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DUFFEL BLOG PRESENTS: George R.R. Martin gives your weekend safety brief

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game of thrones

The Company Gunnery Sergeant was shouting, shouting, shouting. His voice echoed off the parade deck, while the Marines of House Kilo stood motionless at parade rest outside the company holdfast.

“Seven Hells, if just one of you gets the pox this night from the maidens at Littlefinger’s pleasure house, or pays the iron price instead of the gold price at the Exchange, I’ll take a sword to the lot of your throats,” Gunny Clegane shouted at them.

A half dozen corpsmen from House Navy lazily watched the formation from the smoke pit. The base loudspeaker was faintly playing John Philip Sousa, or somewhere a cart full of chimes had collided with a cart full of drums. It was hard to tell.

Lance Corporal Stark sat in a musty chair by the company clerk’s desk, also watching the formation from above. Captain Frey must be deaf as well as dumb to call this a safety brief.

Stark was dressed in a short-sleeve khaki shirt with dark green service trousers, holding a dark green garrison cap with a chipped and faded Eagle Globe and Anchor on the front. He wore his Combat Action Ribbon, National Defense Service Ribbon, Global War on Terrorism Service Ribbon, Afghanistan Campaign Ribbon, and Sea Service Ribbon.

He had never bothered getting his Good Conduct Ribbon. He had never needed to.

Lance Corporal Renly, the company clerk, looked over at him. Renly was wearing woodland MARPAT, with his sleeves rolled in a loose and wrinkled manner where his veins were not popping out. He wore a set of Danner hot weather boots, with a red dogtag that he claimed had been issued to him by the Battalion Aid Station.

“Fear cuts deeper than swords, Lance Corporal Stark,” Renly said. Stark, a crofter from the frozen northland of Minnesota, eyed him coldly.

Renly drank a swallow of Monster, then bit into some chicken fingers as he spoke. Grease dribbled down his chin as he enjoyed their succulent taste. They were still hot from Church’s Chicken.

Stark could not fault him for his choice of dining.

The chow hall had served dry chicken and greasy lasagna, with a side of bland potatoes and even blander green beans. The drinks had been water-flavored soda and juice, and half a cup of coffee-like sludge until the machine had broken down again.

“Captain Frey will see, kof, see you shortly, kof kof…” Renley’s words broke up in a fit of coughing. The Monster slipped from his hand and green liquid went running across the desk.

First Lieutenant Bolton, the Executive Officer, walked by them towards the door. He was dressed only in his smallclothes, a damp olive green undershirt, non-regulation silkies, a fluorescent yellow reflector belt, and what were almost certainly issued running shoes.

He smelled like sweat and discount Old Spice. On his left arm he had a tattoo of what looked like a blind beggar’s attempt to paint the Eagle Globe and Anchor, the sigil of the Marines.

“My lost PFT score sends its regards,” Bolton said to Renly in his whispery soft voice as his cold milky white eyes fell upon the clerk. Renly’s face was turning red, but not as red as the Gunnery Sergeant, who kept shouting at the formation.

“… Gods be good, if she’s not flowered when you have her, I’ll have you sent north to The Front Gate to live out your days saluting lords and ladies,” he continued to shout as Stark was summoned into the office of his liegelord, Captain Frey.

Frey sat in an cheaply-upholstered reclining chair, with no back and missing a rolling wheel. Years of midnight phone calls and non-putative letters of caution had taken their toll on the captain, who was at that most ancient age of 32.

Stark cleared his throat. “I have come to make my apologies for the wrong I did to House Kilo, and to beg for your forgiveness, my lord.”

“Words are wind, Stark,” Frey glared at him. “You’d do as well talking to my chamberpot, heh. And where is the hauberk that you were issued from the CIF? At the local pawn merchant?”

Lost on last week’s night march while you were sleeping in the saddle, Stark thought. “No words can set my crime right,” he responded.

“That makes me grievous,” Frey said. “You could have sworn a hundred oaths, but that won’t sign the missing gear statement.”

From the shadows at the back of the office, First Sergeant Payne appeared. The specter of the company, thought Stark as he watched the Captain’s Justice stride forward, gaunt and grim.

