Whelp It’s Been Fun

Greetings Me Droogs N Droogettes!
Man, The Green New Deal.  I thought that shit was -gone-.  Then, this A.M. I open up the Daily Fail and find this:

“The science is undeniable.”
What. The. Fuck.
Man, hope you like mud huts, and walking.  That or living in MegaCities like in Judge Dredd.  
The Green New Morons… I love how Slo is doing things he won’t even live to see.  

At this point, I can’t even really start one of my usual rants.Phil at BustedKnuckles is right.  Self Preservation is key at this point.  Might have to start going non-poly-ticks for a bit.  Unless something extreme happens, I’ma going to stick to guns, babes, and funny but true stories from Iraq and Affy.

Because it’s starting to wear on me.We can’t really do anything.NO ONE is coming to rescue us
This’s a lifeboat here, and all we got is each other.  Constantly being reminded of the futility of poly-ticks and their Masters, our wannabe masters… None of them have an idea as to what’s coming.

Me?  I’m going to face shit with my usual humor.  The new rifle should be here in a week or so, and I got confirmation of shipment on the PSO scope from Russia… I was actually worried for a bit, (still am to be truthful) that the bullshit that Slo INC is pulling with Ivan would cause me downriver consequences… I mean it is a rifle scope and military gear… who the fuck knows what the sanctions really say as no-one ackchullally reads that shit, leastways the fine print.

Tell ya, I’ll be pissed if’n something gets hemmed up.  Which also leads me to this.  Seems that the scope I ordered, when I ordered it, there were 11 in stock, then 10 after mine.  Guess a bunch of y’all went out and bought them too.  One of y’all left a comment that they went to look for one theyselves, and they were all Sold Out!!!  I emailed the company, who wrote back saying they read my poast (I included a link) and they wanted to know how the AR-10 dealt lead with their scope, as they haven’t heard of anyone trying that before.  No word on any discount tho for the shout… kinda disappointed in that.

Throw me a bone will ya?

So, Spawn #1 is coming over tonight, I’m going to further his skills in loading some .45ACP.  I was in Bass Pro the other day doing a peek at the ‘stuff’ they had… All I can say is Wow… overpriced, no stock, and ambivalent zero-knowledge workers.  At the weapons counter no less.  I supposed $10 an hour, you get what you pay for.  They had, count ’em, 4 boxes of boolits for reloading… 4 boxes in the entirety of the store.  One of which was .45ACP

Hornady FTX… $35 a box for 50.  Not too shabby.  That’s the normal going rate for those, and without the Shipping and Handling IF you can find them online, that’s not bad.  So of course as you see I snatched them up, leaving the lonely 3 remaining odds n’sods… .243 was one of them, the others I don’t recall, but they were odd men out in caliber.  

I still (thankfully) have half plus bag of brand new 100 pieces of Winchester Brass.  Got the bag right before all retail-hell broke loose.  That was when I got a shit-ton of ‘stuff’ and Wifey was pissed at the time.  Now?  Not so much.  All I needed to do was show her the going rates on brass, primers and powder NOW and man, she’s a happy girl, now knowing I saved a boodle.

That and a few weeks back, I quit drinking.  Not as in ‘cut back’ but dried-the-hell out cold turkey.  Realized that I was spiraling, so Wifey told me to take some time off, and use the cash on my preps.  Amazing how $50 a week helps.

That and dunno if I mentioned it, but I ALSO quit smoking AGAIN after quite a spell.. been 7 months so far.  I’ve smoked long-term off and on for 30? years?  I quit for long periods of time when things are mellow and good.  Its when the shit hits the fan that I light up.  Iraq, Kuwait, Afghanistan… under fire = Shmokey-Shmokey Time for the Big Country.  Divorce too.  Now that all that shit is behind me, I needed to cut down. Especially when Sapper went and picked me up a pack… when he came home, he told me that was the last pack he was buying me on his tab, as it was like $9 a pack!  WAY too mucho dinero, so I quit.

