Jan. 25th, 2006
Rocky Talley, USMC
Jan. 25th, 2006 10:54 pmRocky has now been at Paris Island (for Marines basic training) for about 5 days. I wonder how he's doing. It still feels strange to think that my little brother, the one who used to be a cute little boy with white-blonde hair, who used to tell cashiers at the grocery store he was wearing Mario underwear, who used to spend hours with his nose buried in books, who used to be afraid of alien abductions, Bigfoot, and the Abominable Snowman (just like I was,) who used to line up all his Hot Wheels cars perfectly every night before bed, who I tricked into believing had an alien named Toggle living under his bed... this little boy is now going through boot camp, Full Metal Jacket style.
I told him not to leave any jelly donuts in his foot locker.
I hope he's alright. He's one of those people who finds humor in everything (just like me,) so if anyone has trouble "wiping that shit-eating smirk" off their face, it'll be him. He told me that when they called to do one of the million phone interviews, the guy thought he was high. HA HA. Really, he was just chuckling because he found it funny that they asked whether he had any illegitimate children.
I know he's all grown up now, 20 years old, and has a good head on his shoulders. I know he knows better than most recruits what he's getting into. But it still bothers me to think that my little brother might be having a rough time. :( Cause the Marines don't fuck around. This ain't no pansy-ass Navy training, and it's not like the Army where they allow you to yell words of encouragement as your fellow recruits navigate obstacles. From what I know, it's the toughest training in the US military.
The thought of someone yelling at my little brother, making him stand in gas chambers til he vomits, or do 100 push ups... well, it just bothers me. He'll always be that little boy in the Mario underwear watching David the Gnome to me.
Well Rock, good luck, man. And don't tell anyone I named you after a baby monster on Sesame Street. Because then you really will be Gomer Pyle. ;)
I told him not to leave any jelly donuts in his foot locker.
I hope he's alright. He's one of those people who finds humor in everything (just like me,) so if anyone has trouble "wiping that shit-eating smirk" off their face, it'll be him. He told me that when they called to do one of the million phone interviews, the guy thought he was high. HA HA. Really, he was just chuckling because he found it funny that they asked whether he had any illegitimate children.
I know he's all grown up now, 20 years old, and has a good head on his shoulders. I know he knows better than most recruits what he's getting into. But it still bothers me to think that my little brother might be having a rough time. :( Cause the Marines don't fuck around. This ain't no pansy-ass Navy training, and it's not like the Army where they allow you to yell words of encouragement as your fellow recruits navigate obstacles. From what I know, it's the toughest training in the US military.
The thought of someone yelling at my little brother, making him stand in gas chambers til he vomits, or do 100 push ups... well, it just bothers me. He'll always be that little boy in the Mario underwear watching David the Gnome to me.
Well Rock, good luck, man. And don't tell anyone I named you after a baby monster on Sesame Street. Because then you really will be Gomer Pyle. ;)
Gotta look sharp!
Jan. 25th, 2006 11:47 pmAH HA HA HA, Option 30 performance!!!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dFkIVidc6DQ
You rock that mullet and tux, Trent. ;)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dFkIVidc6DQ
You rock that mullet and tux, Trent. ;)