He had been too young to have known First Sergeant on the drill field, before he’d lost his wife. He would have been a different man in those days, but now the silence is as much a part of him as those hollow eyes, clipboard in his arm, and tan line on his finger where his wedding band had once been.

The Gunnery Sergeant had stopped shouting. Instead he made a gurgling sound as a quarrel sprouted from his neck. The corpsmen in the smoke pit now had crossbows in their hands instead of Marlboros and Copenhagen.

The base loudspeaker was now playing “The Rains of Castamere.” A dozen Staff Sergeants emerged through the holdfast’s portcullis and fell upon the formation with axes and daggers gleaming.

“Time for their terminal leave to start, heh,” cackled Frey over the sound of screams. “No police blotter for House Kilo this weekend. As for you… First Sergeant Payne… bring me his rank!”

No, don’t, don’t take my rank, I have another interest payment on my car. Then the NJP was in Stark’s hand and its bite was red and cold.

Duffel Blog writer Tony of House Army sent a raven to contribute to this scroll.

See also: Afghan ‘Game of Thrones’ Fans Stage Real-Life Wedding Massacre

Duffel Blog Presents

Duffel Blog Presents: Space Force field tips for lunar transport shuttle

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CAMP ARMSTRONG, The Moon – Countless back-and-forth shuttle convoys have become the norm as troopers take on the herculean task of standing up the first Space Force moon base. To better prepare future space troopers, pioneers from the First Brigade Space Combat Team (1BSCT) have offered their valuable observations and tips on their workhorse transport shuttle.

Meet the S1078 Lunar Military Transport Vehicle (SLMTV):

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Many aspects of the SLMTV should be familiar to anyone with prior military experience. The similarities were designed to ensure that enlisted troopers with a traditional diver’s license could become certified with minimal training. While the SLMTV appears to only have minor cosmetic differences compared to the terrestrial variant, there are some major upgrades:

– AM/FM radio with compact disc player (10-second skip protection)

– Hybrid electrogravitic/space diesel engine technology

– Dual climate control (cabin only; rear has two settings—95°F or 45°F)

– Tractor beam winch and trailer hitch

– Auto-extending, rear loading ramp

– Interior, artificial gravity system

Notes from the field: Initially, the auto-extending loading ramp appeared to eliminate the injury risk from personnel climbing into or jumping out of a tall shuttle bed. When wearing spacesuits, however, the ramp is too narrow and troopers are just as likely to injure their ankles with a slip. Additionally, there’s no way to deactivate the auto-extending ramp, even in space, which poses a bigger hazard if floating troopers exit at the wrong angle.

Another issue brought up by 1BCT troopers is the artificial gravity system. The exterior, Boeing-designed sensors are prone to malfunction. An object impact to a thruster from any space debris larger than a potato (or a jettisoned, urine-filled Gatorade bottle in one case) can cause a sudden gravitational reversal which is the equivalent of a vehicle rollover.

In times of emergency, troopers have also observed that regular diesel fuel works exactly the same as the exponentially more expensive space diesel. Some even claim that regular diesel actually improves SLMTV performance.

Space Force troopers signing equipment hand receipts are advised to be diligent with accountability since SLMTV basic issue items (BII) carry a larger sticker price than the BII of Earth-bound vehicles.

To prevent theft, many units have spray painted their colors and stenciled their vehicle numbers onto their BII. In the event BII goes missing, units can simply “field procure” items from a nearby shuttlepool and re-paint/re-stencil as required.

Special thanks for artwork by Drew Rocker

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Duffel Blog Presents: 6 signs that your spouse is a Dudependa

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Due to a variety of policy changes, the U.S. military is witnessing a drastic rise in the number of adult male dependents. While conducting studies about how to best serve this previously overlooked demographic, the Department of Defense has discovered an entirely new sub-classification of the species: the “dudependa.”

