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The Green Machine Well I thought it was funny!

Outgoing Company Commander: ‘I Hate You All’ by Duffel Blog Staff

The following is a transcript of outgoing company commander Capt. Vince Miller’s change of command speech:

Good morning everyone. I’d normally begin with our unit motto, but after two and a half years of starting every meeting and discussion with it, I just don’t think I can stomach it anymore. So I’ll say good morning like a normal human being.

I should probably thank my battalion commander for the opportunity to command this company over the last few years, in both combat and garrison, but I think I’d rather go out into the parking lot and key his car for saddling me with the greatest collection of idiots, malingerers, and criminals that have ever walked the face of this earth.

You’ll notice my wife and daughters aren’t here sitting in the audience today. That’s because Sheila left me six months ago when I had to skip our 10th anniversary trip to Jamaica so I could come in on a Sunday for unit PT, since one of you dipshits decided to go out and get his third DUI.

I wasn’t allowed to go to marriage counseling last year when our relationship was on the rocks because the commander had said that soldiers were the priority. So instead I gave my slot to Private Steadman and his former prostitute wife who he met on R&R in Brazil the month prior. Once they got back, she took all his money and Steadman killed himself. So thanks for that.

Do any of you morons have any clue how much paperwork it causes when you blow your sad little heads off? At least have the courtesy to go AWOL first. But for fuck’s sake don’t come back for at least 30 days so I can drop you off my books and let someone else deal with the meatsack of failure that is your existence.

This would now be the part of the speech where I talk about our glorious combat achievements. Too bad, there’s nothing glorious about walking around Afghanistan for 12 months finding IEDs with your feet. Now I’m deaf in one ear, have almost a pound of shrapnel in my ass, and occasionally I wake up screaming for no fucking reason. But you know what? That doesn’t make me a goddamned hero. That was the worst part about coming back. Not my empty home, empty bed, or shattered dreams. No, it was listening to you fuckwads thump your chests and talk about how badass you all were. Did any one of you actually get a confirmed kill over there? One?

I didn’t think so.

So in closing, let me say this. Thank you for the countless weekends I lost with my daughters because I had to deal with your trivial bullshit. Thank you for the two suicide investigations that forced me to cancel training events I’d planned for almost a year. And most importantly, thank you for the dishonesty, poor accountability, and outright theft of almost two million dollars in equipment, which is why I won’t be receiving another paycheck until February.

May God smite you all with the power of a thousand suns, and your souls be condemned to Hell for eternity.

And to the incoming commander. Good luck and God bless you for making such terrible life choices.

There’s a bottle of scotch in the third drawer of my desk. You’re going to need it.

I hate you all.

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The Green Machine Well I thought it was funny!

Outgoing Company Commander: ‘I Hate You All’

The following is a transcript of outgoing company commander Capt. Vince Miller’s change of command speech.

Good morning everyone. I’d normally begin with our unit motto, but after two and a half years of starting every meeting and discussion with it, I just don’t think I can stomach it anymore. So I’ll say good morning like a normal human being.

I should probably thank my battalion commander for the opportunity to command this company over the last few years, in both combat and garrison, but I think I’d rather go out into the parking lot and key his car for saddling me with the greatest collection of idiots, malingerers, and criminals that have ever walked the face of this earth.

You’ll notice my wife and daughters aren’t here sitting in the audience today. That’s because Sheila left me six months ago when I had to skip our 10th anniversary trip to Jamaica so I could come in on a Sunday for unit PT, since one of you dipshits decided to go out and get his third DUI.

I wasn’t allowed to go to marriage counseling last year when our relationship was on the rocks because the commander had said that soldiers were the priority. So instead I gave my slot to Private Steadman and his former prostitute wife who he met on R&R in Brazil the month prior. Once they got back, she took all his money and Steadman killed himself. So thanks for that.

Do any of you morons have any clue how much paperwork it causes when you blow your sad little heads off? At least have the courtesy to go AWOL first. But for fuck’s sake don’t come back for at least 30 days so I can drop you off my books and let someone else deal with the meat sack of failure that is your existence.

