Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Coast Guard Alaska

Let's face it. Nobody talks more trash about the boys on base than I do (Sara Francis is not male and spared my wrath). It's a Kodiak thing, you wouldn't understand. But I have a confession. I'm addicted to the show they have on the Weather Channel.


No joke. Had I been much less of a nonconformist (double negative?) out of high school and not had a USCG rivalry injected into my blood by growing up here I think the whole rescue swimmer thing would have been a dream job. Maybe in my next life although I'm probably coming back to this world as a 300 pound woman  with one leg for all the bad jokes I've made since forever. Karma's got me in the cross hairs. 

Fat and 40 I can now only dream of being a bad arse jumping out of helicopters like a neoprene member of the A-Team, an A-School pimpdog frogman head-to-toe orange SOB. In fact I'd rather be a swimmer than a crabber if I had to choose between the two although the latter would probably have left me with more cash money, homie. Wait, I take that back. I'd still be broke. Financially and physically. So thanks Al Roker for throwing my wrong career choiceinmyface every Wednesday night. And I can honestly say I've never fantasized about being a weather man.

The only thing I don't like about it is Island Warrior Tom Bolen isn't stationed here to be part of it although you can find him in the extras on The Guardian DVD. 

1 comment:

  1. (1) My sister noted earlier this summer that a fighter pilot could be 4ft tall and he'd still make ladies swoon. A month later, I found myself at an airshow in Denver. Sure enough, a midget fighter pilot waltzed past me en route to his plane. His flight suit was huge on him. And yet, I could have jumped him right there on the tarmac.

    (2) That stupid movie with Ashton Kutcher and Bull Durham about Coasties in Alaska? It almost got me to seriously consider moving to your state.

    (3) Crab dudes can be pretty sexy too. I just think I'm a little too prissy for that set. "But the water's cold," I'd say as I huddled under a cashmere blanket in my rack and sipped imported British tea.

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