The dudependa shares many traits with its closest living relative, the “dependapotamus” but is a unique and beautiful creature in its own right. Here are 6 signs that your spouse might be a Dudependa:

1. He’s entangled in a pyramid scheme selling supplements for a sketchy online supplier.

Sure, he calls it a multi-level marketing “opportunity” and identifies himself as an “independent CEO” on his Facebook, but you don’t quite know what to do when massive quantities of weird, questionably legal chemicals from the former Yugoslavia show up on your doorstep on an irregular basis. At least he seems happy trying to peddle his wares to all the other husbands on base who are already deeply indebted to the same, likely very dangerous people. #Bossbro

2. He’s cheating on you with a Crossfit instructor/semi-professional sugar daddy yacht model named Jodi.

You’re not quite sure why she’s even interested in him since he gained all that beer and Hot Pocket weight during your last deployment. It’s probably some combination of her insurmountable insecurity and the fact that he wears the same cologne as her dad.

3. He shows up at military ball in inappropriately tight tux so the whole unit can talk about the bulge on Monday morning.

And that doesn’t even include the part where he got blackout drunk, started crying and vomited on the XO’s wife. At least he’s hot.

4. He spends your re-enlistment bonus on calf implants.

To be fair, you’d pay any sum of money to get him to stop whining about how he looks like Mr. Incredible or SpongeBob’s “Larry the Lobster.” Other breeds of dudependa have also been known to siphon off their old lady’s cash to buy Xbox games, Nerf firearm accessories, and/or the devil’s lettuce.

5. He pumps out babies (with other women)

Do half of the toddlers on base look eerily similar or is it just you?

6. He attends girl’s night out with your sailors’ spouses but won’t spill their secrets

You’ve never seen this big of a gossip consistently pretend to take the moral high ground in refusal to divulge someone’s dirty laundry. He’s basically a “Sex and the City” character.

BONUS:

He asks for a military discount at the food court.

He cuts the husbands of lower-ranking sailors in line for the bench-press

His favorite phrases are “Do you know who my wife is?” and “We made chief.”

 

Blondes Over Baghdad, The Shammer, and LT Original G contributed to reporting

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Duffel Blog Presents

Duffel Blog Presents: 5 tips for a killer beach body

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Winter can be full of holiday parties, lazy snow days on the couch, and a few too many glasses of eggnog. Don’t get too comfortable, though, because spring is just around the corner! Are you ready for sand and sun? As you get ready for that big trip to Normandy or Tarawa, Duffel Blog is here to help you with 5 great tips for getting a killer beach body.

  1. Massing Firepower

Workin’ it is more fun with friends! When you hit that beach, your kill count will be higher with an array of direct and indirect fires. Give that killer beach body the love it deserves with a classic crew-served weapon like a sleek ma deuce. Suppressive fire is a great warm up for closing in and destroying your enemies in close contact.

  1. Battle Drill 1A

There are a lot of fancy sounding boutique exercises out there, but when getting ready for an action-packed day on the beach, you can’t do better than getting back to basics with battle drill 1A. Movement to contact or deliberate hasty assault? Either way you’ll be ready for anything by keeping it tight with actions on the objective. Get it together with eight of your hottie friends and make everyone in the amphibious assault jealous of your #SquadGoals.

  1. A Grappling Hook

Nonstop cardio will only get you so far. For the rockiest outcrops, try a large grappling hook. Postcard beaches may be smooth and sandy, but Pointe Du Hoc looks like a rock climbing gym without the crag bunnies to belay. Not only is this a killer core workout, there’s also a machine gun nest full of krauts at the top to neutralize. Not enough? Look into a Bangalore torpedo to kick your landing up a notch.

  1. Have a goal in mind

Getting a killer beach body is easier if you have a role model. Find someone you idealize, like Pvt. Carlton W. Barrett, who was forced to wade ashore in neck deep water on D-day and returned to the beach repeatedly to assist causalities to an offshore boat and help others to shore while floundering in the rough surf–all while being pinned down by German mortar and machine gun fire. Paste a picture of Barrett to the inside of your gym locker, and before every workout say, “today’s time on the elliptical is dedicated to your coolness and natural leadership under direct fire.” Look at yourself in the mirror while you’re lifting, and say, “Looking more like Carlton every day.”

