Top Boob Inspector

During the Thatcher regime in Britain we enjoyed having a ton of horny Yank soldiers over, it almost reminded me of the war when I was selling an hour of my three sisters time for American nylons and chocolate, that was during my fat cross dressing phase that I don't want to talk about .
Retirement had bored me plus my sisters had seriously gone doon hill in the last 40 years so I signed up for the Killamory jet fighter school at the local US military base.

We all had to be given nicknames or call signs, I had a flatulence problem at the time so I was named 'Loosecannon' the navigator how would fly with me was named 'Duck.' One day we got a top flight instructor call signed Charlie. I was expecting some bloke to come walking in and what do you know I was right, he did have lovely long blonde hair though. Charlie went through a dog fight scenario and then asked what I would do, I frowned as if I was giving it some thought but really it was me hemorrhoids acting up and I answered "Kick his pan in" Charlie said that was too aggressive, too intense but I knew he liked me, in a strictly military way of course.

While flying with Duck on a training flight we spotted a couple of Zebulon fighter saucers, now those damned dirty aliens know better than to mess with Earth after the last time (The battle of Roswell 1947) but they were taking the piss. My instruments told me they had their space rays locked on and I couldn't avoid them so I shouted, "duck" and he said "what?" so I shouted "duck, duck!" but it was too late for Duck to duck and he got zapped, yep his goose was cooked alright.

The plane went out of control, I'm not violent by nature but I punched us out of the cock-pit, ever been punched in the cock-pit? its fucking sore, why do they make men's bikes with a high cross bar you can land on? designed by men-haters, er I mean feminists no doubt.

We landed in the freezing sea off the Scottish coast, the water would kill a Sassenach or Yank in 15 minutes but not me, being an old seman I tasted the water and I could tell what current I was in, I'd be close to land in about 6 hours, yay! oh they don't bother looking for us as their budget for the 'Killamory expendables' was quite limited. I held onto dear dead Duck and waited to drift home and hoped for his sake we'd get picked up before I got hungry.

Getting back to the base Charlie consoled me about losing Duck, no really the morgue lost him. I wanted to teach the Zebulons a lesson so after a BJ, shower, shite and shave I went looking for another plane. Stabber was recovering after a knife fight so I took his plane along with his navigator Emo. After hearing about how no one understands him and that he just doesn't like navigating he cares about it oh and don't forget the crying we took off in search of some revenge.

We jetted through the air and I shouted, "I feel the need, the need for some crack" but all Emo had were a few damp acid tabs so I took them.

On my CB radio I could hear there was a dogfight in progress, the Zebulons had cum out of the sun and shot doon Zipper, Ice-cream man was holding his own, I said, "we lose no more men today" and revved the plane up to 55 mph, I meant business.

Ice-cream man was panicking, "bogeys all over me" he shouted, I spoke up, "use yer sleeve like everyone else ya cunt" and set to work attacking the Zebulons. I shot doon two and the other three bugged out.

When we returned to base Ice-cream man came over to me and said "you! you can wipe my nose anyday" and placed a cap on my head that said Top Gun on it, I was able to exchange it for one that said "boob inspector."

Charlie got reassigned which is just as well I've had enough unhealthy relationships in my time, with my new hat I got all the pussy I wanted and weemen too.

I wrote a song about Charlie called, "Take my breath away" it was about how I was allergic to his aftershave and couldn't breathe.

I sold my story to some Yank with more money than sense, no idea why he wanted it of course I left out how we carpet bombed the Zebulon homeworld to stop their attacks, its hard to attack when you are neck high in carpets and the Zebulons aren't very tall.

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Rum, Sodomy And The Lash

It was thought that Winston Churchill said that British naval tradition consisted of Rum, sodomy and the lash. I'd say that would be true of most navys. Spunk doesn't show up so much on yer liberty whites, those Yanks think of everything.

The Navy are all queer and that's in the bible, I do however like the commercials that make the armed forces look exciting. Fast paced action shots of people jumping out of boats or shouting commands. The film "Top Gun" was a very expensive ad for US navy pilots, short arse cunts can get the tall chicks and save us from the Migs while being "dangerous."

"My rock beats yer Scissors Ice-man, I didn't get my Rock Paper Scissors badge for nothing."

In the UK there were ads with office type yuppie people sitting in a bar and they ask one guy "how was yer week" the man gazes off to flash backs of exciting army life, then a hot woman enters the bar and all the yuppies stare as she goes over to the guy and then you see her in the flash backs dressed in army gear giving commands. I think what the ad was trying to say was, "yer life is boring come and let us tell you what to do and hot military chicks (we called them groundsheets) will want yer cock."

Then there was the ads that has soldiers in a situation like some raghead getting angry with you in some dirty camel fucker lingo so what do you do next? me I'd open fire and teach them to respect the Empire but no, the answer was for the officer to remove his sun glasses to make eye contact as a sign of respect, fuck away off. British army you stone age cunts bow doon.

For fucks sake, can you Palestinians no take a wee joke?

Yer a special forces soldier observing a target, you have rations for 8 days, its now day 13 what do you do? me I'd say, "fuck this for a game of soldiers and go home." Its to see if you are dumb enough to stay in position and starve to death or tramp around like Les Strouds looking for food and giving away yer position and not watch the target.

The Yanks have their "Army of one" slogan, me I'd prefer some backup. I don't think one person can be an army, look it up, " a large organized body of armed personnel trained for war." I'll admit I'm not into book learnin much, I hated school and resented being made to attend in fact I also hated (and still do) being told what to do so idiot me did join the army for numerous years until they tired of me but even I'm not going to fall for that army of one crap, I maybe dumb but I'm not Irish.

After a battle I'd go around the battlefield as the weemen knifed the enemy wounded, you'd get some good stuff off those bodies, thats when I became an arms dealer on the market of colour as we call it.

The reason I took the King's shilling was because of the ad of the day, the English army recruiters would come to yer town and make it all sound exciting and romantic, " Fight for the King and oppress the heathen wog just like God wants you too." Well I was hooked, I joined the 101st Kings own cannon fodder regiment, we wore red coats so the enemy could see us better, that was the polite thing to do.

I was the original inventor of "Duck and cover" and so I moved on to the "Royal suicide fusiliers." Ah happy days, I developed a lot of the field craft the army use today for sniping as I hid in the grass and crawled bravely to safety.

Senator John Kerry, George Washington look 'a' like, liberal anti-war traitor and presidential failure said it best and this should be a commercial "If you don't do well in school and you don't study, you end up in Iraq."

He should also add if yer dumb enough to think the army will put you through college we want to give you a weapon and train you to kill .

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