<$BlogRSDUrl$>

WHERE ALL RANK IS LOST

Monday, April 05, 2004

Nazis and Faggots...
Something terrible has happened. Our mascot...the face of SSP has been soiled. Our champion, our provider...the strong shoulders that shrug off every day's hardship; he has been fouled. My attentive listeners, PAY HEED! A villain is among us! A boy without morals or thought...void of basic decency and respect! This rogue has shown his true face amongst us. He has barely rinsed clean his clothing of the scent of MCT, and yet he wrongs the visage of our resident "ringleader" Lance Corporal. Weant. Say his name with a hint of distaste. Spit his name out on the ground as you form the word. Most importantly, never give him an inch...or he will take your underwear and put them on your face. Here's the story...
El Jefe is something of a "connection". What I mean by this, is that if you need something he can get it for you, and if he can't sure as hell he can find someone that can. Think of the barracks as a kind of prison, and El Jefe as the guy that has been in for the last 3 wardens and isn't scared of shit...except for the Nazis and Faggots. Everyone is scared of them. This guy will help you when it counts. He's like an angel that doesn't like to shave, and drinks as much as possible every chance that he gets. In a true stroke of benevolence, befitting his position, El Jefe offered a hand to the new spade around the cellblock. This fresh fish showed up straight out of the wrapper, and expected to get the same treatment as the lifers. He asked El Jefe for a whopper right out of the gates: he wanted The Boss to use his connections to score some "cider" from the kitchen. Now, El Jefe ain't no slouch, but that kind of score is tough to come by. "No Problem", said The Boss, right before taking a nap. Never sleep when a new jack bitch is on your ticket. NEVER. This belt-loop hoe came up to cell block C where The Boss takes his afternoon nap, askin' for his shit. Cool as ever The Boss is like, "Chill fish. I'll get yo Cider". This motherfucker walks out of there like a punk dog, and goes and waits a bit. Then like 5 minutes later he's back up at the C block, only this time he's quiet as hell. He sneaks his ass up on The Boss and stands there real quiet like. Then, quicker than a jackrabbit he stabs The Boss in the back with a fucking 10 penny nail. The Boss is coughin' up blood thick as molasses, and the new hoe sneaks away before the guards show up. Now ain't that a bitch!
I'm really not sure what happened there, but the moral remains the same. Don't trust this faggot, or he'll stick you in the back while you're sleeping. You know what I mean. Queer.

Thursday, April 01, 2004

NUGGETS!
After a period of internment, followed by a necessary hiatus, the Sanchez Report is up and rolling. This good news should warm your heart, and I expect bring cheer to an otherwise boring work day. Without further ado, I bring you a new stroy...one that should strike fear into your hearts. Among us walks a man, that is half a man...a man that is in fact...a NUGGET!
Let there be no confusion over the true origin of this "nugget". He comes from another world...a world unlike our own. On his planet his body's awkwardness is not only accepted, but is a useful tool in an otherwise harsh landscape. His torso can best be described as "stubby" and helps keep his center of gravity low to keep him from toppling over. His arms and legs are simple, and do not draw excessive attention. It is however at the end of the arms that the true deformity can be found. Ending in a sort of "half-finger" the Nugget bears malformed hands; his fingers resembling Vienna Sausages, and nails only half the size of a real man. Do not be fooled! He may try to become one of you by wowing you with a display of skill. His low center of gravity enables him to excel in various athletic activities ranging from soccer to...soccer. If you should happen to be approached by a nugget, the best defense is simply to unmask them before the public. Upon discovery of their true identity, shout "NUGGET!" and grab their stubby arms and hold them in the air. Your scream will attract attention and when others see the shortened digits of the offending nugget waving in the air they are sure to come to your aid in removing the offending nugget from the area. When the nugget has been removed from your area REJOICE, for you are cleansed of its evil purposes. My friends, the nugget is sacrilege...let there be no mercy.

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Top