  1. Dehumanizing the enemy

You can be physically fit, but making that toned body a killer body is all about the mindset. One helpful tip is to dehumanize the enemy. Practice these visualization drills on your landing craft: see your enemy in an exaggerated, mutated form, then give them a callous nickname. Remember, a killer beach body takes some work, but you can’t argue with the results.

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Duffel Blog Presents

Duffel Blog Presents: The Twelve Days of Leave

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Duffel Blog is proud to present “The Twelve Days of Leave” in keeping with wonderful Christmas military traditions.

On the first day of leave, my dependa gave to me,

A preheated MRE.

On the second day of leave, my dependa gave to me,

Two safety briefs, and a preheated MRE.

On the third day of leave, my dependa gave to me,

Three car payments, two safety briefs and a preheated MRE.

On the fourth day of leave, my dependa gave to me,

Four babies crying, three car payments, two safety briefs and a preheated MRE.

On the fifth day of leave, my dependa gave to me,

Five NJPs, four crying babies, three car payments, two safety briefs and a preheated MRE.

On the sixth day of leave, my dependa gave to me,

Six machine guns jamming, five NJPs, four crying babies, three car payments, two safety briefs and a preheated MRE.

On the seventh day of leave, my dependa gave to me,

Seven trucks a-breaking, six machine guns jamming, five NJPs, four crying babies, three car payments, two safety briefs and a preheated MRE.

On the eighth day of leave, my dependa gave to me,

Eight sergeants screaming, seven trucks a-breaking, six machine guns jamming, five NJPs, four crying babies, three car payments, two safety briefs and a preheated MRE.

On the ninth day of leave, my dependa gave to me,

Nine majors talking, eight sergeants screaming, seven trucks a-breaking, six machine guns jamming, five NJPs, four crying babies, three car payments, two safety briefs and a preheated MRE.

On the tenth day of leave, my dependa gave to me,

Ten helos crashing, nine majors talking, eight sergeants screaming, seven trucks a-breaking, six machine guns jamming, five NJPs, four crying babies, three car payments, two safety briefs and a preheated MRE.

On the eleventh day of leave, my dependa gave to me,

Eleven civilians sleeping, ten helos crashing, nine majors talking, eight sergeants screaming, seven trucks a-breaking, six machine guns jamming, five NJPs, four crying babies, three car payments, two safety briefs and a preheated MRE.

On the twelfth day of leave, my dependa gave to me,

Twelve drones-a-droning, eleven civilians sleeping, ten helos crashing, nine majors talking, eight sergeants screaming, seven trucks a-breaking, six machine guns jamming, five NJPs, four crying babies, three car payments, two safety briefs and a preheated MRE.

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Duffel Blog Presents

Duffel Blog Presents: Holiday gift ideas for your favorite vetbro

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You honored the hell out of your military friends and family for Veterans Day. And the Marine Corps birthday. And the Fourth of July. And Memorial Day. And Labor Day for some reason. But now what do you get the ultimate veteran for Christmas? Don’t sweat it. Duffel Blog’s got you.

Our editors curated the perfect gift assortment for every vetbro on your nice list, no matter their EAS date or preferred holiday. Don’t forget to use the code ‘heroworship’ when you check out because of course there is a veteran discount.

1. Woobie Robe: This comfy AF bathrobe has the look and smell of a foxhole-tested poncho liner with the added absorption of French terry cloth to ward off trench crotch. And it has pockets!

2. Ranger Up Shirt-of-the-Month Club: Your special vet gets the same moto t-shirt in a bigger size every month.

3. Ibuprofen Advent calendar: Treat them to Christmas-flavored pain relief all month with eggnog, peppermint, and gingerbread delights. Background choices include pinks and greens Santa or Arlington gravestones dusted with snow.

4. Personalized MARPAT Menorah: You can order hand-crafted candles that resemble all your warrior’s favorite officers so she can burn them in effigy for all the times they burned her.

5. Campaign medal nipple clamps: We know you love to hurt, so bust out your ho-ho-ho with this super moto, super sexy gift that will keep Christmas coming all year round. Kuwait Liberation Medal clamp set currently on back-order.

