Mind Two:
So Mind One went to Basic Training for the army this summer. The Mind's were separated for quite some time and it pretty much sucked. Mind One couldn't text me every second of every day like normal. So we were reserved to writing letters. And we always had lots to say. However, there are certain ways you talk to your best friend and Mind One and I were no different. We always had inappropriate but hilarious stories to share with each other. Communicating through letters was no different. Which is why I feel the need to share a few of the gems Mind One has written me over the summer. I won't share the whole letter cause privacy and just a warning, most of the things Mind One and I say to each other are offensive, so if you don't like language stop reading right now. But you're missing out because Mind One and I are frickin hilarious.
Letter #1 (June 23rd, 2014)
I'm on fireguard right now, which is Army speak for "wake up and stay up for 1 hour because fuck sleep".
So far Basic doesn't suck quite as much dick as I was afraid of.
P.S. Pulling fire guard makes me want to suck start an M16.
Letter #2 (June 7th, 2014)
I'm writing this after lights out and a drill sergeant just came in and flipped shit.
Now I can't have my flashlight on so I'm writing and reading by the light of the exit sign.
P.S. I ripped skin off my middle finger today on Treadwell Tower.
Letter #3 (July 4th, 2014)
As Drill Sergeant Melnyk said, "Happy fuck England day privates!"
Also remember, the only people that get their happy endings without a rocky road are ignorant bitches.
Yesterday I had my first drill sergeant screaming in my face incident. There were 2 and guess what they were yelling about? Top Gun. The fucking movie. What even is my life?
Letter #4 (July 11th, 2014)
I named my M16 Irene. And I zeroed her in today. Me and Irene are gonna tear shit up mother fucker.
Letter #5 (July 17th, 2014)
I ghetto rigged coffee today at lunch. Instant coffee and creamer and sugar. It was awful, and wonderful. I need coffee and a fucking month away from all these females. Sweet sugar tits. Today was not a good day.
FYI there is a book called "I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell" that our drill sergeant told us about today. (You can bet your sweet ass Mind Two will find this book and read it!)
Letter #6 (July 18th, 2014)
Throat punch that girl. Fucking stomp a mudhole in her ass. Nuke her until she glows, then shoot her in the dark. Punch her so hard in the chest her heart stops and she dies.
Letter #7 (August 2nd, 2014)
You're taking your sweet ass time to send me another letter shit bag.
There are 2 certified Africans from Africa. And they speak fucking horse shit languages and it ruins my day.
Can I still kill her? I know like 8 different ways now. Army certified.
I'm going to the Wiccan ceremony tomorrow cause it's a holiday and we'll get cookies and shit. Some real black and ghetto girls want me to learn how to twerk.
Letter #8 ( August 10th, 2014)
Fun fact: Bacon every day here. But the pancakes are bullshit.
I NEED COFFEE! HOLY SHIT TITS.
Story on this page AKA the time a giant moth almost ruined my Army career. (This is Mind Two's favorite story). There are fucking huge moths here. They're called Wolf Moths. I saw one where each wing was the size of my hand. My. Giant. Man. Hand. Each wing. I nearly shit all over during PT. The first sergeant is standing in front of me and I'm at attention. Out of my peripheral vision, I see this big ass flying...thing. And in my head I'm all, "Bat! fuck fuck fuck". On the outside I was all position of attention soldier face. Then it gets a little closer. And it's a giant moth. Like Mothzilla flying near my first sergeant's head. So I did what any reasonable private would have done. I made a purdy disgusted face. Which made the first sergeant follow my eye line. He sees Satan's pet moth hovering over his shoulder, looks back at me, and makes the same face. So the first sergeant and I are basically like this:
So I panic. And I look to the center of the PT formation and all I see is 2 of my drill sergeant's fucking staring at this moth and backing up and covering their faces. Later I ask my roommate and THEY FUCKING FLY AT PEOPLE'S FACES AND THEY BITE AND THEY GET EVEN BIGGER. LIKE ONE WING=ONE PAGE OF A PIECE OF PAPER. FUCK OKLAHOMA.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what I had to look forward to every week. Don't you wish your best friend was as funny as mine?
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