Personal Log, Stardate 200605.29
So it's been about four or five days since I last updated. As a matter of fact, nobody will read this log until I can get an internet connection. And that's about a month away. But hey, you'll have plenty of reading material when I finally upload these.
I wonder how my friends are doing. Haha, if I thought I was lonely before, this is a special kind of hell. Especially with all of these Midshipmen around. I fucking hate these damned pussy middies. My god, you know what they were bitching about? Chief wanted to talk to them, and they wanted to go on their three day weekend. I know guys who don't take weekends. Hell, even in Boot, they only gave us half of Sunday off, and that was for eight fucking weeks. This is only four, and they can't even handle missing a few hours of their three day weekend.
And the staff isn't any help either. You know, I could understand logging out if I wanted to go on liberty or leave the base, but signing back in when I haven't even left? What the fuck!? Look, here, Chief. Here's my hand. Hold it all you want, but you'd better be helpin' out when I need to take a piss. Hell, why don't you swing for a reach-around? You're going to have to get used to jerking off Midshipmen anyway, you're going to be babying us for a month as it is.
If I was our Chief, I would start punching some fucking middies in the fucking face. But no, he's treating us like we're already JOs. Being a Yeoman is no excuse, he's gotta be fucking hard to be a Chief.
And don't get me started on standards. I hope, somewhere in the bowels of our Navy's history, that they intentionally set the bar high so our failures were better than everyone else's heroes. 'Cause, y'know, it's like nobody gives a damn about the fucking rules, or the standards, or a higher calling. Or fuck, Honor, Courage, and Commitment. It would be really fucking nice to meet someone with a fucking shred of morality.
But hey, what the fuck do I know? I'm just a damned dirty Midshipman.
-Smiley
I wonder how my friends are doing. Haha, if I thought I was lonely before, this is a special kind of hell. Especially with all of these Midshipmen around. I fucking hate these damned pussy middies. My god, you know what they were bitching about? Chief wanted to talk to them, and they wanted to go on their three day weekend. I know guys who don't take weekends. Hell, even in Boot, they only gave us half of Sunday off, and that was for eight fucking weeks. This is only four, and they can't even handle missing a few hours of their three day weekend.
And the staff isn't any help either. You know, I could understand logging out if I wanted to go on liberty or leave the base, but signing back in when I haven't even left? What the fuck!? Look, here, Chief. Here's my hand. Hold it all you want, but you'd better be helpin' out when I need to take a piss. Hell, why don't you swing for a reach-around? You're going to have to get used to jerking off Midshipmen anyway, you're going to be babying us for a month as it is.
If I was our Chief, I would start punching some fucking middies in the fucking face. But no, he's treating us like we're already JOs. Being a Yeoman is no excuse, he's gotta be fucking hard to be a Chief.
And don't get me started on standards. I hope, somewhere in the bowels of our Navy's history, that they intentionally set the bar high so our failures were better than everyone else's heroes. 'Cause, y'know, it's like nobody gives a damn about the fucking rules, or the standards, or a higher calling. Or fuck, Honor, Courage, and Commitment. It would be really fucking nice to meet someone with a fucking shred of morality.
But hey, what the fuck do I know? I'm just a damned dirty Midshipman.
-Smiley