Sorry this update is so late in reaching everyone. I think that I have found a way to upload some crap, so this should be sporadic but more complete than usual.
To date, I have been busy as heck, but we have a turtle pond here so I spend a few moments each day checking on the turtles and pondering trying to get into that gig the next time around. Seriously, how cool would it be to be a turtle? Personally, I think that it would be awesome. I mean the five we have here are pretty cool. they spend the day sunning themselves then take a dip in the pond when things get too hot. Life at its finest!
Other than that, I am trying to work my way through a book titled Quicksilver I would love to tell you all what it is about, but I honestly have no clue. Once I figure it out, I will definitely let you know. So far it is about Sir Issac Newton's sidekick.
Next time I will have more entries, till then enjoy the attached photo of Saddam's toilet (I pooped in it!)
Mojo
02/13/2010
Well, there was the trip to Baghdad that spurred some interest. Then there was the trip back to Basrah. That sucked. A journey of a few hundred miles by air took nearly a day of standing and waiting…and waiting… and waiting for the plane, helicopter, bus, etc to arrive. Once we landed in Basrah, three busses passed us buy before I went to the curb, flashed some calf, and got one of the transports to stop long enough for us to load up and finally get back to the room.
After being sealed for three days, the room’s funk had taken on a visceral consistency and I literally had to chop my way through the sheer funk of ass and sweat that had embedded into the very fabric of reality within the four metal walls. The window was thrown open, and the fan turned to high which, four hours later, has afforded us some measure of comfort. Still, I will need to redouble our supply of Lysol and disinfectants.
I miss you all terribly, and my thoughts drift in and out of home to the tune of my iPod shuffle. Memories rise to the surface like familiar scents, recreating the times I have shared with each and every one of you. The trips down side streets choked with incense and paved with cobbled stone and foreign accents. They lead through meadows and fields of tobacco haze and riffing chords. The choke of bodies moving to the rhythm of a back country band or a fresh local trio brings tears of nostalgia to my mind. So raise a bottle of PBR or Red Dog, or Licher for me and toast to the good times past and those sure to come. It is my nightly prayer that I will live them as fondly as I remember them in the days to come.
Mojo out.
It would be great to be a turtle unless you were one in Singapore, China, New Orleans, Philly, the UK, etc. I bet someone puts them into a soup before you leave!
ReplyDeleteI can't believe the iPod tunes haven't brought you back to a completely wet bathroom, sitting in a cube all day doing nothing, really hot town hall meetings, or a guy with a triangle for a head.