Seriously, f*ck Pauly Shore
The other day I took the plunge (one might say) and joined my college's ROTC. So, for the next few years, I'll wake up at 5 every morning for PT, go to military classes and all that good stuff before I emerge as a soldier of the free world/towel-head killer in 2 years. I'm still a cadet, so if guys at boot camp are maggots I'm whatever is more lowly and pathetic than that: you can call me Cadet Zeldasbiggestfan.
I debated this for a long time, and my reasons for joining are highly personal (<3). I'm not a killing machine and I'm not doing it for the money. Guess I don't see anywhere else for me to go, and working at fast food jobs really showed me how depressing disposable income is. I went and spoke with a few branches to be sure I got the best deal. The navy recruiting office it was... interesting, to say the least. They had comfy chairs, pictures of sailors all around the world grinning with hot women, a mini fridge, and I swear to god, the place smelled like cinnamon. Cinnamon. Either someone lit some incense or a guy at too many cinnabons. The air force looks far too easy. The Marines was my first choice but we don't have their rotc and I'm not enlisting.
I was originally gonna go for special forces, counter terrorism and training insurgents sounded interesting. But the more people I spoke with, it seems like most of em spent time pulling teeth and vaccinating iraqi kids. So, I think I'll do rangers.
The funny thing is to go jogging in my gear, and be laughed at and heckled by frat boys in their trendy cars. I enjoy the irony of being labeled a conformist when it's they who are the cookie-cutter college stereotype, who've become what everyone else wants them to be. And when I come back home, whenever that will be, they'll be the ones waiting on me at Taco Bell.
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