This would now be the part of the speech where I talk about our glorious combat achievements. Too bad, there’s nothing glorious about walking around Afghanistan for 12 months finding IEDs with your feet. Now I’m deaf in one ear, have almost a pound of shrapnel in my ass, and occasionally I wake up screaming for no fucking reason.

But you know what? That doesn’t make me a goddamned hero. That was the worst part about coming back. Not my empty home, empty bed, or shattered dreams. No, it was listening to you fuckwads thump your chests and talk about how badass you all were. Did any one of you actually get a confirmed kill over there? One?

I didn’t think so.

So in closing, let me say this. Thank you for the countless weekends I lost with my daughters because I had to deal with your trivial bullshit. Thank you for the two suicide investigations that forced me to cancel training events I’d planned for almost a year. And most importantly, thank you for the dishonesty, poor accountability, and outright theft of almost two million dollars in equipment, which is why I won’t be receiving another paycheck until February.

May God smite you all with the power of a thousand suns, and your souls be condemned to Hell for eternity.

And to the incoming commander. Good luck and God bless you for making such terrible life choices.

There’s a bottle of scotch in the third drawer of my desk. You’re going to need it.

I hate you all.

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Decorated War Hero, Airborne Ranger Emasculated By Wife At Local Mall by Duffel Blog Staff

KILLEEN, Texas — Sources confirmed that earlier this afternoon while sitting outside of a dressing room in a mall boutique, decorated soldier Samuel Williams was publicly dressed down by his twenty-four year old wife.

Williams, a Staff Sergeant who once killed a man with his bare hands, is an Airborne Ranger that has spent five of the past seven years in Iraq or Afghanistan. His wife, Jennifer Williams, works at the post commissary and is planning to go back to school to be a radiation therapy tech “or something like that.”

According to reports, after taking his wife out to “a nice lunch to spend some time together before his next deployment,” the couple went to the mall to pick up a few things for the baby they recently learned was on the way.

Shortly after arrival, Mrs. Williams spotted a cute little black dress in a window storefront and tugged at her husband’s arm with a wide grin in an effort to pull him into the store. After hesitating, Williams relented and followed his wife inside, where he then passed the time on a little bench by reading the latest edition of Cosmopolitan and silently recounting the many horrors which he had personally lived through.

“Hey, babe? Can you go out there and get me this in a size three?,” Jenny Williams said as she tossed a dress over the dressing room door. “Hey?! You there? Jesus, Sammy. Go get me a size three already!” she added from within the dressing area with a stomped foot.

Williams, the top graduate of his class in Ranger school, dutifully stood up and meandered over to the dressing room. He took the discarded dress. Head down and lip out, he shuffled aimlessly throughout the store in search of a cute little striped number in a size three – all the while carrying his wife’s purse. Before reaching the dress rack, a dull thud could be heard as his testicles fell out of the purse he was carrying. With a defeated sigh, he leaned over, picked them up, blew off the dust, and stuffed them back into the handbag.

Williams confusedly stared at the dress rack for a long moment in an effort to avoid the judgmental eyes of the shop’s other patrons. Ultimately, he returned with a size five, knocked on the dressing room door, and placed the dress in the dainty hand which appeared.

After a moment of silence, a howl emanated from the dressing room occupied by Mrs. Williams. The door swung open, and the petite woman stomped over to her husband — a man who once dropped three Iraqi insurgents at approximately 1,100 yards — sat dumbly and stared at her.

“I asked you for a size three! You think I’m so fat I need a five?” she demanded with her hands on her hips. “Either you think I’m fat or you’re just stupid!” she added.

Silver Star recipient and “hardcore, airborne motherfucker,” Williams opened his mouth to say something, but only one sound emerged.

“Urmmmm,” he said.

This response infuriated Mrs. Williams. Her eyes went wide, and she threw the dress at the Ranger before screaming into his face.

“You aren’t even paying attention to me! This is supposed to be our special day! I’m not fat! You don’t know what I have to do all day, sitting at home cooking all the meals and taking care of our children. I swear, all you are good for is waking me up at three in the damn morning by screaming and hollering in your sleep! You’re useless.”