6. CLP-infused body butter: Impress the armory custodian in your life with just the right hint of scent and just the right touch of lube. Here’s one gift he won’t hand back.

7. Blood stripe Festivus pole: Air your grievances with Marine Corps flair!

8. ‘Veteran’s Little Helper’ Santa hat for your buddy’s service dog: Because your disabled veteran friend’s sole personality trait is that he has a service animal.

9. A blowjob: That’s actually all your veteran wants. Give this gift and be a real holiday hero. No discount code required.

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Army

Report: Jody opening your wife’s border while you protect ours

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DONNA, Texas — Many U.S. Army spouses and their extramarital lovers are rejoicing following the deployment of their partners to the Mexican Border in support of border security operations, according to reports.

This past Monday marked the first official day of the recently launched operation, a measure the Department of Defense is taking to “strengthen border security.”

It also marked the first opportunity for the partners of those deployed troops to openly philander in their now spouse-less household, a chance some are choosing not to let slip by.

“I thought he would never get deployed, honestly,” said Audrey Timmons, whose husband, Spc. Jason Timmons of Headquarters Battalion, 4th Infantry Division, is currently serving near the border. “I have been itching to get into some strange for a while now. All of my friends who married into the military say it’s what has kept their marriages going for so long.”

The opportunity to philander isn’t only a celebration for those whose spouses are deployed, but also for eager-to-ruin-a-marriage soldiers and civilians, commonly referred to as “Jody” in military circles.

Chad Stevens, a self-described “lifetime Jody” and mechanic at a local auto body shop located near Fort Carson, Co., home to the 4th Infantry Division, says he plans to “wreck some first sergeant’s wife into oblivion” during the course of the unit’s time away.

“I mean everybody in the country knows this mission is a complete joke, but, yeah this was definitely a nice little surprise,” Stevens said. “Afghanistan has been drawing down for a few years now, so people have been coming back and fixing their marriages and shit, and that has really put a damper on my sex life considering all the action I get is from lonely military housewives. I am really looking forward to getting back out there.”

When asked if he considers his behavior or the cheating spouses’ actions to be in poor taste, Stevens was quick to defend, calling himself “a true patriot.”

“Look, I am giving just as much to the overall mission as these deployed soldiers are,” he said. “While they’re out there on the front lines serving our country and protecting us from that caravan of immigrants, which may or may not actually be real, I’m in their houses, on their sofas, in their showers, and on their beds, servicing their wives.”

Soldiers currently supporting border security operations will be gone until mid-December, and although not a typical U.S. Army deployment length, the mission still allows “plenty of time for spouses to cheat,” according to Sandy Alderman, the Family Readiness Group lead to Headquarters Battalion, 4th Infantry Division and the now third wife to its commander, Col. Brian Alderman.

“The odds haven’t been this high since Desert Storm,” Alderman said. “All we can do is support those soldiers who undoubtedly will be cheated on, man or woman. I urge those folks to just take care of themselves, and just know that you are fighting the good fight and helping make our country great again.”

Gen. Terrence O’Shaughnessy, commander of the U.S. Northern Command and North American Aerospace Defense Command, and Kevin McAleenan, the Customs and Border Protection commissioner, shared similar sentiments in regards to the mission during a news conference last week, referring to the current immigration status as a “humanitarian crisis” and that the focus of the mission, is to “harden the points of entry.”

Stevens, however, remains bullish on the border situation in Mexico.

“There is no crisis, everybody knows that. The only crisis is the stain I am about to leave on all those soldiers’ sheets,” he said, winking emphatically. “In fact, I’m going to be opening a lot of borders, if you know what I mean. And make no mistake, I will be hard at the point of entry.”

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Duffel Blog Presents

DUFFEL BLOG PRESENTS: Tucker Max gives your weekend safety brief

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tucker max

It was Friday in Camp Lejeune, the Marine base in North Carolina, where a lot of Marines are stationed. A bunch of grunts (those are Marines who are infantry Marines) were gathered on the field but not in formation yet, because they hadn’t been called to formation, but they were going to be soon.