Which increased the booze use for a coping mechanism… hence why I stopped, as it was costing me cash and stress.  So, now, back to cleaning up, getting in shape and whatnot.  Funniest part is despite the Lung Cancer, I never had an issue with the Cigs… point in fact, the Cancer was definitely burn pit/depleted Uranium caused.  My cancer Doc (non-VA) kept the toooomah and sliced, diced and fileted that fucker.  Said that when they ran it through the spectrometer or whatever, they ended up having to treat it, and the equipment as a radiological hazard… very low level, but still my shit was a glow-in-the-dark airbag  

Chemlight anyone?

Not news to me though… I had warned them. In 2006 I came home between contracts, and out-of-pocket paid for a “Beta Particle Test” wasn’t cheap. It’s used to detect radioactive particles in Urine, I.E. your carcass…”A urine sample measured on a liquid scintillation counter can indicate whether the worker has taken some radioactive material internally. Nearly 100 percent of some beta emitters are excreted in the urine; for others it may be just a few percent.” 

I had been told about it by my PCP who suggested it.  Had to collect like a week and a half, two weeks of piss in a BIG jug and keep it in my beer fridge in the Garage.  Both Spawn, very young at the time, were warned firmly NOT to touch nor drink Dada’s “Apple Juice” under dire warnings.

Neither Cool, Nor Refreshing.
So, long of the short and $1500 large later, they came back with what I thought.  I was a walking talking Rad-Count.  Stayed that way for a while too.  In fact, no bullshit, in 2005 I had a ‘minor incident’ so to speak which pegged me to get tested.

Y’all may know (or not) that in September of 2005, the 14th Specifically, In Baghdad, my house got blowed the fuck up.  I went to work 15 minutes early which kept me from getting vaporized, as the round hit -right- where I would have been standing.

The round came in at enough of an angle that it missed the ‘bunker’ (or what they called a bunker back then) and hit the (as facing the front door) right side wall where it detonated.  62mm Chinese is what they found out later.  They wouldn’t let me keep the tailfins…  When it hit, well…

Blew the shit out of -everything- in the crib.  The door to my right is my wall locker.  That’s normally where, with the door, just like it is I -should have- been standing.  I’m a bit forward of the giant ass hole in the floor.  all them shrapnel holes in the locker door?  Right where my nugget woulda been IF I had been on normal schedule.  I wasn’t because I was fucking with someone.  Had this dood at the office who expected us to be 15-20 early every. single. day.  He wasn’t my boss, just a retired Warrant Occifer with an overwhelming sense of “in command” and didn’t realize we’re contractors man.  Clock watchers.  I ain’t getting paid, I ain’t playing.  However, he kept fuckin’ with ALL of us…

So I went to work early
 And Lived To Tell About It.
Not going into any other philosophic issues on it, but this… I got sent home shortly after.  A bit of a rest cure to get my headspace and timing back.  Problem was, my gear, and me, and well, everything, it was covered in residue.  Flew MilAir to Frankfurt, then Xferred to the Civvy side.  Now, as I’m clearing security, (of course me) got pulled for ‘secondary screening’… and of course, I set off every. single. alarm. in the place.  The Kraut who did the swipey wipes on me, my gear (laptop specifically) had zero clue, and seeings how Krauts generally have their sense of humor excised through surgery at a young age, this mook hit the panic button.

The reason I bitch was I wasn’t exactly looking like your ‘standard’ traveler.  I was wearing US Issued 3 Color DCU bottoms, as ALL my clothes had been colandered.  I was literally wearing the -only- t-shirt I had left (the one in the picture) Carrying a very dirty 3 Color DCU rucksack, to which I had a Old-Fashion Kevlar Helmet with 3 Color DCU cover on it, and Body Armor strapped to it.  I hadn’t bathed in 4 days, and honestly, I didn’t give a fuck.  The Kraut Version of an Airport SWAT Team deployed, surrounded me, and my fellow travelers freaked, and I just stood there, tired, and more and more bemused. 

