Expectations

Expectations

While talking to a potential recruit, the military recruiter said, "Exactly what kind of job are you looking for in the military?"

The high school kid said, "I'm looking for something with an enlistment bonus of about $20,000, where I won't have to work too hard, and won't have to deploy overseas.

The recruiter said, "Well, what if I could hook you up with a skill that allowed you to come straight in as an E-7, where you'll only work weekdays, and you can have the base of your choice and stay there as long as you want?"

The young recruit sat up straight and said, "Wow! Are you kidding?"

The recruiter replied, "Yeah, but you started it."

Memo from bin Laden

FROM:- bin LADEN, O.

SENT:- 0817 TUE 11 DEC 01

TO:- Cavemates

RE:- The Cave

Hi Guys, just a few reminders and notes;

We've all been putting in long hours but we've really come together as a group and I love that.
Big thanks to Omar for putting up the poster that says, "There is no 'I' in team." as well as the one that says, 'Hang In There, Baby.'. That cat is hilarious.

However, while we are fighting a jihad, we can't forget to take care of the cave. And. frankly, I have a few concerns:

First of all, while it's good to be concerned about cruise missiles, we should be even more concerned about the scorpions in our cave. Hey, you don't want to be stung and neither do I, so we need to sweep the cave daily. I've posted a sign-up sheet near the main cave opening.

Second, it's not often I make a video address, but when I do, I'm trying to scare the most powerful country on Earth, OK? That means that, while we're taping, please do not ride your scooter around in the background. - Just while we're taping though. Thanks.

Food. I bought a box of Cheetos recently, clearly wrote "Osama" on the front, and put it on the top shelf. Today, my Cheetos were gone. Consideration - that's all I'm saying.

Finally, we've heard that there may be American soldiers in disguise trying to infiltrate our ranks. I want to set up patrols to look for them. First patrol will be Omar, Abdul, Muhammad, Akbar, and Dave.

Love you lots.

Osama

About.com

Country Folks in the Army

Mr. and Mrs. Braithwaite Backus,
Bald Buzzard Ridge Mountainville, KY

Dear Ma and Pa:
Am well. Hope you are. Tell Brother Walt and Brother Elmer the Army beats working for old man Minch. Tell them to join up quick before all the places are filled.
I was restless at first because you got to stay in bed till nearly 6 a.m.( but am getting so I like to sleep late. All you do before breakfast is smooth your cot and shine some things -- no hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay. Practically nothing. You got to shave, but it is not bad in warm water.
Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc., but kind of weak on chops, potatoes, beef, ham steak, fried eggplant, pie and regular food, but you can always sit between two city boys that live on coffee. Their food plus yours holds you till noon, when you get fed.
It's no wonder these city boys can't walk much. We go on "route marches," which, the Sgt. says, are long walks to harden us. If he thinks so, it is not my place to tell him different. A "route march" is about as far as to our mailbox at home. Then the city guys all get sore feet and we ride back in trucks. The country is nice, but awful flat.

The Sgt. is like a schoolteacher. He nags some. The Capt. is like the school board. Cols. and Gens. just ride around and frown. They don't bother you none.
I keep getting medals for shooting. I don't know why, the bull's-eye is near big as a chipmonk and don't move and it ain't shooting at you, like the Higsett boys at home. All you got to do is lie there all comfortable and hit it, you don't even load your own cartridges they come in boxes.

Be sure to tell Walt and Elmer to hurry and join before other fellows get onto this setup and come stampeding in.

Your loving son, Zeb

P.S. Speaking of shooting, enclosed is $200 for barn roof and ma's teeth. The city boys shoot craps, but not very good.

Curtesty of: http: About.com

Watch Out bin Laden, We May Be Crazier Than You!

To those extremists that perpetrated this crime against our nation, I have a warning for you. There are those of us who look at your actions as irrational, twisted, and completely inhuman. By all measures, what you have done can only be seen as insane. I have news for you. We're more nuts than you, and it should scare you s***less.
You may think that when you die for your cause, you go to Paradise with 72 virgins, can leave reservations for 70 members of your family, all your sins are forgiven, and you sit at the side of Allah. Big deal.

We had 39 guys who rented a Beverly Hills mansion, cut off their nuts, built a web site, and proceeded to poison themselves to death to hitch a ride with aliens out on the Hale-Bopp comet.

You shoot guns into the sky to celebrate victories over enemies, and people are killed by the bullets raining down on them. We not only do this for New Year's Eve in some cities, but we burn houses down, tear up streets, loot and sack our stores, and beat our selves senseless when our sports teams win championships. Sports teams!

