Since then, millions of Marines have proudly worn the globe and anchor, and many thousands have, in that service, died far from home and family, some quickly, some only after prolonged agony. Others have endured wounds, physical or spiritual, that made a return to peaceful normality impossible, and suffered for their service until the day they died.

That is the harsh reality of the service; sooner or later, we as a political entity, the United States, for the greater common good, take some of our young men, and toss them into meatgrinders of fire and lead, hellholes like Belleau Wood and Tarawa and Inchon, and now, Fallujah and Tikrit, from which many will not return. They suffer and die so that we may continue to live in the peace and comfort that is the norm for most in our nation, and to try to extend that peace and comfort to those that do not yet have it.

Semper Fi, my DevilDog brothers, especially those of you that tonight will be far away from home - hot, cold, exhausted, dirty, afraid, lonely, hungry, footsore, blistered, chafing under the weight of that combat load, hating every minute of being stuck out in the boonies of some forsaken Third World country where they can't seem to get their shit together, where they can't leave behind the religious, tribal or ethnic hatreds behind, where some murderous asshole of a petty tyrant uses them to try and impose his grandiose visions on the locals, and the only thing preventing him from doing so is you and your buddies and your willingness to trek the Hard Road with your M-16, and shove it up his power-mad ass and pull the trigger if need be.

Hang in there. Someday soon you'll be back here in the Land of the Big PX, and you'll do what I'll be doing tonight - having a few beers for me, and then drinking a few for you, too, since I know that's what you'd want me to do. You too, will sit back and recall your old buds, those that made it back OK, and those that didn't, and toast them all, taking your place as another link in the long chain of the Men that have kept us free.

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In the course of the conversation, I made a typical-for-me gratutitous slam at ol' Slick Willie.

She's a bit of a Lefty, so all of the sudden, it was on, - it got heated, but it ended up heated in a compleatly different manner. :-)

After a half hour or so of back and forth, which I've mercifully left out, but be assured I was Right and she was Wrong, it was long past our bedtimes, and she said:

(her words in blue, mine in red) It's an interesting conversation--I'd just prefer to conduct it when we have more time, would love best of all to conduct it face-to-face, maybe with a nice bottle of red wine to go along with it. Well, I could if I was there, if we were face2face, we'd be doing other things.... Yes--but it would probably be a shorter conversation! I think it would go like this...

pump... thrust... grind... clench... uh-huh...But Bush is the debbil, I say!" kiss... lick... stroke...

"No, that's Slick Willie!" moan. groan. clasp. squeeze. lol "Who's yer Daddy!" "You are! You Are!" quiver. spasm. spurt. lol collapse. rollover. fade.

"luv ya." "me too" (snores) (snores)

That's it! I refuse to have this conversation until we can have it face-to-face! (laughs)

Prolly how it would go, too. sounded about right--sounds like fun That's good - I always like sticking it to The Left. hmph Fuck 'em, I say! lol Fuck the Left! Line 'em up! Cock like a rock! Bring it on, sweetheart I'll make 'em have my babies, I tell ya!" How 'bout a little less talk, and a lot more action! So see, cats and dogs can live together. :-)

 

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Thursday, 6. November 2003

mld, November 6, 2003 at 8:15:00 AM CET

Wenches of TRF 2003

Everywhere you go at TRF you cannot but help being amazed at the number and variety of lovely wenches there. And ladies, be not mistaken, unlike in our modern culture, the term wench carries no ill will or insult, it is simply the most common name used for any of the non-noble classes.

Here are some pics of some of the lovely wenches I've run into this season, and, in such cases as I know it, a bit of information about them.

Collette

Collette is a gypsy wench, working as a serving wench in the Prince of Wales pub. In past seasons she's been a cast member, but now works for the Prince serving ale and a hundred watt smile, along with ample acres of eye-candy cleavage. What's not to like? :-)



Collette in her old bodice



Collette in her new bodice. I kinda like this one better, for two obvious reasons. :-)

Aphrodite

Aphrodite is a beer wench in the Greek food and entertainment circle where the LimeyBirds and the gypsy dance troupe perform. A classic slender blonde beauty.



Hippolyta

I don't know a thing about this woman, other than that she was hanging out (in several ways) around Lord Entropy's shop, and that's while she's a bit too skinny for my tastes, most of the male readers are gonna think she's Hot Stuff. I'm of two minds about that garb - it seems to be saying "Look, but don't touch." Like trying to eat a lollipop with the wrapper still on.





Red Hot Momma

Who says you can't be a barbarian and a good mother too? I've been a nodding acquaintance to this barbarian woman for a few years now...



and now she shows up with her daughter in barb garb. :-)





Vision in Blue

I'd never seen this wench before last Saturday, when she came sashaying by the candle shop for which I work as a hawker. Said occupation gives me an excellent excuse to begin a conversation with just about anyone, so I began it by telling the young lad that was escorting her down the lane that a woman as fair and toothsome as this should immediately be gifted with a candle in the aroma of her choice, and were it me, I would be especially interested in purchasing one of our Romance Candles, designed and garanteed to drive women to such heights of lusty passion as they had not yet even known existed.

This young rapscallion brandished his beer at me, a Miller Lite, (that alone enough to demonstrate he was a man of unsophisticated taste, and totally unworthy of such a buxom lass), and replied that were he needin' some romance, he'd just go git him another beer.

In an effort to help the young lad, so new in the ways of the world, I pointed out that were one wishing to start a fire, one could do better than by beginning with soaking one's wood in beer, and further commented upon the additional erotic possibilites of molten wax.
She laughed, he looked uncomprehendingly at me, and said if she wants to look at candles, fine, but I'm gonna go git me another beer, or something to that effect, and stalked off.

She then said that he could from time to time act like the southmost end of the alimentary canal, (though that was not her exact term), and we chatted pleasantly for a few moments, after which she agreed to pose for a pic or two.



Note that she is neither skinny or spiky :-)

I told her I'd send her a copy of the pics, and got her email addy. Since I collect dozens every day, I always ask folks to write down a few words next to their address, so that I can remember which pic belongs to which address. She hesitated, and asked me what she should write. I told her "vision in blue" would be just fine. Hence her title here. :-)

This is just a start - I couldn't possibly post all the pics I have in one shot, even if I used little itty bitty thumbnails, it'd make the page waaay too slow to load. So, more wenches in the next few days, to include Katie, Scorch, Kris, and a host of others, not the least of which would be the ladies of GiggleFest.

Sign up for the email updates, using the form on the right, there, and be the first on your block.

 

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