Help! I'm stuck on this ship. I hate being in the Navy. Get me off. I belong on land.
Oh, shut up, you hockey puck. Go puke your brains overboard. Make yourself at home. Drool. I can't be bothered. I got stomach cramps. The elastic on my underwear snapped. Did you just burp in my face? I'm trying to explain something and he barfs up salmon. Get a grip. This is the Navy. We don't shoot, we drown them. My girlfriend is back home lying in bed moaning she needs a foot rub. That's my life. Don't look at me like that, swabbie. In case you didn't know it, I do standup on the side and I'm the entertainment on this hellhole.
My back is killing. Does anybody give a damn? Three more years left on this ship. God, that beef stew I had for lunch is coming up. Get me napkins! Sinatra wouldn't put up with this crap.
RIP Don Rickles.
No comments:
Post a Comment