Tagged: war

SpaceBrew Review: Bangs & Whimpers

This book, Bangs & Whimpers: Stories About the End of the World is a collection of short stories by different authors. Most of these stories were written some fifty to sixty years ago. It includes passages from all the greats – from Arthur C. Clarke to Robert Heinlein, Neil Gaiman to Isaac Asimov. I’ve owned it for many years now, but have somehow never gotten around to reading it, until now.

I started it several nights ago, longing for the feel of a paper book in my hands after nearly a year of nothing but audio and electronic books. I just finished it. And let me tell you: if you are in the mood to be depressed, pick up a copy of this volume and give a go. Dear Lord.

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SpaceBrew Review: District 9

I finally watched District 9 a couple of weeks ago. It was nothing like I thought it would be. When I originally dropped it in my queue I was only vaguely aware of the plot. Here’s the plot summary from IMDB:

In 1982, a massive star ship bearing a bedraggled alien population, nicknamed “The Prawns,” appeared over Johannesburg, South Africa. Twenty-eight years later, the initial welcome by the human population has faded. The refugee camp where the aliens were located has deteriorated into a militarized ghetto called District 9, where they are confined and exploited in squalor. In 2010, the munitions corporation, Multi-National United, is contracted to forcibly evict the population with operative Wikus van der Merwe in charge. In this operation, Wikus is exposed to a strange alien chemical and must rely on the help of his only two new ‘Prawn’ friends.

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Remember Memorial Day

So how was your Memorial Day? Did you remember? I know most of you did. And most of us remember by drinking beer and grilling out. Any kind of meat seems to be appropriate. Any kind of beer seems to be appropriate. And as long as a swimming pool is involved, people are enjoying the hell out of their Memorial Day. But are we really remembering why it’s even called Memorial Day? I hope so.

I know Siege dressed in his full Class-A Marines dress uniform and visited the Dallas Memorial Cemetery. He went to pay his respects to those who have fallen in the line of duty. Stout and I were going to go as well, but it was too short notice, and we found ourselves lacking parts of our uniforms. But that won’t happen again. Next holiday we will be ready.

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Fleas Flee, Please

Not too long ago, I had a dog named Daisy. Or Dixie. Something like that. You see, I’ve never really connected with her. Because see, she’s never allowed me to. She’s so scared of men that she wouldn’t come to me. Every time I would approach her, she would make a rather large puddle of this dark yellow liquid. I’m not sure what all that is about. But I couldn’t have a relationship with this dog like most people have with their dogs. You know, like petting it and saying, “Come here, Butch!” and have him actually come see you. So I’ve never connected with her, and thus – I don’t really remember her name.

Regardlessly, she brought some of her friends in a few weeks ago. And now they’ve taken over. Fleas. I hate them. I hate them worse than I hate golf. Thousands of them. You couldn’t walk through the grass to the back door without having them hop onto your legs and start biting. The little cocksuckers.

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From Panama With Love

I guess I should talk about this. It’s still the source of bad dreams that wake me up during the night, even eight years after the fact. It happened when I was still in the military. Way in. I was sent to Panama on an MRT (a Maintenance Recovery Team) to repair a bird that went down out there. I had been there for about two and a half weeks when we finally got the parts in and made our repairs on the C-130. Typical procedure is that it flies home immediately and we as a crew hitch a ride on it. Well due to circumstances upon which I cannot comment, I had to stay behind for several more days, and would catch a bus to Costa Rica (ugh) and from there, fly into San Antonio. All good.

I was staying in a cheap shitty motel on the outskirts of Santiago, trying to dodge people wherever and whenever I could, lying low. I’d already had several run-ins with the locals and had almost been arrested for being white. I had sent my uniforms and all evidence of my involvement with the US military back on the plane with my team. All I’d been left with was a sidearm. Once my double-stack magazine was empty (and I hoped to God I wouldn’t have to empty it) I was out. Bare as a naked baby’s ass.

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SpaceBrew Review: Star Wars III

We saw the last Star Wars yesterday as a team. My boss took us all out and we saw it, then she took us to the bar afterwards and bought us a hilarious amount of drinks so we would be properly prepared to discuss it at great lengths. I have a few complaints, and a few praises I will share with you. If you’ve not yet seen Episode III, or don’t know the general storyline of Star Wars, then don’t read below here, because there will be spoilers.

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My War on Wasps

I hate wasps and hornets. They piss me off. I respect them, because – unlike ants – you have to piss them off before they sting you. But I still hate them sons of bitches. They all live up under the eave of my house thinking they own the place, and they dive bomb me when I’m trying to relax in my pool with a beer.

What I want to know, is how the hell do they know how to sting? It’s obviously inborn behavior, but it’s still a mystery to me. At what point in their lives do they become aware of the fact that that stinger on they tail is a weapon? No one teaches them that shit. They just know. And some wasps die after they sting you. So what’s the point of stinging if you know your ass is gonna die? screw that.

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The Sinister Sisters Behind the Curtain

There’s no doubting that women rule the world. Anyone who doesn’t believe that, try living with one for a few weeks. You’ll catch on. I’m just wondering why so many of them are psycho. You remember that movie Beautiful Girls? Michael Rappaport says it perfectly: “They’re all sisters. You never let them behind the curtain. They’re all sisters.” What a brilliant man he was. That’s exactly what they are.

Otherwise, how would they all know when we screw up? And you notice whenever you’ve been single for a while and you finally find someone worth checking into, that’s when they all come to call. When it rains it pours, gentlemen. They all know. It’s like a little alarm in their heads go off saying “Johnnie’s got a girl now! Set tits to stun! Go get him girls!” And they do. They all come around. But you never see that shit happening when you’re single. Well, unless you’re like me. But that’s beside the point.

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