To The Pain

In case you haven't figured it out by now, I have a rather twisted sense of humor and a deep abiding fondness for Monty Python, Mel Brooks, Boondock Saints and The Princess Bride. And last night's meeting and the complete and utter inability of rear-d to actually narrow down the window of homecoming to less than a fucking month has made me decide that the CoC's greatest joy in life is to torture wives to the point of insanity and leave them dangling over the abyss of death without striking the final blow that might give any of us some fucking peace!!! Like that infamous scene from the Princess Bride:

Prince Humperdinck: First things first, to the death.

Westley: No. To the pain.

Prince Humperdinck: I don't think I'm quite familiar with that phrase.

Westley: I'll explain and I'll use small words so that you'll be sure to understand, you warthog faced buffoon.

Prince Humperdinck: That may be the first time in my life a man has dared insult me.

Westley: It won't be the last. To the pain means the first thing you will lose will be your feet below the ankles. Then your hands at the wrists. Next your nose.

Prince Humperdinck: And then my tongue I suppose, I killed you too quickly the last time. A mistake I don't mean to duplicate tonight.

Westley: I wasn't finished. The next thing you will lose will be your left eye followed by your right.

Prince Humperdinck: And then my ears, I understand let's get on with it.

Westley: WRONG. Your ears you keep and I'll tell you why. So that every shriek of every child at seeing your hideousness will be yours to cherish. Every babe that weeps at your approach, every woman who cries out, "Dear God! What is that thing," will echo in your perfect ears. That is what to the pain means. It means I leave you in anguish, wallowing in freakish misery forever.

"Leave you in anguish, wallowing in freakish misery forever. . . " Yep. That about sums up the way I feel after that farce of a meeting. And all the presenters up from smiling from ear to ear and telling us all how great it is that we have such a great turnout for this reintegration brief. Isn't it Hamlet who said, "that one may smile and smile and be a villain." Well, you fucking fiends, there's a great turnout because we all came wanting to know one thing: WHEN THE FUCK ARE YOU BRINGING MY HUSBAND HOME!!??!! So don't stand up there and grin at me and give a timeframe that encompasses a month and expect me to enjoy the shit sandwich you just handed me!!

So I have now moved from slightly depressed and nervous about homecoming to just fucking livid! Come on people. This isn't my first pony ride. I know how this works and don't try to tell me you don't have some kind of manifest for the flights already done. Accountability happens when the boys actually board but the Army doesn't make a move without having it planned, signed in triplicate, redone, reversed, hanging on the flagpole, and then jizzed on by all the NCOs. This is bullshit. So now I'm angry and still not sleeping and horny, and only God (and the not so forthcoming with the info CoC) knows when it's going to fucking end.

It's times like these when I'm really fucking glad that I have kids who need me, because I'm not sure that I would be able to refrain from attempting to beat the info I want out of people. Kind of hard to take of kids when you're behind bars. . .