sonnets to the one they loved being emerged in something that you don’t want to share is a new kind of sin. Where people tell you of all the minutia of the day keeping something for yourself is seen by others as greedily hoarding it to yourself. The perception of normal is what we must perpetually push onto the grid for once an anomaly becomes present thats when an account becomes watched and once a “threat” is perceived to be legitimate thats when it disappears silently into the night. I suppose that will be my future no noisy bang or fiery conflict in an orgy of blood and guts but simply an inactive facetwat account.

Nov 3rd- Im beginning to want more of a detachment from the grid. I recognize my use is leaning on the side of addiction but what I’m looking for isn’t ‪#‎Likes‬ its something different. Burning through every newsfeed seeing waves of reoccurring shit. Refresh cant come fast enough nor can it be fulfilling. It all looks like desperation weather its validation of lifestyle, looks or opinion its the cry to be recognized and approved.

Nov 29th-The Noise the Noise the Noise is so god damn deafening. The constant beep, vibration or flash that brings you back to the grid. If someone sends me a message Ive got 5 different shackles telling me different master wants me. Don’t confuse what Im saying but every person you dance for by posting is your master and all you get for entertaining them is a comment or a like that has no tangible value. Unless you are one who is trying to wield power in this vapid Universe in a fight to be famous. But in truth I guess the dream to be envied is what people keep going for. To be envied on Facebook is the new A on your report card. I mean how else do you measure value or success in life?

Dec 10th- Im sure my masters who are reading this now are either wanting to climb deeper into my perceived insanity or break free of their own chains but make no mistake I am no Paul Revere nor am I Paul Blart. I honestly have no fucking idea of who I am. I just know that I haven’t done an honest days work in a year trying to bleed this train of imaginary 1’s and 0’s floating around the meta-verse until the server crashes.

The second your in right now- Happy little slaves is what we are and the velvet glove of oppression isn’t so bad after all. The anomalies are taken care of with drugs, alcohol and suicide. If you want to know why veterans kill themselves its because at one point they lived what they perceived to be very meaningful lives only to come home to the Vapid noise that drowns everything from creativity, happiness, pain we come home to an all consuming darkness. That our country is happily marching into while singing pop songs that we use to hate but they are from long enough ago that the feeling of nostalgia can take us to the time before all the noise

This is going to sound pretentious and douchey but last I checked that is the purpose of social media. Im not going to pretend that I know the secrets of the universe but I will not deny that I am constantly surrounded by hella rad people while jumping around the planet.These people and adventures may not show up on my net-worth but that is because their worth cant be measured by the white-man’s money.

So if you want to start investing in yourself follow these simple steps and you too can find yourself in the South of Brazil with an amazing person.

Step 1- Open a fucking book

If Jean-Paul Sartre has taught me anything it is “You can get Pussy with your Personality” and it is also an absolute fact that I met my girlfriend in a crowded club talking about Dostoyevski. In my experience in life you can be “Fat and Rich or Handsome and Poor but not Fat and Poor.” You can get philosophical and talk about how when you are hungry you have to stay fit to be fed and once you get fed you can afford to be lazy… what ever all I no is that if you are poor you cant afford to be fat and when your rich you can afford things that are pretty #TJ

Step 2- “If you want Greek Pussy you need to look like a Greek GOD.” – Gunny Stewart.

Words of Wisdom from my former Company Gunnery Sergeant. I don’t remember much else other than he was a stout mother fucker who ate people for breakfast but truer words have never been said. A body is earned through hard work and when people look at bodies that are achieved through effort it speaks volumes of the person and what they are capable of. What does your body say about you?

Getting laid aside… If people put as much time and effort as they did into there car’s and insert other material shit there would be a lot more sexy mother fuckers walking around. I enjoy living because my body allows me to do the things that others can only imagine. How you look is the movie trailer for your life If you look like shit no matter how good of a story you may have. People will just not be interested… SO LOOK AND BE INTERESTING

Step 3- DO INTERESTING SHIT!!!!

This is actually the easiest part. All you have to do is plan a trip. It can be to Europe or a neighboring city. It shows you have goals and are mission oriented leading up to the trip you can talk about what you want to do and after completion you can share what you learned or experienced. It also speaks volumes about who you are when you actually accomplish the shit you set out for.

Step 4- Be true to yourself and others

Some people are very particular about what goes into their body but don’t monitor what comes out. Long story short they read labels, fact check and are super health conscious but they lie, give false praise and say gnarly hurtful shit. What could help this is a solid conversation in the mirror.

That about sums it up. Just remember that the hardest part of any journey is that initial step. In all truth the best advice I can give to anyone who has never traveled is “BUY A TICKET AND TAKE THE RIDE” because once you get on that bus or plane the adventure has already begun

I miss the days when America’s “enemy” was President Bush as opposed to a real threat to our nation. If you didn’t serve in the military or had family that did your opinion really should have remained your own because the sacrifices that my friends and I made in Iraq were a waste. I have come to regret my service. Although I am proud of why I enlisted and the men I loved and suffered next to. I regret the fact that our sacrifices have been marginalized and made to be a joke by political talking heads and cowards of my generation who stayed behind. Those were the enemies that really lead to our withdraw even though they had no skin in the game. The thing Im most ashamed about now is I would go back to Fallujah tomorrow if ‪#‎GeneralMattis‬ or ‪#‎EricPrince‬ lead us to pacify the enemy because last I checked we were winning when I left.

I’ve kicked around a few idea’s about how I want to talk about today. Using a comedic, serious or informative take on my experience in the Marine Corps but I think I’m going to just give an honest expression of what the Marine Corps gave to me.

I didn’t finish school in the traditional sense I was living in San Francisco getting an education in Hydroponics and Turn-Tablism ‪#‎Scratchin‬ When the War in Iraq started. I didn’t argue the merits of how or why but neither did to many people in government. All I knew was that every generation of American’s before me heard the Call to Arms how could I feign being deaf. So I dropped out of school and enlisted in the Marine Corps where I resumed my education and received a Doctorate in Pain, Misery and Suffering. ‪#‎Recon‬

Pain… In my body, Its okay I like it there- Because as long as it resided in my mind and body it meant I was still alive and my friends and family didn’t have to endure a greater pain.

Misery… Being constantly reminded that Im worthless for the first year of my career. Never seeing women for 7 months at a time and going to summer Camp’s called Fallujah, Ramadi and Baghdad. Where we constantly fought with the rival campers.

Suffering… Watching brothers take their last breath while I continue to hold onto life with contempt.

There was beauty in my time in as well (Except none of it existed around Jacksonville North Carolina where I spent my first enlistment.) and an appreciation for all things in life. After learning and having an intimate relationship with Pain, Misery and Suffering life has taken on a different taste. My brothers may have only lived a short time comparatively to most but they lived every fucking day to the fullest. Where most never truly live for themselves at all but choose to die a little each day. All things considered Id rather live a short life and die by a bullet then celebrate 100 years of being crippled by an unfulfilled life.

Over the years people have asked me if I would do it all over again. Im not offended by the question but I try to impress upon those who ask that my service made me the man I am today and if going back meant I might not be standing here it wouldn’t effect my decision because freedom has a different taste for those who have fought for it.

On this November 10th 2015 I’d like to thank all of my Marine Brothers that await me in Valhalla.

Burridge
Snyder
Brown
Barbosa
Jacobs
Lundstrom
Medley
Sprotzoff
Prazinski
Stanton
Hefflin
Frazier