Sunday, July 21, 2013

Squish Flip... Squish Flop

Well this one here is nothing short...
of complete GREATNESS!


And NO I don't mean that I'm great, LoL

far... far from it.


The greatness falls

within the mind-numbing actions taken.
Actions that any one of you guys
would have taken... maybe!
Or... maybe not... :)


Have you guys ever done something

SO off the cuff, out of the blue,
that it just overwhelmed... well...
make that completely overwhelmed
an entire situation???


I'm sure the answer to that question...

is yes... LoL


You crazy bastards you!!
I'm right aren't I???


Well, this was one of those memorable

moments during navy boot camp
when all the stars aligned, and the
hammer of the gods would fall upon an unsuspecting douche bag. Giving hope
to the masses, that...
well that, perfection
comes in many many forms.


And in this instance...

perfection came in the actions
of yours truly.


KING... of all douche bags... LoL thank you!






Squish Flip… Squish Flop


This day began like every other day
during boot camp.


Shit, shower, shave, pray for a meteor to destroy the earth, then line up
and march to the mess hall.


Get to breakfast, locate your favorite girl from your sister company (All of the girls in the navy went through boot camp in Florida, with us!) and try to make any kind of physical contact possible without getting busted.


That was a no-no, according to the boot camp rulebook. Wait, did I just hear someone say rulebook!


HA! Like that was gonna stop us dudes.


It was our sworn duty to overcome all barriers, and confront the enemy using any means possible. Leaving no thought whatsoever
to personal injury.


Just a vow to our fellow squad members that yes, yes I say, that before the last bite be taken at the meal, that the feel of one's bosom within the confines of my bare hands, shall be witnessed!


Man, it was pretty crazy.


And although our success rate wasn’t anything to brag about, those few times we managed to actually cop a feel were well worth the 17,000 pushups we were ordered to do
when we did get caught.


Okay, so maybe it was more like a couple thousand pushups. There, is that better?
Haven’t you guys ever heard of poetic license?


Anyway, after breakfast the day continued with some more marching and other monotonous military bullshit. Then it was time for me to head over to the mess hall again for back dock duty.


Oh man, fuckin’ back dock duty. This was just the most disgusting thing I have ever been apart of in my life. I’m pretty sure at least.


Everyone has to work in the mess hall for a couple weeks during their stay in boot camp. It sucked in some ways, but was cool in others.


Tommy Mondello boot camp mess hall
These guys at the table were all part of my company. Company 42.
This was 1981... and suddenly it feels like just the other day!
Too fuckin' funny!


One good thing was that it broke up
the daily routine.


Another perk, was that it gave you a little freedom. I mean the navy wants everyone to do everything as a group. As you could probably tell by the Under The Gun bathroom tale
a few stories back.


So the freedom felt invigorating.


Also, you got to hang out with the girls
for a couple hours.


You see, even though they only worked in the main dining hall, they usually hung out with us in the back during their breaks. A peck here, a smooch there, we were taking anything
we could get at that point.


So, I made my way back to the mess hall and headed out to the dock. And yes I hear you askin’, what the fuck is this back dock thing?


It’s a loading dock, that’s all.


It’s an old, smelly, dirty, disgusting hell-hole of a loading dock! And, it was my home
for the next several weeks.


We ended up with all of the uneaten food from the day’s meals. The mess hall guys would drag barrels full of horrible smelling, uneaten,
navy food to me out back.


I’d have to line them up and wait for the pigman to show up.


This pigman would arrive in an old beat-up pickup truck. He would purchase all of the leftover food from the Navy and use it to feed the pigs on his farm.


Hence the name, pigman!


This guy could’ve been the twin brother of Yoda from Star Wars! WOW! Brother's.


After dumping the leftovers into the truck, guess who had to rinse those filthy, smelly barrels out? Yep, me!


But being that this was such a shit detail, the powers that be gave us guys back there
a lot of leeway. A lot!


