Armbone's Guide to Life, Parenting, and Living as a Functioning Dengenerate

The other day I got my 2 year old, Armbone Jr aka AJ, standing in the bathroom sink so I can wash his feet. I got my left arm around his waist, the water running, and I’m washing his feet with the right. What I didn’t realize is that the wife has one of them plug-in air-fresheners in the outlet just to the left of the sink. (It’s one of those Yankee Candle shits that you turn on and it heats up the wax in the cup at the top, and the smell good gets released) So there I am being a good dad and cleaning the fuck-ton of sand from between his toes….. By the way, how these kids get so much fucking sand in their shoes is beyond me. It’s like the daycare ladies dip the kid’s feet in honey and let them run wild in the damn sandbox. Then they throw the socks back on, just to shove it up the parent’s asses. Just a little sweet revenge for having to wipe our kid’s snotty noses, change their shitty diapers, and put up with their little toddler attitudes. I can imagine them sitting home, sipping a

So I spent a total of 13 hours on the road yesterday. Sucked me fucking ass! We were released from school around 5:30am, after having to be up at 4:00am for a 4:30 barracks inspection. Not gonna lie, it was a rough way to start a day for me. Between having a 10 hour drive ahead me and going out the night before, I'd say my risk assessment should've been a little on the high side. But you know, especially after two weeks of bullshit, nothing was gonna stop me from getting home to my wife and baby boy. The last night there one of my classmates and I went out to a place called Quaker Steak & Lube. Place was fucking awesome! $11.99 all you can eat boneless wings and $5.00 32oz drafts. So in the words of the great Tom Brady, we were getting a little "lubed up". (Quick distraction, I'm writing this from my son's swim lesson, and the lifeguard across from me looks like a 30 year old Eugene Levy. For those who don't know, he was the bad guy in Splash and als

I'd like to give you a quick story about a young soldier, that will give you an idea of what the fuck we're dealing with in the modern day army. A couple years ago, I was over in Kuwait on my second deployment. It was a pretty tit deployment, no danger, just pretty much everyday work as if you were in the usa. Except it gets really hot and you can never leave the base. While on base, soldiers move around in humvees and other military vehicles, but they also drive vans, pickup trucks, and John Deere Gators. Well one day, one of our young specialists backed a 15 passenger van into a Gator. For those who don't know what a Gator is, it's pretty much a beefed up 4x4 golf cart. Anyway, she backs the van into the Gator. Later on that day I had to go see this young soldier to get an accident report from her. This is pretty much exactly how the conversation went. "Spc. I need you to tell me exactly what happened?" Armbone. "I already told SFC Ru Paul." Sp

As I sit here in my room, down in the seventh circle of hell, I find myself thinking, it's been a long time since I've shared some knowledge with all my loyal Armboners. So I figured what better time then now. I'm currently in Ft. Eustis Virginia at school, trying to better myself in the ways of JOMS. For those who aren't familiar with JOMS, I'll quickly explain. JOMS is an acronym made up by myself and partner in crime LD. As you know, everything in the Army gets an acronym because apparently us soldiers are just too fucking lazy to actually sound out entire English words. Anyway, anytime our unit needs anything large or heavy moved, they automatically call Armbone and LD. The two J erk- O ffs to M ove the S hit. JOMS= Jerk-Off Move Shit. Picking up what I'm putting down? Good, back to the reason I'm here. I'm being trained to be a transportation manager, so I can be the guy in charge of organizing the movement of anything that needs to be moved from on

Last week I took part in an 8 hour course on Hazardous Materials and the proper safety procedures in the workplace. The class was taught by this kind hearted, middle-aged African American fella, we’ll just call Scranford. Nicest guy you’ll ever meet, but to give you a good idea of what we’re dealing with here, this man recently told me that I can look up “Who’s on First” by Alfred and Costello on Goggles. When I tried to correct him, and said “Don’t you mean, look up Abbott and Costello on Google?" His response back was, “Yeah, dats what is said, Alfred and Costello on Goggles.” It's obivious that his level of edjumakation is much higher then any of us are accustom to.   He started the class off with an introduction to the different types of hazardous materials we my be dealing with in the workplace. According to Scranford, hazardous materials can enter your system through 2 routes of entry. The first one is inhalation, and the second is indigestion. Yup, indigestion. Amazing!

It's been 4 days now since the wife and kid left to visit family in North Dakota. I'm realizing that being alone, not having a woman around, and not having a child in the house that I'm supposed to make sure is alive at all times, gets really fucking boring and can almost start to make yourself feel a little crazy. I've had to work everyday, so at least I've gotten out the house and hit the gym, so I don't feel like a total piece of shit. I've also visited the parents, gone out to eat with them, went to a my nephews football game (lost to a bunch of cheating, pussy-ass Ledyard kids), and met up for a couple of cocktails with a buddy of mine (in a bar full of douche bags). So I haven't been cooped up the whole time. But when I'm home, in an empty house, with absolutely no responsibilities, some weird shit has happened. The other night I sitting home, catching up on the dvr, and I decide to have a cocktail. I'm a responsible adult, I can have a c