ROCKS IN MY HEAD

Afghanistan.  If someone had told me that I would be living here and lovin' it, I would have said that they have rocks in their head.  I'm now at a quaint little base located near a freeway and with towns surrounding us.  A little history... it is the birthplace of Al Qaida.  Wonderful!  Who thinks that I don't get around???  Did you know that they hate us...I mean really, really hate us!  And, why would they like us?  We killed their leader, the 2nd in command and his family, and his brother's wife and her cat and cousins, uncles, nephews, all in the name of freedom and peace for all.  And we spend millions chasing them around the world and in & out of caves that many times start as holes in the sides of mountains or in the ground that are impossible to see until you almost fall into one.  So I'm thinking...what do they do with that filling from the cave holes???  I have found the answer! They dump them in a gravel pit for us to break up and use as walkways with fist sized rocks that you must balance on, carefully walking slowly as to not dislocate your hip or fall onto your ass.  The contractor youngsters are cute as hell as they skip along with their shredded jeans caked with blood...not really.  I wink as they pass by, careful to use my walking stick and my holstered Ben Gay.  If it's the master plan to send us all home with joint injuries, well guess again...we're made of sturdier stock.  We can take their chronic dehydration and climate at the end of God's earth and the blinding sun and sand that coats your pores and fills your lungs each and every day and lets not forget the pot shots that we endure day in and day out. 

    I actually got a peek at "the Afghanistan".  We are not allowed to wander off base, so I took the opportunity to go look over the wall.  It was pretty neat, first, because I was not suppose to do that and then because it resembles the base in as there's lots of dirt and not much else.  I did see a herd of goats that I was told doubles for missile launchers or suicide bombers.  I'm puzzled?  Why would a goat want to commit suicide?  Ha!  I could give you hundred of reasons starting with the wife nags too much!  I also saw their freeway with a bus that I'm sure was stolen from the Partridge Family.  The sand/fields that surround us, I've heard that after the rainy season it will be a sight to behold.  Fields for miles around will be filled with beautiful red poppies who's fruit will be harvested for the drug trade.  Yippee!  And more money to finance the Taliban.  OK...off politics and my soap box...

    Speaking of rocks and dopes...I am now working on a base with people, (no names please), that don't work well with others, especially women.  Apparently he doesn't mind them to fo-de-do-do, but he has had a time putting me in my place.  I'm sure some of you can relate to his pain.  Last week, I was sick...in no mood to play games.  The games he wants to play: "My skills are better than your skills", or the " I can make you work as late as I want", or the all around good timer game, " Let's not tell anyone the rules."  It's all fun and games until someone gets caught without an escort (me), and someone gets his pee-pee smacked for knowing better (him). And, I feel a little sorry for him...he doesn't know what he is getting into with the TWINS...meowww!

    Back to the Taliban...I was stupid enough to leave the little base coffee shop after dark and without my flashlight - very stupid, especially with the big-ass rocks, when to my wonders I happened upon a group of ANA (Afghan National Army- these are rumored to be the Taliban lovers).  I almost lost my head or my long lost virginity or maybe even my Americanese.  Thankfully, a good ole American Soldier happened upon this happy scene and whisked me out of trouble...I'm very thankful!  Now I have to listen to everyone I meet about not going out after dark and having an escort.  It got around so fast!  I told no one about this little hiccup.  So once again I took matters into my own hands and bought a knife.  Please save your pennies boys and girls and bail me out of Afghan prison, because you know if it happens again...it will not be nice girl playing back!  Then again, I doubt I will go out alone again...sniff