No one ever really fucked with us, because they figured we were suffering enough just being back there. Little did they know that this was the best job to have during their mess tour.


Sure, you stunk at the end of the shift, but no one was ever looking over your shoulder hawking you, and ordering you around.
It was our own little hell-hole.


I guess you could then say that it was a hell, within a hell! Pretty good huh?


We just got away with so much shit, that it was like being on the M*A*S*H compound with Hawkeye and Trapper John. The only things missing were the tents and the alcohol
dripping from the still.


We had radios blasting, lounge chairs, and ice cold drinks. (Unfortunately, they were non-alcoholic) And remember, we had the pigman!


Well, this particular day was just one of those down right amazingly fun days!
Everyone was in a good mood.


I remember that it felt as though we weren’t even in the Navy. All of us were out in the back. The pigman was there, and the girls were hangin’ out on the lounge chairs showin’ some skin.


Slop was flyin’ from the barrels, and I was running around the parking lot playing air guitar with a broom to an AC/DC song,
ala Angus young.



The radio was blaring out…


For Those About To Rock, We Salute You!


I only wish I had a still photo
of the entire scene. Awesome!!


There wasn’t one military thing happening. Even the pigman was rockin' out to the tunes. They could’ve used the snapshot as a what not to do while at boot camp photo. And shown it to all the new recruits. We were calmly out of control.


Now, after all the barrels had been rinsed, the pigman's belly was full, and the air guitar had been put back in its case, it was time
to head back to the barracks.


By now, it was about 8:00pm and the sun had given way to the darkness.


I made it back to the barracks, immediately got undressed, and headed for the showers. I was pretty beat. I smelled horrible and I just wanted to shower and hit the bunk to get some sleep. The mornings come way too fast around here.


But, all of the sudden, about halfway through my shower, I heard this loud commotion coming from the main barracks area.


Then, one of the guys came running into the showers yellin’...


Hey Ozzy, you’d better get your ass out here now! The on-duty night commander
wants to see everyone, NOW!
(This dick wasn't our assigned commander. Both our Petty Officer's were really cool guys! He was just on-duty that night)




I just mumbled to myself,
Fuck, what does this asshole want?


So, without having any time to rinse the soap off of my body, I jumped outta the shower. And proceeded to swish my way towards
the main barracks room.


Now, just picture this. Everyone was lined up and standing in front of their bunks at attention on both sides of the room.


The night commander stood before them like a rooster who had just walked into the fuckin' hen house. Pissed off at the world, and ready to fuck anything or anybody that got in his way.


And, who do you think that might have been?


WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT NOISE?


Squish flip…squish flop…
Squish flip…squish flop...
Uuuh, that would be me commander.
I was in the shower and.…......


He didn’t look too pleased, as he turned and saw me, wearing my flip-flops,
and a soaking wet towel.


He cut me off in mid response by barking out...


WELL GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE, AND FALL INTO PLACE! JESUS FUCKIN’ CHRIST!
AND STOP DRIPPING!


C’mon dude, stop dripping? Really?


This asshole made me come runnin’ outta the friggin’ shower in the first place, to yell at us over something ridiculous I’m sure. Then to say stop dripping? Stop dripping my ass,
you fuckin’ jerkoff!


(((You notice that you don’t see any quotation marks. I may be dumb, but I’m not stupid. I sometimes know when to wisecrack aloud, and when to just shut up, and mumble it to myself. This was one of those, to myself times. But it would be short lived. As my asshole gene would once again rear its ugly head
in just a few moments)))


I finally flip flopped my way to my proper position in line leaving behind
a looooooong soapy wet trail.

Tommy Mondello lined up boot camp 1981 Orlando, FLA
See me all the way up there under the arrow?
You can't miss that profile! That's my regular spot in front of my bunk.
Well the bathrooms were all the way at the opposite end of the room...
to my left.
It was a very very slippery walk indeed!