I had expected something like this though.. My luck tends to lean in very very good ways, but I do tend to get the fickle finger of fate fucking my ass on occasion.  I figured this was one of those moments, and decided getting attitude wasn’t the route to go.  The Head Kraut came up, and looked all Gestapo-ey, to whit I looked at him, busted a big grin, and hit him with “Wie Gehts Fritz?  Wie wird es hängen?”  That caught him off guard a bit, and he laughed… asked me if I spoke Der Cherman, told him ein kleines, a we ended up in Der English.  I was prepped tho… Had me paperwork signed by the Head General and staff from MNC-I attesting to that no, I wasn’t carrying any explosives, but that I’d been in a close call, and that IF I set off the detectors, please don’t jail the poor bastard, he’s been thru enough. 

The Krauts, after perusing all the documents, making the appropriate calls and whatever, I got cut loose, but the thing that tripped me was that the Head Fritz told me the reason they freaked so hard, was amongst all the explosive residue, I had inadvertently set off like ALL the radiological monitors for dirty bombs in the A.O.  seems they were tracking me from the moment I stepped in, and intercepted me in the sterile zone intentionally.  Probably because I didn’t get a chance to wash the four-day-funk and dust from my carcass, which after I took care of.  I had planned this… two days in the secure area of the Frankfurt Airport was a nice break, but thats how that went
So, long term was to get checked, and sure enough, I was a glowy like you read about.  Tell ya what, that’s this generation’s Agent Orange… nevermind the Burn Pits, the Radiological Damage is going to be showing later.  Trust me on that, and like AO, they’ll nevero admit it until most of us are dead and buried.
Fuck, I ramble.  Gotta Poast, More Later I Remain The Intrepid Reporter
Big Country

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By BigCountryExpat

Fuck you if you can't take a joke. No one gets out alive so eat me.

5 comments

  1. Glad I’m not the only one tired of the news. I gotta keep up with a lot of the shit because I’m the only one connected to the “normal” news and not MSM. Your insight and stories give me a pause and reprieve from all the doom and gloom shit I read. Keep up with the stories, I love them. And take a break from the bull shit. That negativity can pull you down hard and quick. I would hate for you to quit all together, you show there are still some people out here with the heads on straight and can think.

  2. I took my own rad gear over with me. KI4U.com sold an all-in-one kit with CDV700 meters, dosimeter pens, and a keychain detector. I never detected anything other than a few clicks at a tank graveyard, but they probably didn’t have as much nasty stuff up north as they did down south.
    Then burn pit, on the other hand, fouled the air with unknown nastiness and frequently drifted toward the main living area of the FOB. I used an electrostatic air filter which was black with gunk every day when I wiped it off.
    I also heard a lot of troops who passed through old Russian bases in Central Asia were often living on top of toxic waste and radioactive crud and the DOD knew and ignored it.

    1. My dad is 93 years old, he saw combat in WW2, Korea, and Vietnam. He finished up his 25 years of service as a First SGT with the 25TH I.D.

      He is still fighting with the VA to this day, to try and get benefits for his exposure to agent orange during his last combat tour in Vietnam.

      At his current age, I’m thinking he’ll die first, before the VA ever admits that all the health problems he developed after he got out of the service came from his exposure to agent orange.

  3. The Tragically Hip song “Nautical Disaster” (Dieppe Raid) image of fingernails on the hull and heading for home, hits whenever there’s “news”. You are the Captain of this lifeboat.

    Thumbs up on the living clean!

    Went to school with kids who’s parents worked at snuffing out the “Bat signal” from an old Manhattan project plant. 8th grade science teacher liked to let kids play with an old CD counter. Bunch of the kids would make it scream “tilt”. (He made them sit in the back.) Wondering if they made it with the Cancer or if the TSA got them.

    Uncle got Leukemia after his second tour.

    As long as either of us don’t get hit by a “Meth lab” strike I’ll be here reading.

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