The Life and Times of an Idiot

OldDevilDawg said:
I woke up one time about 4am wrapped around the front passenger tire of my best friends car. Hugging it like a fat chick. I was 17 and if he had drove off from the party because he couldn't find me, I would not be here to tell this story.
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I woke up one morning in my friends front yard as he came out the next morning to go to the ship.. apparently I left his trailer in Jax Florida and only made it a few steps.. trouble was, I passed out either in or very near an ant bed.. I had hundreds of ant bites all over my body.. he just laughed and said, I guess my party was a success..
 
after boot camp, I stayed in San Diego for about 6 months for school.. during that time, I learned what acid was.. who knew a little square of paper with a pic of snoopy on it could fuck you up totally for 14 hours lol..
in San Diego, the navy base (RTC) and the marine base were side by side separated by a fence,, we used to feel sorry for those jar heads cause while we marched everywhere, they ran.. anyway,, both bases were very close to an airport.. and those big planes taking off or landing were very loud..
One night we decided it would be a great idea to take some acid and jump the fence at the airport and lay down just off the end of the runway and get a close up view of the planes takiing off and landing. this was obviously way before 911 and the airports were not as locked down as they are today..
after the first plane landed just over the top of us.. we were all deaf and had shit ourselves and were running from a jeep filled with security..
believe it or not, we just made it back over the fence when they caught up to us and the cuss fight started..
we did not go to jail that night,, got away with it.. but it was a night I wont forget.
 
Bama Believer said:
after boot camp, I stayed in San Diego for about 6 months for school.. during that time, I learned what acid was.. who knew a little square of paper with a pic of snoopy on it could fuck you up totally for 14 hours lol..
in San Diego, the navy base (RTC) and the marine base were side by side separated by a fence,, we used to feel sorry for those jar heads cause while we marched everywhere, they ran.. anyway,, both bases were very close to an airport.. and those big planes taking off or landing were very loud..
One night we decided it would be a great idea to take some acid and jump the fence at the airport and lay down just off the end of the runway and get a close up view of the planes takiing off and landing. this was obviously way before 911 and the airports were not as locked down as they are today..
after the first plane landed just over the top of us.. we were all deaf and had shit ourselves and were running from a jeep filled with security..
believe it or not, we just made it back over the fence when they caught up to us and the cuss fight started..
we did not go to jail that night,, got away with it.. but it was a night I wont forget.
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Yeah....acid. When I was at MCAS Kaneohe Bay in the early 90s, the neon lights in Waikiki were fucking AWESOME on a good trip. Then one Sunday night after a couple of hits, I realized that I had to go to the rifle range the following morning. I was scared to death checking my M-16 out at the armory at 5am. Then....there I was on the 200 yard, locked and loaded, and still tripping my balls off. Good times, man, good times.
 
Before I post about my first refit in Scotland, I need to tell a short story about our first run coming out of the yards. It was a DASO run complete with ORSE and WTEP tests. Basically that was a run where we got certified to operate our reactor and carry torpedoes and ICBMs. We had to earn keys to the car so to speak. We left Groton, CT and went to Charleston, Port Canaveral, then went to the Caribbean for testing and war games in our AUTEC range.

For some strange and vague reason, my Chief decided that he did not like me. It doubt it was because I went to a Whitesnake/Motley Crue concert the night before we went to sea and came back aboard wearing one shoe, swimming shorts and a tee shirt … Hartford PD made me buy the shorts and shirt before I left the concert and went into "their city". I also doubt the reason he didn't like me was because I was drinking beer at 0900 during two barracks inspections and had nothing but beer packed top to bottom in the refrigerator and liquor in the freezer. It damned sure wasn't because of me and a buddy getting kicked off that Navy island in the Caribbean ... that happened later. It was probably just a conflict of personality.