And then, this uptight a-hole began screaming at us over something that had happened earlier in the day, on the grinder.


Tommy Mondello boot camp grinder marching area
Here's an aerial view of some of the Orlando complex.
That big white cement area is the grinder. Those 4 black dashes you see
are full company's marching around. So now you have an idea of just how
massive this thing was. Marching for fucking hours... LoL...
Your left... your right... your left...


The grinder was nothing more than a gigantic open area, covered with cement. All the companies would go there to march around in fuckin' circles all day. (The Navy way!)


So, as he was verbally assaulting us, I began to get a little fidgety. I was dripping all over the floor, and the soapsuds began foaming up in places I dare not speak of.


It felt as though I had crapped my pants for goodness sake. You ever have that feeling? Warm, wet, squishy, and dripping down your leg. Ewww!


I just couldn’t take it anymore. I shoveled shit all day for the pigman. I’ll be damned if I was gonna stand here and listen to this ass-wipe babble on endlessly, while the feeling of soap in my ass was making me gag 'n vomit.


I had to do something, anything. And NOW!


Uuuhh……… Excuse me, commander.
Excuse me.


Suddenly the screaming had halted. The a-hole stood there with a look of pure disbelief
and disgust on his face.


He just couldn’t believe that someone had actually interrupted his tirade.
I calmly continued.


I know that what you’re sayin’ is really important to, to, well to someone. But, I got soap suds up my ass that’s makin’ me wanna vomit. I need to go rinse this shit off before I hurl dude.”


And, as I was saying this, I stepped forward out of line. Turned my rear end towards him. Bent over, while flipping the towel up, revealing my soapy asshole to that babbling idiot. While both hands spread and pulled my cheeks apart. Again... ewww!


I remained in this position long enough to have the entire company just lose it, and begin laughing their heads off.


At this point, I stood back up, turned, and faced front. Awaiting my imminent destruction.


Just picture the scene in your mind. Ninety guys, cracking up with laughter. A red-faced wannabe George S. Patton looking on... and me.


Out of line, out of time,
and waiting for the bells to chime!


Oh, and those bells began to toll 'n chime alright.


ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND RECRUIT?


Uuuuuuuhhhhh, no, Sir???


And to the amazement of everyone there, this a-hole just started to shake his head, and began to smile. He had succumbed to the Mondello charm.


Or, possibly, was just so bewildered by the sheer greatness of what he had just witnessed that he simply felt human for a second.


I’ll put money down right now that something like this has never happened to him ever before, or after, our meeting!


JESUS FUCKING CHRIST RECRUIT! GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY SITE, YOU RETARD! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE! AND STOP DRIPPING
ON MY FUCKING FLOOR!!!


Yes sir. I’m outta here man!


And off I flip-flopped my way back into the showers. I think I made a new friend!
What'ta ya think?


He was so screwed up at this point, that he forgot what the hell it was
that he was yelling at us for.


He just kept shaking his head back and forth. Threw his hands up in disgust,
and headed for the door.


He quietly whimpered...


You guys have a good night!


And, about forty percent of the squad answered back with a half-hearted "Yes sir!" Everyone else just stood there, laughing.
It was beautiful dude.


I was the talk of the town for the next couple days. Even one of our regular company commander's, who had heard of the incident through the grapevine,
pulled me aside and said...


"You keep that shit up Mondello, and they just might make you a fuckin’ officer
you crazy bastard!





I answered back with the confidence of an Errol Flynn, who had just split the arrow in half.




Fuckin’ A, commander!…………… Fuckin’ A!

Tommy Mondello boot camp company commander's
Here are my two regular company commander's.
Both of them were really great guys!
Petty Officer "L" on the left was the head honcho
and pretty much remained out of the mainstream madness.
It was Petty Officer "H" on the right
who was the one to kick our asses.
But he was a really awesome dude!
They both gave us a lot of slack.
It was P.O. "H" who was the one to say that "officer" comment.
LoL... too funny!