Geese

Geese. I spent three months at a naval station at Newport, Rhode Island. There was a ~3 mile running trail that went around the perimeter of the island, which we ran three times a week. Invariably, at some point on the trail, you’d find a gang of those cocksuckers blocking the path, and they’d just give you that vacant goose stare as you bore down on them. I actually kicked one of the fuckers one time because he wouldn’t move. He looked surprised and mildly offended, then delivered a defiant hiss at my retreating buttocks.

But that was just mildly entertaining. The real downside of having all those geese was that there were little fucking goose-turd land mines all through the grass. Which doesn’t sound so horrifying until a DI orders you and your 20 friends to lie down RIGHT HERE for some pushups, and then there’s a mad scramble to find a shit-free patch of grass.

And as if that wasn’t enough, there was a fucking family of skunks moping around the place too.

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