Legless Weather, and Hot Women. Or Something Like That

Turn the blow dryer that's pelting the back of my neck with an unrelentless amount of heat is what I thought. I stirred awake while still in the sitting position on the hood of the truck leaned against the drivers windshield glass. Sweat rolled down my brow and had already streaked my sunglasses with what once was precipitation but now only recognizable as a line of parted dust upon the lens. While this was the third straight hour of sitting in the hot sun, our commander continued to deal with humanitarian aid and relations of mistakes made, and incorrect building blown up. It was at this waking moment, this small segment of time that I realised it's only 90 degrees outside, and it's terribly hot.

Stephen Hawkings Other Ride

Our mission today was to escort our company commander to the headquarters of the National Police and help them with save Iraq, and America. We passed our wheelchairs to all kinds of different people. I slept the majority of the time during this operation, and tried to work on my farmers tan. However I did notice that most of the people we ended up giving these free wheel chairs to, had missing limbs. Probably lost them when we accidentally bombed there building, or due to our enemy exploding roadside bombs in crowded marketplaces.

The problem that I saw with the wheel chairs, which I'm sure were donated by a great American country with all the right intentions meant, was that they were poorly constructed. They had bicycle tires for wheels, and plastic lawn chairs for seats. The retarded guy that was getting one seemed very happy regardless I think though. A kid with some kind of leg deformity had a really nice wheelchair, and I'm sure was less than stellar on getting this new piece of crap that will probably have already broken by now, 10 hours later. In the end I guess the people got something for free, on the American tax payer once again.

Iraqi Woman With No Legs

At the end of the seven hour operation I felt accomplished to say the least. I caught a bunch of Z's and talked Lola's ear off. Lola is the Hula Dancer that sits in the front seat with me. She has the voice of an angel and plays her ukulele like Hendrix (totally just googled it for spelling). She thinks it's getting hot too.

Lola

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