Spent another weekend in New York raising hell and causing problems. Here's some lessons I picked up, in no particular order:
- I'm not allowed to be intoxicated in public places. This is in the best interests of you, me, my friends, and the world at large. Topping the list of places I shouldn't go is Manhattan during Fleet Week... I'm sure you can figure that one out.
- When drinking liquor in quantity, I actually grow in size and strength and then proceed to multiply. One shot, I'm still plain ol' me, just a bit more talkative. Three or four shots and I'm pretty sure I can take anyone in the room one on one. After six shots or so, I am a company-sized element, ready to stomp any faces that present themselves. Eight or more and I'm at least a full battalion of pissed-off paratroopers. In my mind.
- I'm pretty awesome at talking to cops, particularly when I'm a bit inebriated. This is good.
- People find my insanity interesting. Some people actually enjoy participating in it. I don't understand this either.
- Drunkenly shouting "I'M A GODDAMN PARATROOPER YOU DAMN DIRTY POGS!!!" at groups of sailors, Marines, pretty much everyone, on a rowdy Saturday night in Manhattan, is not a great way to make friends. Shocking, I know. (For you civilian types, "POG" (pronounced 'pogue') is an acronym for Personnel Other than Grunts, i.e. non-infantry. It's pretty derogatory.)
It's probably a good thing that I have to quit drinking for an extended period of time.
Deuces
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