yeah my padre was usmc cambodia and laos. My upbringing was totally cold until I seized the reins of my own existence. They do teach a thing or two about how to coup d'état. They just don't expect a reversal, ever. I emancipated myself and never looked back, avoiding a family legacy of bomb squad duty and right-wing lawyering. I am a cold war waif, lol.
Wow, again. Son's of bitches, don't die in ditches, do they? Na, they aint that damn lucky. You is what you is, there aint no escaping that. Grow up and out perhaps, but good luck with that. Them spots still spots. You have you a story worth bellying up and tellin', for certain. I am just too damn done to be back at the Molly Pitcher. I am much better down here at the Hindenburg disaster site. Burn and crash, or crash and burn, my eight miles is how far from station Manasquan I am inland.
Wow. I might have Belushied myself if I had a larger dose of positive feedback. Self-destruction was the way we understood job well done. Our fathers all had survivor's guilt. Mine would have preferred to have died invading Japan, for certain, to having to deal with six children.
Truman dropped the bomb on his 18th birthday while they prepared on Parris Island.
Now that all the cruel and unusual crap is done, I do feel like a fortunate one, with not one stitch of survivors guilt. Would I wish the process I endured on anyone? Nope. But, I was privdleged no doubt, to get every correction I got.
yeah my padre was usmc cambodia and laos. My upbringing was totally cold until I seized the reins of my own existence. They do teach a thing or two about how to coup d'état. They just don't expect a reversal, ever. I emancipated myself and never looked back, avoiding a family legacy of bomb squad duty and right-wing lawyering. I am a cold war waif, lol.
dinky dau af. toodles!
Wow, again. Son's of bitches, don't die in ditches, do they? Na, they aint that damn lucky. You is what you is, there aint no escaping that. Grow up and out perhaps, but good luck with that. Them spots still spots. You have you a story worth bellying up and tellin', for certain. I am just too damn done to be back at the Molly Pitcher. I am much better down here at the Hindenburg disaster site. Burn and crash, or crash and burn, my eight miles is how far from station Manasquan I am inland.
if its any consolation, I once won a pulitzer by proxy for investigative writing. I aint no senator's son, naw. stay up playa!
Wow. I might have Belushied myself if I had a larger dose of positive feedback. Self-destruction was the way we understood job well done. Our fathers all had survivor's guilt. Mine would have preferred to have died invading Japan, for certain, to having to deal with six children.
Truman dropped the bomb on his 18th birthday while they prepared on Parris Island.
Now that all the cruel and unusual crap is done, I do feel like a fortunate one, with not one stitch of survivors guilt. Would I wish the process I endured on anyone? Nope. But, I was privdleged no doubt, to get every correction I got.
“If we do not master ourselves…”; thank you for the reminder.
You are quite welcome Linda, and thank you for reading, and commenting.