Blatheration

Just so you know...

We have been rather busy around here for the past few weeks, so time on the internet is not much of a priority, but Mr. Smith would like all to know that after 4 years he has FINALLY passed his P.T. test.  That means that he may now someday get promoted.  Good Job, Mr. Smith.  Mr. Smithalso has not to my knowledge ever passed an Army Physical Fitness Test, but he is working diligently towards that goal.

In case anyone would like to send things like harmonicas (decent used ones, if you please) for the All PSYOP Marching Mustache  Harmonica Band, you may send them care of the following address:

Dr. Darren Lee

Bldg. 5403

c/o RTC East First St.

16 PSYOP BN

Ft. Dix, NJ 08640

Preferably in the key of C and G.  Herb, Mr. Pennyfeather and the boys thank you for your assistance.  Video to follow...eventually.

Thanky.

Live from the fabulous Four Points Sheraton in scummy Philadelphia, it is I, your humble correspondent.  Having secured a 3 day pass, Captain Pennyfeather and I have fled Fort Ticks for a less "tenty" environment.  He is waiting for his bride to arrive this afternoon, while Mrs. Doclee will not be joining the party until late tonight, because that is how long it will take her to get drunk enough to actually get on the aircraft.  If you infer from that that my little soulmate does not appreciate Modern Aviation, you are correct.  I actually flew in a Modern Aircraft with her once about 17 years ago and I still have fingernail marks in my forearm from it. But Mrs. Doclee is a "trooper", so will suck it up (the fear as well as the booze, I imagine) and arrive here to great fanfare sometime before midnight.

Training has been going just swimmingly, though our three day stay out at the Emerald Forest (All tent training area) has been extended by only 30 more days, due to a lack of available barracks space.  I find this curious, since I'm pretty sure they knew we were coming.  Personally I have nothing against tents except for the fact that it is practically impossible to secure.  All soldiers are issued an enormous amount of gear which they are accountable for and have to pay for if lost or stolen, but no way to lock most of it up when not in use.  Not a problem in itself, but there are Air Force Types in some of the tents, and they envy our cool gear and little bitty rifles.  Just saying...

Mr. Smith and Mr. Smithalso declined my offer to let them stay at the Emerald Forest to fill desperately needed sandbags and instead debarked with the rest of the traveling zoo that is our detachment (3622, for those of you keeping score) for a fun filled trip to the Big Apple. (Note the run-on sentence. Your sign of a quality 'blog).  I'm not sure of their plans, but am pretty sure it doesn't involve Midnight Mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral.  There was discussion of setting some groundhog traps in Central Park, but I doubt they will be issued licenses, being from out of state and all.  Mrs. Doclee and I will probably go visit an orphanage or two, then donate some blood (not orphan blood, either), then see if we can be of help at one of the area soup kitchens. Maybe we will also go to the zoo and look at some midgets.  Or we might just stay in the Hotel and practice combatives.  I will let you know. how it all works out.

Tragic Mustache update:  Mr. Herb, Coppertop and (of all people!) Captain Pennyfeather have removed theirs on the grounds that it will be easier to "score" without them.  If you know what that means, please enlighten me.  As it is they are being ostracized by all until the condition is rectified. 

Update

Alert reader of this blog, Mr. Codeman (aka. Idiot Nephew #6a) has chimed in:

More Interesting Mustache Facts

Feel free to submit your own.  I should be back tomorrow.  I am tired from my busy morning of saving America from the Forces of Evil.  Also, Mr. Smith and Mr. Smithalso need some personal attention in the form of a long run. 

Have you hugged your mustache today?

Having been relocated to high end digs here at Fort Ticks, I now have a semi-reliable locale from which to share the ongoing joy that is my life.  My new house is a tent that I share with a handful of other Hard Men.  All of which except for Mr. Catfish are adorned with outrageously out-of-regulation mustaches.  Mr. Catfish would no doubt love to own one, but he is apparently a victim of either inadequate genetic makeup or he has not reached puberty yet. Mr. Herb is planning on documenting the history of the mustache, while Mr. Gringo Vega will be cataloging the many uses of same. I am in charge of compiling a collection of Interesting Mustache Facts. (For example; Did you know that no soldier with an out-of-reg. mustache has ever been injured by enemy forces? Or that since mustaches create their own vitamins, mustache wearers live 1.5 times longer than PWMs (People Without Mustaches)? ).  I will vouch for the veracity of these facts because I make many of them up all by myself. Feel free to add your own in the comments section.  Vicki, I am counting on you.

Every deployment has some kind of running joke, but this one has altready morphed into the local culture.  I predict it will become a running joke of legend. Or it will, at least, until some crabby Sergeant Major gets wind of it. 

My crew, Mr. Smith and Mr. Smithalso have proven to be great troops.  They don't complain or argue about anything except MRE's.  Frankly if it weren't for the MRE thing, I would think something were wrong with them.  It also helps that Mr. Smith has already done a tour to Afghanistan and that Mr. Smithalso is still young enough to believe that I, his team leader know what I'm doing.  Hopefully this rotation will be over before he finds out otherwise.

Mrs. Doclee informs me that construction on the annex (domicile of one Miss Sunshine, formerly known as Mrs. Grumbles) continues, but has been experiencing stoppages due to rain, rain and still more rain.  It pains me to know that she has nothing to do. Primarily because that frees up time for planning other projects.  Miss Crabgrass is attempting to find an actual job so she can quit it to go back to school.  Intelligence reports that she has not wrecked a vehicle in nearly 180 days.  Good job Miss Crabgrass! Bicycles do not count, of course.

Looks like my time is up here for today.  Feel free to e-mail doclee462@yahoo.com or leave comments if you wish to participate in Mustache Fever '09.  Back soon.

Internet connection just barely had.

Having difficulty with the connection here at the training facility.  The connection is, well, crap.  Tune in periodically for updates.

I'll be blogging from Baghdad shortly.  Someone tell Iowahawk.  I need refreshments!