No, not Charlie Sheen

I have a sheen on my coffee. Have had one for at least the past four days. May have always had it and am just now noticing it. Or it may be new. Can't say, don't care. I drink it without hesitation.

Because.......

On the mighty warship Lynde McCormick, a fine ship that was born the year after me, JP5, which is to a ship what regular unleaded is to your Suburu, leaked into the potable water feeding the mess decks coffee machines. We could see it and we could smell it. It presented us with a dilema.

Do you go, "Eeewwww", and refuse to drink it, turning up your nose like an offended schoolgirl or do you draw a big ol' cup of it anyway because a midwatch or morning without coffee is simply not doable?

Ya drink it. It was never even really a question. Men on ships drink coffee and a little fuel ain't gonna change that. It did, however, present two benefits that we had not considered.

The first benefit is easy to guess. A little JP5 in your coffee is quite effective at keeping you regular. Nothing, and I mean nothing, gets hung up in you when you're all lubed inside like that. The second benefit was even slicker than that. And more unexpected. And cooler.

The navy doesn't buy any squeezably soft toilet paper. We get some pretty industrial grade stuff when you get right down to it. But for the whole time we was drinking the petroleum, that paper glided across our butts like butter on hot teflon. And we were stoked.

Fact-O Meter reading for preceding story: True, mostly.

New story//Begin//Here

The wife went to bed Saurday night at 3:30 AM. Sunday at 9 AM she came walking into the living room where I was, her eyes only half opened and her hair tousseled up. She picked up the phone and dialed.

"Hello, Brother Dave. Call your Mom today. It's her birthday." Then she hung up the phone, looked at me through those half mast eyes and announced, "I'm going back to bed." I thought that was pretty cool.

Last poem for a while. Probably. Maybe. This one came to be in Jacksonville, FL, or as we call it, Jax.

Daisychain

Hair as black as the hangman's heart
Eyes of fire like breaking dawn
If given anything I want
I'd like a place to keep me warm

'Cause I'm feeling like the echoed cries
That drift away into the night
I wanna call in all my chips
Ain't got no chips to call
But I've got
Lies I think I might have told you
Might have told you, they're so far away

Mirror, mirror on the wall
Why you hanging out at all?
Mock me, show me nothing
Except stumble, fumble, fall

Now right across the borderline
Whispers and the hint of danger
Women pressed their lips to mine
I danced beneath their favors

Me, I'm feeling like a fallen angel
Crashed out bare across the table
Just had to race along the edge
But look how far I fell
I fell for
Lies I think I might have told you
Might have told you, they're so far away

Scrawled my name in 10 foot letters
Turned my back and walked away
And if you ain't the perfect stranger
Nothing else that I can say

Maybe you could stop my heart
Easy now, BANG-BANG you're dead
Bullets fly. Blink of an eye
Might find a place to keep me warm

I'm feeling like the color's washed out
Silver screen has faded black
Some would call it destiny
But they would not be right
More likely
Lies I think I might have told you
Might have told you, might have... I can't say

Ed
Jax

Enjoy a cheesy side dish, out
Ramblin' Ed