Reply #39: It's still better than Fayettenam, NC [View All]

[jmowreader]

Yes, that's right, I live in Fayette-FUCKING-Nam, North Carolina.

Oh, they get pissed off when you say that.

The fuckin' fundies go on and on about how this isn't Fayettenam anymore--a name the town got back in the 1960s because it was essentially a war zone, and because the snake-eaters and the jumping junkies* in division bounced back and forth between Fayettenam and Vietnam. Oh no! We tore down Rick's Lounge, which was quite possibly the most famous titty bar in the world. We tore down the Seven Dwarves and the Korean Bar--which, admittedly, needed to be torn down for fire safety if nothing else.

And then we turn around and build a huge Army museum right on the most prime piece of real estate in the whole fucking town.

Mister, the day my numbers come in I'm flying to Charlotte, buying a green Sprinter, painting Sweet & Low Upholstery on the side of it, driving back to Fayettenam, loading our cats and the rest of our shit in the back, topping off the fuel tank and heading straight for Seattle. My wife will drive the hybrid Accord she'll be purchasing while I'm dealing with Freightliner of Charlotte.

* When the Army realized it had a Drug Problem, they piss tested a sample of every unit in the service. Turns out the most stoned division was the 82nd Airborne and the most stoned unit in the whole army was the 82nd's rigger shed--where they pack the division's parachutes. People were coming to work fucked up and packing personnel chutes--which may explain why so many paratroopers were attempting to land at 120mph. That's when the army decided to solve this little problem by taking all of the riggers out at random intervals and telling them to jump a parachute they packed--without opening it and repacking it first. They still do this.