The grunts were talking about all the cool parties and things they were going to do, mostly planning to drink a lot, and bang whores and sluts. One of the Marines, named SteelBlade because names like that are cool, said “I’m going to get so much pussy this weekend!”

Another Marine named DragonKnife, said “I’m going to get SO MUCH pussy! And have lots of alcohol and more sex!”

Steelblade: “Here comes Staff Sgt. Drunkrage Python!” The Marines fell into formation as Staff Sgt. Drunkrage Python walked up. He was a good looking, strong man, who had a giant dick, and got laid all the time because he was a super cool Marine man.

“Listen up Marines!” Drunkrage Python shouted, his voice was loud, and all the Marines listened up, because they respected Drunkrage Python. “Let me tell you a story about what I did last weekend, and I don’t want you to do any of it!”

Drunkrage Python: “I went out to a bar and started drinking but the place was bullshit because they didn’t have well.” (Drunkrage Python said ‘well’ like he heard someone say ‘well drinks’ once but didn’t want to admit he didn’t know what it meant so he said it in a way that didn’t make sense.)

“So I got really drunk and I noticed this girl was giving me the eye, and she was a genuine five star, like skinny runway model with massive tits, and so I go over to her, and I say ‘Hi,’ and she blew me in the bathroom. After the blowjob I started driving her back to her place, to have sex with her, and her three other model roommates, and I dropped her off, and went to park. I tried to park but I drove the car into a dry cleaners.”

“I realized I had to get out of there, so I jumped out of the car, but my stomach started gurgling, and I shit my pants right there, and wiped my ass with a Japanese businessman’s suit. Then I ran out of the dry cleaners because nobody had called the cops or anything. This is exactly how this all happened.

“The night was still young so I went to a strip club nearby, and a super hot stripper started giving me a lap dance. Then she asked if I wanted to rent a champagne room and I talked her into paying for it, and we went back there and we totally fucked.”

“After that I realized the model, and all her friends were still waiting for me, so I started going back to their place, but some big meathead dude stopped me and was like ‘hey I know you, you’re Drunkrage Python!’ and I was like ‘yeah so what?’ and he was like ‘you slept with my girlfriend!’ and I was like ‘yeah I probably did but I don’t remember because I bang so many whores,’ and he was like ‘don’t call my girl a whore!’ He tried to hit me but I kicked his ass.

“Then I went and had sex with all five of the model chicks who were all smoking hot.”

Drunkrage Python paused so his story would sink in with the Marines. He spoke again.

Drunkrage Python: “But I do stuff like that all the time so I forgot about it until a few minutes ago. Oh yeah, I also fucked a midget once. They’re going to make a movie about it. It’s going to be the #1 R-rated comedy of all time, because it’s so hilarious, and everyone in Hollywood has no idea what they’re doing, which is why my movie is going to be so amazingly awesome, and hilarious.”

“If you’re going to do stuff like that, make sure you’re cool, but you’re all cool because you’re Marines, you can do all this crazy stuff and never run into the cops at all.”

The Marines nodded. They understood. They each bought 50 copies of Drunkrage Python’s book and a bunch of female Marines went to Drunkrage Python’s website and applied to have sex with him. He only had sex with the hotties.

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Air Force

DUFFEL BLOG PRESENTS: 15 questions for your new interpreter

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1. WHAT IS YOUR NAME?

2. Why are you 3 hours late?

3. Wait, you were just a goat farmer yesterday?

4. Jesus Christ, what do you mean you need to get back to your goats?

5. No, I don’t want a goat, will you just get in the damn truck?

6. Does anybody know where the hell we got this guy from?

7. No sir, we are still five mikes out. Did you know he was a goat farmer?

8. Why can’t you get out of the truck?

9. You don’t think I know it’s dangerous here?

10. Will you just put your helmet on, so we can go talk to this guy?

11. Is this man an insurgent?

12. What do you mean “what is an insurgent?”

13. I don’t feel like I am yelling at you, do you feel like I am yelling at you?

14. What the hell, you’re quitting???

15. (To self, roughly two weeks later): Wait, why is my old interpreter shooting at us?

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