So, there I was, last year in the last weekend of July on a beautiful, scorching hot day in my Kayak with four good men I can only describe with wonderful adjectives and cuss words in one sentence.
This was a three day long adventure on the river, with miles of water to paddle through and rocks/trees/fallen trees to maneuver over/around.
We came to a clearing where the water was too shallow for the yaks to glide through, and the river bed beneath that crystal clear water gave us all some sort of glistening energy because we thought we'd be enjoying a fun little walk for the next half of a mile.
It started off with a distant hum, to which we wondered, "what is that sound?"
The hum started to vibrate...and then, we saw what awaited, ahead, in a cloud of thousands.
There were horses...there were deer.
But of the fly variety, darting around in the thick of it like a goddamned plague.
I hit that wall of bug-hell hard enough to nearly give me a nosebleed. I kid you not, I never in my life had seen so many winged monster-fucks in my life.
They were, like any deer/horse flies, out for blood...and we were not going to win the war or the battles.
I and four grown-ass men ran, screaming in a frantic rage, whilst slapping our arms about like inflatable car-lot mascots, for a quarter of a mile before realizing we all had weapons.
With zero words spoken, we each ripped the canisters of bug-spray we packed, from our kayaks, and sprinted atop the gravely river bed with a new found courage as the sound of our roars were accompanied by the hissing of our bug-cannons.
Did they dare follow us, as the end neared? Fuck no. They glanced about their bug-selves and had to have thought, "...bzzzzzzzzzzzzzz."
Needless to say...we ran out of bug spray.
And there were more plagued bug clouds to come.
...But shit, y'all...that is the story which led to my new love for spiders and centipedes. Because Fuck those flies, that's why.
So there I was in Vegas. The Fighter Squadron I was assigned to had a temporary duty assignment to Luke AFB, and they put us up in a hotel right on the strip. One weekend, after two days of non-stop drinking, one of the airmen I was hanging out with decided to rent a hooker for us. They took turns. One person would go in the room with her for about 10-20 minutes, then the next.
I was third in line of maybe 6 of us. Now, I completely blacked out, so the rest of this story is pieced together from the other airmen. But apparently, from outside the door, they heard me yell really loud, and then the door swung open, and the hooker said "Fuck you guys, I'm outta here." The other airmen went into the room and found me laying on the floor holding my crotch, and shouting "That cunt kicked me in the nuts!" They say I got up and started going room to room down the hallway of our hotel banging on the doors saying "Bring out the whore! She kicked my nuts!" They ushered me into my hotel room, and I proceeded to take off all my clothes and pee on my hotel-mate while he was sleeping.
The next day, I hopped the fence where they were still building the Paris hotel and casino at the time and I climbed the Eiffel tower and started acting like I was King Kong swatting down aircraft and helicoptors. Somehow I managed to get through all that without getting caught and arrested.
The NEXT day, they called roll call down by the pool in back of the place. I donned a viking helmet that I bought at the Excalibur casino and found a window overlooking the military meeting and, using my best impression of Ogre from Revenge of the Nerds, I started shouting "Nerds!!" at the meeting members, which included my commander. Lucky for me he had a sense of humor and I wasn't even so much as written up for it.