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This is the second in God-only-knows-how-many posts that explain why, when I compare my life to some others, I feel like I come up on the very short end of the stick. Not a whining post, but in the words of Jack Webb (Joe Friday on "Dragnet",) "Just the facts, ma'am."

To get caught up on the story, go here.

I joined the Air Force. The first time, I had a guaranteed job as an air traffic controller. It was in the early '80s, right after Ronald Reagan had fired all the air traffic controllers for going on strike. It was sweet. I was looking forward to making a TON of bucks and having a good life ahead of me.

But what do they say? The best laid plans of mice and men? There is a process (or at least there was when I joined) where the officers at the inprocessing station take all the prospective recruits into a room and warn them that if they have lied or failed to mention anything that might disallow them from serving in the military, this was their last chance to make it right. They subtly threaten you with fines and jail and having your nuts crushed and bamboo shoots shoved under your fingernails. This was the FINAL step before you are lined up and sworn in.

Ah, but your humble correspondent is a total fuck up. Remember? Let me get into the wayback machine and fill you in a bit.

I got kicked out of public high school in my 11th grade year. I was a hellion in high school. I skipped for weeks at a time, I did drugs, got in physical altercations with teachers ... I'm totally surprised they put up with me for two and a half years. But they soon rectified that mistake. When I went in to get my class schedule for the second half of my junior year, the counselor and the principal pulled me in to the office and told me that I was wasting their time and they were wasting mine and so my presence would no longer be required at the high school.

I went home and told my parents I had been kicked out of school and I was done. I didn't need it. I could get bye ... make it on my own. I was thinking "Hey! I can sell pot. I can bust up a $60 ounce into 28 grams. At $5 per gram, that's $140 ... more than double my investment!." Of course I didn't think about how I would live off the $20 profit I would enjoy after I bought two ounces. I mean fuck! If I had weed, I would definitely have food, right? Riiiiight!

Well, mom and dad had a different plan. They planned on me to finish school and it didn't make a fuck what I thought. Before I knew it, I was enrolled in a private Christian school. Part of the deal was that I would have to go to church every time the doors were open. Sunday morning, night and Wednesday night. I also had to wear a shirt and tie and get my very long hair cut almost military-style. Oh and smoking? Drinking? Fuggetaboutit! In fact, I got licks (thats corporal punishment to you edukated folks ... you know. A spanking ... with a paddle!) from the principal because a fellow student's parents saw me smoking and turned me in. It was fucked up, but I submitted to my fate and went along gracefully.

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BWAHAHAHAHAHA! *snort* Damn, I almost pulled it off! Sorry, just couldn't keep a straight face,

That's about enough for tonight though, so until next time...

::TO BE CONTINUED::