We made a sequel to Police Academy 5.

We gave an award for singing to two guys who never even sang.

We put little sweaters on dogs.

We shot John Lennon six times and didn't even aim for Yoko Ono.

We think Elvis is still alive.

We put Braille on drive-up automatic teller machines.

We think that a simple button on a web site that says "Do not click if you're under 21" will do anything but cause a person under 21 to click on it.

We take a large chunk of the island on which those buildings you destroyed sat and pretend that it isn't a part of our country after all, let people fly in to our airports that we want to kill, drive them in limousines to speak against us on this "pretend territory" land, let them drive back to our airport, and let them fly them back home without a scratch.

We sell hot dogs in packages of ten and the buns in packages of eight.

We can't even decide if pitchers should have to bat for themselves or not. All those baseball fields we've got. none of them are even remotely the same size.

We gave millions of dollars to a guy that told us that God was going to kill him if he didn't raise enough money. When he didn't get enough money, he didn't die. So we gave him more money in celebration of the fact that God didn't make him die.

We've managed to keep the formulas for Coca-Cola and Kentucky Fried Chicken secret for decades, we encrypt the most banal communications on our Information Superhighway, and yet we given away our most important nuclear secrets to the Chinese and Russians at the drop of a hat.

And yet, with all this on the A-1 Psycho balance sheet, you still think you're more nuts than us that this won't result in your complete and utter annihilation? One way or another, your way of life will be over, period.

Freedom's kind of a crazy, kooky, nutty thing when you look really close at it and all the bizarre and loony things that can result from it, but it's better than any other ideas anybody else has come up with. It's been that way since 1776, and built to last no matter how insanely we try to screw it up on a daily basis.

We are even so nuts and ruthless enough as a nation to start insanely tearing at those of ourselves that even remotely resemble you in such rancorous, deplorable, and angry ways that will make you wonder if Allah has enough glue to piece enough of you back together for a flesh paperweight in Paradise.

We may not know where you are now, but when we do I guarantee you that the majority of our high school children will still have no idea where on the globe where you are or where you will end up being buried. But we will send them anyway, and we will allow those of them that went into the armed services because they didn't manage to get into college *still* rain down Hell and fire on your worthless hides. It will all come down on you, because we're nuts enough to give all four of our branches of military services extremely powerful and deadly aircraft even though only one of them is actually called the Air Force.

Picking a fight with the most insane nation on Earth with the hope that your message and influence will spread throughout the world, well, that's just downright stupid.

Curtesy of: About.com

Sunday Military Humor

A D.I.'s Rules for Dating His Daughter
By Rod Powers, About.com

Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure not picking anything up.

Rule Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.

Rule Three: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose his compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.

Rule Four: I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.

Rule Five: It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is "early."

Rule Six: I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.

Rule Seven: As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process that can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?

Rule Eight: The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka - zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which features chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.

Rule Nine: Do not lie to me. On issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.

Rule Ten: Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy near Hanoi. When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit your car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car - there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.

Sunday Military Humor

Army Special Forces Vs. Marines
By Rod Powers, About.com


A marine recon platoon was on patrol when the lt. noticed a lone special forces soldier standing on a hill top in their area. The lt. told two of his men to go take out that man.
They promptly ran as fast as they could toward the sf soldier. Just before they got to the top, the sf soldier ran over the other side of the hill. The two marines followed. For the next few miniutes there were bloody screams and dust flying in the air. Then as quick as it had started, it stopped and the sf soldier came up on the hill top. He brushed off his bdu's, straightened his beret, crossed his arms and stood there looking at the marines.
The lt., pissed, called for a squad to go get that sf soldier. They promptly ran as fast as they could toward the sf soldier. Just before they got to the top, the sf soldier ran over the other side of the hill. The marine squad followed. For the next few miniutes there were bloody screams and dust flying in the air. Then as quick as it had started, it stopped and the sf soldier came up on the hill top. He brushed off his bdu's, straightened his beret, crossed his arms and stood there looking at the marines.
The lt. was really hot now. He ordered the rest of his platoon to attack the sf soldier. Determined that the recon was far superior to the one sf soldier they had blood in their eyes as they ran up the hill.Just before they got to the top, the sf soldier ran over the other side of the hill. The marine's followed.
For many miniutes there were bloody screams and dust flying in the air. It continued and continued. Finally there was one lone marine crawling back to the lt., all bloody and beat about the head and shoulders. His bdu's were torn, cuts were all over his body. The lt. asked for a sit.rep.
The lone marine, bloody and beaten replied in a forceful and fearful voice "Sir, run, its a trick. There are TWO of them!!"