Well, a few of us broken fucks are sitting here at battalion on a 24 hour shift, twiddling our thumbs and attempting to stay awake at all costs.
The MPs came when some weirdo from the extra duty group found a half-smoked blunt in the parking lot. Naturally, they thought it was his, as he was on this detail specifically because he'd gotten caught smoking the ganj. Anyway, it was obviously dirty Mexican schwag, but somehow still qualified as weed according to the instant THC test.
I've still got nearly twelve hours left here, followed immediately by an orthopaedic appointment for my broken self. Then I get to find a DMV so I can help my buddy get his ID back... but then I will sleep for hours upon end, and it will feel wonderful.
For now I'll stay awake courtesy of my very interesting book about the arms/drugs/humanitarian aid smuggling trade around the world (Outlaws, Inc. by Matt Potter, if you're into these things, I highly recommend it), interrupted occasionally by the crackle of my radio.
- one bleary eyed paratrooper
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