Anyways, we were in Port Canaveral and got liberty. A buddy of mine, a decade later I was his best man, from Arkansas decided to go with us. He was a red headed country boy, an incredibly intelligent by the book kind of guy that had never had a drink of alcohol in his life. He wasn't religious but just decided not to drink until he became of age. So we go to Daytona Beach to visit the Doll House. He got to feeling out of place because he was drinking Cokes and asked me what drink should he try. I told him I would get it and went and talked to the bartender and got him a Fuzzy Navel made with half the normal alcohol. I tipped well.

Jerry said that it was a great drink and started pouring them down. After the first one, it was regular mix for the next dozen or so. We had to carry him not just back to the boat, but down a ladder through a 33 inch diameter hatch … on my shoulders. It took five of us to get him on the boat and into his rack.

Now our Doc was the type that had no mercy. He would not give anyone aspirin for a headache if it might be due to a hangover. He would say you made the choice, live with it. He diagnosed Jerry with alcohol poisoning and would come to his rack to give him vitamin shots twice a day. We had to take Jerry soup and water, feed him in his rack and drag him to the head. He could not walk for a week so we had to stand his watches and do his collateral duties. Jerry survived but in spite of that IMHO our Chief blamed me.
 
My first refit in Holy Loch, Scotland was a rough one. A refit is basically when the other turns the boat over to you, you have to do all preventive and corrective maintenance for the equipment your division owns in about a month. A-Gang had more systems than any other division and were always understaffed. Plus you had to stand watch, maintain quals and do your collateral duties. During refit, we never went to our racks and mealtime was a decision … catnap or eat. Occasionally you would let a buddy know your hiding space and disappear for two or three hours but that meant you were sleeping outboard the hydraulic accumulators … you had to crawl into a space that could not be seen from three feet away and wear earplugs. In my entire military career, the sweetest words I heard was "Set normal underway watches" because that would be the first time I was in a rack in weeks.

With just three days of refit left, it was decided we would get liberty for the first time. So at 1800 I was headed out to the liberty launch(we were tied to a tender in the middle of the loch). As I passed my Chief, I told him I would need help topside about 0230, which was the last liberty boat time of the night. He laughed. Okay, just don't say I didn't give fair warning.

Now Tennents Ale on draft was the best beer I have ever had. For three more quarts and the fish n chips, I would fly back over and do one more run on a submarine. At 9% ABV, three would put on your ass, or as I called it, leave you seating impaired. Only through years of hard work and practice was I able to drink in this condition. Served at room temperature, they went down like sweet tea. My mouth is literally watering now, some 30 years later, just writing about it. Let's just say that I drank all I could handle plus a few.

We get back to the pier about 0130 and I know I am already in trouble and there is no way I can be sober by 0630 quarters and am going to take an ass chewing from my Chief. I used my best available judgement and decide that my chief is going to have to earn the right to stand in front of me for that, There was a little snack/news stand at the pier so I buy and eat a half dozen pickled eggs.

We had a short rain shower that night and when I got to the boat everything was wet. Now you always had to burn whatever clothes you took on a run because of the amine smell soaked into everything, was horrible and you couldn't get it out. So I was wearing a pair of Reeboks that were falling apart and slicker than bat shit. We had one set of stairs on the boat and they were made of stainless steel. On my first step I fell and basically went down the stairs upside down. My pants button gave way so I was flying them at half mast while going commando. About the time I got to the bottom of the stairs upside down and naked, my Chief and Division officer rounded the corner. My naked, drunk upside down ass hit my division officer chest high and I pinned him up against the freeze box door. Damned near knocked him out. I get up and while trying to pull my pants up, looked at my Chief and reminded him "I told you I was going to need some help".

I get just enough sleep to pass myself off as hungover instead of drunk, but I reek of beer and looked like I was dressed by Hellen Keller … wrinkled used dungarees, no gig line, belt missed loops, and unshaven. Other than that I had a real GI look to me. Chief decides to chew me out in front of the division. I pissed him off with the most basic of tactics … I smiled. Every time he paused, I would agree with him. His face was a red as humanly possible when he stepped up to mine. That's when I tried to ease one out. I damned near shit myself with this mixture of pickled eggs and Scottish ale. It really was a paint peeler, my own eyes watered and I almost puked. He did, all over me.

