Thursday, July 2, 2009

Bored Days in Kamaliyah; Introduction: New Writer

I've allowed a new writer, who refuses to be identified, but goes by the surname Auvandril Broadsword, to give his creative genius a try on my blog post. I'm sure he hasn't quite completed high school, or even grammar school for that matter, so please do not be too harsh on his work. Enjoy. -Benson J Wright


Kamaliyah, some would argue that it's arabic root meaning is Flawless, others would argue that, that meaning is a lot deeper. Deeper in the since that it means Stronghold of Whores. Whatever the meaning actually is, I'm sure only philosophers of philanthropists or psychiatrists know. What it really means to us, is hell. Hell on earth.

It's not that the hot 'blonde' which we look at from just over a 2 iron away isn't a happy spot in our most boring guard shifts, or the fact that we patrol with lunatics who are just as bad as any of the criminals we go after. None of those things help or hurt our situation here. It's the constant attack of badgers and other small furry rodents, or in our case large ones that keep us awake at night. They test the perimeter of your fighting position without rest or fail. It's these bastards which scurry around that have the power to give you night terrors.

Occasionally, you find yourself dozing off while protecting the indigenous forces of the base, and you're near a perfect, peaceful slumber, when they attack. They are ballsy sons of bitches. Not even the Duke himself, or Chuck Norris could stand toe to toe with the courage that these shiesty little bastards have. Not only are the brave, but they are sneaky too. They take the bait right off of the over sized, undersized, and right sized traps that we lay for them. I once even wasted three magazines of ammunition and 2 grenades trying to kill one. Relentless these real enemies of AT 4 are.

You set down your beef jerky, or soft drink, and though you don't hear a sound, or even hear the distracting sound of one crawling above your head, playing his rap music and break dancing, the second you reach into your bag, you feel nothing. They've already gotten to it. Some elaborate mission impossible rats bastards. You go to take a sip of your sweet nectar of Mountain Dew, and behold, a surprise super ninja rat leaps at your face! The flamethrower and C4 is barely enough to get the S O B to let go of your face.

Some are worried about Vehicle Borne Improvised Explosive Devices. Some are scared that a rocket or mortar will hit them where they lay. Or a radical Muslim terrorist will run at them with a suicide vest, or possibly blasting an AK-47 or RPG. I'm not worried. That would be a blessing. A freedom away from the rat creatures that lurk on the fourth floor. I mean, they've even started to issue diapers for force pro up there, that's scary shit. I knew a guy who went face to face with one of these over sized muroidea. Before he took a vow of silence to work in a monastery, I think the same one Jet Li studied at, he told me when the reddish eyes rose from ground level to eye level with him, he knew his Scottish Claymore and Battle Axe were mere toys for this beast to bat away with its giant claws, and talons. Yes, these rats even have talons. Super hip and fly rats with talons and ninja type abilities. If you plan on coming to Iraq, hope you only run into terrorists, America.

-Auvandril Broadsword

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