Listen up you mealy-mouthed malcontents…FALL IN!!!
First Sergeant Moriarti is still recovering from Hurricane Irma (and probably a bottle of Scotch) so Chop “broke the glass in case of emergency” and unleashed Hell upon Gruntworks Company…ME.
Chop, Face, Big Irish…get that fucking power back on ASAP at your houses so we can get back to business. Speaking of business, our main page on The Book of Face is fucking GONE! No explanation, no note, no reach-around…just gone. We are here on the backup page and I need all of you to grab your battle buddies and migrate them over here for a like and a follow. We will not be defeated…we always have a Plan B.
Don’t drink and drive. Don’t text and drive. Don’t do anything and drive…except DRIVE!
Don’t do drugs…that shit makes you foggy-minded and unaware of reality.
Recognize the difference between meat and fish: If you beat your fish…it will DIE!
Hydrate this weekend. 12-mile ruck march on Monday, 0530hrs formation. Bring a ruck…make sure it weighs at least 50 pounds. You don’t want it to weigh less than 50 pounds…or it will weigh MUCH more when I get done filling it with sand.
Platoon Sergeants, take charge…make a quick police call of the motor pool and release your troops.
CSM Dickie – OUT