I have to give it to my Chief. He lent me to deck division that day and I found myself in a crawl space between the superstructure and the hull with a needle gun, supposedly to chip paint. It was a confined space that I could not stand, sit or turn around in. There was no ventilation other than me. I would fart and puke , fart and puke, shit and puke for twelve hours.
 
batchaps4me said:
My first refit in Holy Loch, Scotland was a rough one. A refit is basically when the other turns the boat over to you, you have to do all preventive and corrective maintenance for the equipment your division owns in about a month. A-Gang had more systems than any other division and were always understaffed. Plus you had to stand watch, maintain quals and do your collateral duties. During refit, we never went to our racks and mealtime was a decision … catnap or eat. Occasionally you would let a buddy know your hiding space and disappear for two or three hours but that meant you were sleeping outboard the hydraulic accumulators … you had to crawl into a space that could not be seen from three feet away and wear earplugs. In my entire military career, the sweetest words I heard was "Set normal underway watches" because that would be the first time I was in a rack in weeks.

With just three days of refit left, it was decided we would get liberty for the first time. So at 1800 I was headed out to the liberty launch(we were tied to a tender in the middle of the loch). As I passed my Chief, I told him I would need help topside about 0230, which was the last liberty boat time of the night. He laughed. Okay, just don't say I didn't give fair warning.

Now Tennents Ale on draft was the best beer I have ever had. For three more quarts and the fish n chips, I would fly back over and do one more run on a submarine. At 9% ABV, three would put on your ass, or as I called it, leave you seating impaired. Only through years of hard work and practice was I able to drink in this condition. Served at room temperature, they went down like sweet tea. My mouth is literally watering now, some 30 years later, just writing about it. Let's just say that I drank all I could handle plus a few.

We get back to the pier about 0130 and I know I am already in trouble and there is no way I can be sober by 0630 quarters and am going to take an ass chewing from my Chief. I used my best available judgement and decide that my chief is going to have to earn the right to stand in front of me for that, There was a little snack/news stand at the pier so I buy and eat a half dozen pickled eggs.

We had a short rain shower that night and when I got to the boat everything was wet. Now you always had to burn whatever clothes you took on a run because of the amine smell soaked into everything, was horrible and you couldn't get it out. So I was wearing a pair of Reeboks that were falling apart and slicker than bat shit. We had one set of stairs on the boat and they were made of stainless steel. On my first step I fell and basically went down the stairs upside down. My pants button gave way so I was flying them at half mast while going commando. About the time I got to the bottom of the stairs upside down and naked, my Chief and Division officer rounded the corner. My naked, drunk upside down ass hit my division officer chest high and I pinned him up against the freeze box door. Damned near knocked him out. I get up and while trying to pull my pants up, looked at my Chief and reminded him "I told you I was going to need some help".

I get just enough sleep to pass myself off as hungover instead of drunk, but I reek of beer and looked like I was dressed by Hellen Keller … wrinkled used dungarees, no gig line, belt missed loops, and unshaven. Other than that I had a real GI look to me. Chief decides to chew me out in front of the division. I pissed him off with the most basic of tactics … I smiled. Every time he paused, I would agree with him. His face was a red as humanly possible when he stepped up to mine. That's when I tried to ease one out. I damned near shit myself with this mixture of pickled eggs and Scottish ale. It really was a paint peeler, my own eyes watered and I almost puked. He did, all over me.

I have to give it to my Chief. He lent me to deck division that day and I found myself in a crawl space between the superstructure and the hull with a needle gun, supposedly to chip paint. It was a confined space that I could not stand, sit or turn around in. There was no ventilation other than me. I would fart and puke , fart and puke, shit and puke for twelve hours.
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You are bringing back some good memories lol!
 
RTR...USN (ret) said:
You are bringing back some good memories lol!
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The funny thing is that amongst this I got two letters of Commendation from COMSUBGRU2, one for submarine qualification in 29 days and one through the Chop(I did a lot of his and the storekeeper's job in emergencies as part of my RPPO duties) because he was pissed at my Chief and used a stealth BOHICA on them. Nobody in Engineering knew that one was coming my way until they were reading the letter during fly away inspection formation. The looks were priceless.
 