Mrs. Williams then stormed out of the dressing area, through the boutique, and into the mall. Williams sighed gently to himself and stared at the floor. After a moment, he pushed himself up, which was made difficult by the ragged shrapnel embedded in his right kneecap. He quickly jogged after his wife.

During a hushed conversation in the mall’s food court, Williams apologized to his wife as she ate a slice of pizza from a paper plate.

“This pizza is so disgusting,” complained his wife. Upon hearing this, Williams’ mind wandered to the time he had to eat his dead battle buddy after being stranded behind enemy lines in Kosovo back in ’99.

After their snack, Williams hugged his wife, promised to pay more attention to her, and the couple returned to the boutique where they purchased the size three.

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This great Nation & Its People Well I thought it was funny!

Marine ‘Emotionally Exhausted’ By Having To Plan To Kill Everyone He Meets by Duffel Blog Staff

QUANTICO, Va. — Lance Cpl. Matt Bennet was admitted to Naval Medical Clinic Quantico with “emotional exhaustion” today after breaking down from the strain of “having a plan to kill everyone he meets,” according to sources in Bennet’s platoon.

“Like all real Marines, Bennet reveres Gen. [James] Mattis,” according to Bennet’s company commander, Capt. J.D. Maurer. “He takes the general’s orders, instructions and advice extremely seriously.”

“As do we all,” he added. “For instance, if I need to kill Bennet, I’m going to send him on a night march, and get him with a Claymore as he clears the tree line.”

According to fellow Marines, Bennet began the planning last summer at a Denny’s in Stafford, Va.

“My platoon sergeant gave me 60 seconds to explain my plan to kill the waitress, the bus boy, and the short order cook,” Bennet said. “And it was easy.”

“Break my plate on the bus boy’s head,” he recounted. “Those Denny’s plates weigh like 10 pounds, so he’s incapacitated at least. Grab the waitress, drag her into the kitchen, and stab her in the carotid with her pen. Then shove the cook’s head into the fryolator until he stops thrashing. Probably takes 90 seconds, unless I have to circle back around to finish off the unconscious bus boy.”

After that, Bennet says, the plans got more challenging.

“I was on an exercise, riding in the back of a C-130. I’m asking the crew chief what this hose does, and where that wire goes,” he said. “I’m looking around at all the other Marines thinking, ‘The trick isn’t killing you. It’s not killing me while I do it.’”

According to his friend, Sgt. Peter Roark, things started to go wrong on a trip to the National Zoo.

“He’s like, ‘Do I even have to have a plan to kill the animals?’” Roark said. “I mean, we’re not technically meeting them, but they’re sort of around. And he’s going, ‘They’re in cages, so do I just need to have plans to kill the ones in the petting zoo?’ And then he’s all, ‘Fuck it, not like you can turn this off. That panda was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. He’s getting a goddamn plan.’”

Things got worse when he went to a Mattis book signing at Kramerbooks & Afterwards in Washington.

Roark says when Bennet got to the front of the line, “Mattis looked straight at [Roark], and they both knew they had plans, but Mattis’ was better.”

He spiraled quickly after that.

“I can’t even eat breakfast anymore,” Bennet said. “I look at my kids and I have like 20 options. I could start by — ” He stopped speaking suddenly and began to sob.

When asked if he had a plan to kill his commanding officer, Bennet hedged. “I don’t want to get in trouble. So let’s just say that I know about Capt. Maurer’s Claymore mine, and if I were him, I’d be careful about stopping for coffee at Dunkin Donuts at 0635 every morning.”

Marine Base Quantico spokesman Maj. Roger Antilles told reporters no charges were pending against Bennet.

“Also,” he said, “my plan to kill all of you is to use the firehose on this wall to herd you into a corner. I have already locked the exits. My M9 has 15 rounds, and I can garrote any survivors with their credential lanyards.”

Duffel Blog Essayist Dark Laughter contributed to this report.

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