How I got the name batchaps and the true story of how I actually ruined my knee:

Back when I was in the Navy, I met a local gal in a Charlestown, RI bar. There was something about her that said she would be freaky in bed. We dated for a couple of months without having sex, mostly because I did not want a sexual assault charge. Then one night everything changed … she called and said lets get freaky.

Just as I was getting into the groove, it happened. For some reason I raised up and shouted, "I am Batman!", instead of the normal screaming my own name out, and it happened … my bat cape got caught in the ceiling fan, jerked my head up and WOP, WOP, WOP … the fan blades caught me above the left eye, splitting my forehead open and knocking me off balance.

As I stepped back, my foot went between the mattress and the footboard. I lost my balance and fell backwards. I heard a loud pop in my knee and knew I was in trouble. My cape partially tore but held my head about an inch above the hardwood floor. As the fan blade made revolutions, my head was bouncing off the hardwood.

I would like to think that I handled the pain like a man and passed out but in reality I pissed myself. Now if you are ever hanging upside down during a sexual incident and have to pee, be sure to cover your nose AND mouth. A man can drown if you don't.

So my GF freaks the f*ck out and is screaming like a banshee. The good news was that her neighbor heard her and rushed over, breaking down the front door. The bad news was that she lived next door to her Dad.

I am not sure what pissed her Dad off the most, that he had to dig through my bat utility belt for the piss soaked handcuff keys, that he found the toys in said utility belt, that he found the extra batteries or that I was hanging upside down in a bloody and pissy state wearing nothing but a pair of chaps and torn bat cape. He watched my head bouncing off of the floor and before he called 911, he flipped the ceiling fan to high.

The ambulance finally got there and they had to take me back to the submarine base for treatment. The doctor at the ER walked into my little room, took one look at me and said, "this was a football accident … I am NOT going to any hearing over this". Hence I got my medical discharge with a service connected disability.
 
batchaps4me said:
How I got the name batchaps and the true story of how I actually ruined my knee:

Back when I was in the Navy, I met a local gal in a Charlestown, RI bar. There was something about her that said she would be freaky in bed. We dated for a couple of months without having sex, mostly because I did not want a sexual assault charge. Then one night everything changed … she called and said lets get freaky.

Just as I was getting into the groove, it happened. For some reason I raised up and shouted, "I am Batman!", instead of the normal screaming my own name out, and it happened … my bat cape got caught in the ceiling fan, jerked my head up and WOP, WOP, WOP … the fan blades caught me above the left eye, splitting my forehead open and knocking me off balance.

As I stepped back, my foot went between the mattress and the footboard. I lost my balance and fell backwards. I heard a loud pop in my knee and knew I was in trouble. My cape partially tore but held my head about an inch above the hardwood floor. As the fan blade made revolutions, my head was bouncing off the hardwood.

I would like to think that I handled the pain like a man and passed out but in reality I pissed myself. Now if you are ever hanging upside down during a sexual incident and have to pee, be sure to cover your nose AND mouth. A man can drown if you don't.

So my GF freaks the f*ck out and is screaming like a banshee. The good news was that her neighbor heard her and rushed over, breaking down the front door. The bad news was that she lived next door to her Dad.

I am not sure what pissed her Dad off the most, that he had to dig through my bat utility belt for the piss soaked handcuff keys, that he found the toys in said utility belt, that he found the extra batteries or that I was hanging upside down in a bloody and pissy state wearing nothing but a pair of chaps and torn bat cape. He watched my head bouncing off of the floor and before he called 911, he flipped the ceiling fan to high.

The ambulance finally got there and they had to take me back to the submarine base for treatment. The doctor at the ER walked into my little room, took one look at me and said, "this was a football accident … I am NOT going to any hearing over this". Hence I got my medical discharge with a service connected disability.
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You’re killing me dude!😂
 
So the apple doesn't fall far from the tree:

My son got nominated for soldier of the quarter ... I was almost sure I needed a paternity test because we just don't achieve awards like that ... and just had his board with brigade Command Sergeant Major, Sergeant Major, and First Sergeant. Due to the pandemic, it was a virtual board, done on line.

First damn thing he does is get into an argument with the Sergeant Major ... he reports to the board wearing a mask, which is required by USAREC any time they are in a recruiting station and muffles the voice. SM orders him to take it off so they can hear him better and he refused but offered to adjust the mike so they could hear him better. When the SM pushed back he gave the order number, signatory of the order and asked the SM under what authority could he countermand the order ... the SM melted down and all hell broke loose. Apparently the First Sergeant and SM were going apeshit crazy and even threatened to kick him out of the board and write him up for insubordination and disobeying a direct order ... my son told him that was his right and he would see what the courts martial says about it because he was not accepting an Article15 for following legal orders.

Only in my family, where the jackass gene is dominant, can a person go into an awards board and get threatened with being written up over a mask and challenge back with a courts martial ... all I am saying is that the DNA match is obvious.
 
batchaps4me said:
My oldest brother was in the Army by the time I was 12. He was stationed in Wurzburg Germany and IMHO got some really good or really bad acid/hash during Oktoberfest. He was medically discharged from the Army and was never really right in the head afterwards. I am trying to type out the story about the first time I got to party with him but it is kind of long so it will be tomorrow before I can edit and post it. All I can say for tonight is if you and your cousin have ever staggered away from HUD apartments in Cordova, AL on a Thursday night … carrying 2 half gallons of liquor while trying to dodge EMTs, police and an angry father of a mentally disturbed naked woman … you might be a redneck.
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I may have mentioned it but I used to work at the Regions bank in Cordova. On one of my first visits I asked the branch manager if the story about Jasper being the hit capital was still true. His answer; well I know where you can get somebody killed for $125 and for $25 extra they will tell them who sent them before they did the job. One thing for sure they took their high school football real serious in Cordova.
 
Bullitt08 said:
I may have mentioned it but I used to work at the Regions bank in Cordova. On one of my first visits I asked the branch manager if the story about Jasper being the hit capital was still true. His answer; well I know where you can get somebody killed for $125 and for $25 extra they will tell them who sent them before they did the job. One thing for sure they took their high school football real serious in Cordova.
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Walker county was bad about that. We discussed it a bit when the tornado hit Wesley's. BTW, I talked to my brother and y'all were right about the Old Sawmill burning down ... I thought it was Sammy's but that is off of 269 going into B'ham instead of 78 ... my brother said it burned down about 2 or 3 years before I started going to bars, so I guess I was 12 or 13 back then.


EDIT: Also Cordova was our most hated rival. Oakman was our "area rival" because we were both smaller schools than Cordova in most years.
 
batchaps4me said:
Walker county was bad about that. We discussed it a bit when the tornado hit Wesley's. BTW, I talked to my brother and y'all were right about the Old Sawmill burning down ... I thought it was Sammy's but that is off of 269 going into B'ham instead of 78 ... my brother said it burned down about 2 or 3 years before I started going to bars, so I guess I was 12 or 13 back then.


EDIT: Also Cordova was our most hated rival. Oakman was our "area rival" because we were both smaller schools than Cordova in most years.
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Yep Wesley and the Old Sawmill took turns burning each other out until Wesley decided he was not playing anymore and finished the job. Those two places back in the day issued knives at the door. I spent too much of my wasted youth going to those type of places. Out that way you had Charlie's, who was a woman, Wesley's Booby Trap and the Old Sawmill. You would walk in and in a couple of minutes knew if you were staying. There were either knock outs or ones that beer goggles would not make better. Wesley's is the only one left and I have not been in years. Remember they had little blocks of wood on the tables you could use to make noise with.

In Birmingham Sammy's and Lynn's Den were the main ones with others sprouting up at times. Back in the day you had a large crowd of banker, stock brokers attorney etc in those places. Lot's of money flowing and it showed in the talent. But I remember Sammy saying never fall in love with a dancer they will break your heart every time.
 
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