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 John's Profile |
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82nd airborne all the way. |
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| Age: | 24 years old |
| Sex: | Male |
| Location: | BUENA PARK, California |
| Country: |  United States |
| Height: | 5' 11" |
| BodyType: | Athletic |
| Zodiac: |  Taurus (Apr 20 - May 20) |
| Last Login: | Feb 23, 2008 (663 days back) |
About Me |
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| I love long walks in the battle fields of Iraq, the smell of gun powder in the morning, it just turns me on... ohh yeahh!!
I love how some of the Iraqis show their appreciation by throwing rocks, its so touching.
Its funny because in America sppiting at some one is a great offense, in Iraq it means thank you my brother.
Iraq is a country of which all great nations should learn from, shit now I understand why Bush dosent want to leave.
Today the Iraquis were shooting RPG's at us but thats just how they celebrate their independence and all they are trying to do is make us part of their celebration.
They just adore us.
I look forward to seeing them every day too bad I'm only here for one year, Im sure goint to miss those bugers when I leave AWWWW!! Iraq. Eli came back from iraq and tattoed a teddy bear onto the inside of his wrist above the medic with an IV bag above that an angel but Eli says the teddy bear won't live and i know i don't know but i say "i know" cause Eli's only twenty-four and I've never seen eyes further away from chidhood than his eyes old with a wisdom he know I'd rather not have Eli's mother traces a teddy bear onto the insode of my arm and says, "not all casualties come home in body bags" and i swear I'd spend the rest of my life writing nothing but the word light at the end of this tunnel if I could find the fucking tunnel I'd write nothing but white flags somebody pray for the soldiers somebody pray for what's lost somebody pray for the mailbox that holds the official letters to the mothers. fathers, sisters, and little brothers of Micheal 19... Steven 21...John 33 how ironic that their deaths sound like bible verses the hearse is parked in the halls of the high school recruiting black, brown and poor while anti-war activists outside walter reed army hospital scream 100,000 slain... as an amputee on the third floor breaths forget-me-nots onto the window pain but how can we forget what we never knew our sky is so perfectly blue it's repulsive somebody tell me where god lives cause if god is truth god doesn't live here our lies have seared the sun too hot to live by there are ghosts of kids who are still alive touting M16s with trembling hands while we dream ourselves stars on Survivor another missle sets fire to the face in the locket of a mother who's son needed money for college and she swears she can feel his photograph burn how many wars will it take us to learn that only the dead return the rest remain forever caught between worlds of shrapnel shatters body of three year old girl to... welcome to McDonalds can i take your order? the mortar of sanity crumbling stumbling back home to a home that will never be home again Eli doesn't know if he can ever write a poem again one third of the homeless men in this country are veterans and we have the nerve to Support Our Troops with pretty yellow ribbons while giving nothing but dirty looks to their outstretched hands tell me what land of the free sets free its eighteen-year-old kids into greedy war zones hones them like missles then returns their bones in the middle of the night so no one can see each death swept beneath the carpet and hidden like dirt each life a promise we never kept Jeff Lucey came from Iraq and hung himself in his parents basement with a garden hose the night before he died he spent forty-five minutes on his fathers lap rocking like a baby rocking like daddy, save me and don't think for a minute he too isn't collateral damage in the mansions of washington they are watching them burn and boarding the water no senator's sons are being sent to slaughter no president's daughters are licking ashes from their lips or dreaming up ropes to wrap around their necks in case they ever make it home alive our eyes are closed america there are souls in the boots of the soldiers america fuck your yellow ribbon you wanna support our troops bring them home and hold them tight when they get here --"Andrea Gibson" |
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My Interests |
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| Painting, fire arms, women
Jumping out of C130's (aircraft) |
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I'd like to meet:Everybody and their momma's |
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Music:The killers, Nirvana, Artic Monkeys, Day of discontent, Radio Head, The Ramones, Distillers, Fugazi, Minor threat, Iggy pop, Jimi Hendrix,Casualties, Bush, Cold Play, panic at the disco, Dashboard Confessions, David Bowie, Deftones Franz Ferdinad, Hot HOt heat, Jet,Jack Johnson, Lady Bouncer, Pink Floyd, Led zeppelin, The Doors, The postal Service, Stone Temple pilots, Weezer, The Strokes, Sublime, The Vines, A lot more. |
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Movies:Horror and comedy. |
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Television:Comedy central.. dont have time for TV really. |
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Books:"La vida por un mundo mejor, CHE GUEVARA" "Sidartha" "Iraq" "Special Forces"..Tom Clancy. |
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Heroes:Delta Forces Special Forces Rangers Combat Control Para Rescue Navy Seals Marine Recon 101st and 82nd from 1942-1945... 507TH PIR. Che Guevara William Wallace General Paton Vietnam vets WW1 and 2 vets. Simon Bolivar |
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My Background and Lifestyle |
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| MaritalStatus: | Single |
| SexualOrientation: | Straight |
| Hometown: | Anaheim |
| Smoker: | No |
| Drinker: | Yes |
| Children: | Undecided |
| Education: | In college |
| Occupation: | Military |
My Pictures |
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My Friends |
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Erick B Good, Papi Chulo, Rozzy, Erika, hH kReW....FuCk iT o WaT (inside joke), Kinghillery, Brooklyn, SHERIGIRL ~ YOUNGEST E-8 AROUND ~, nikki, Savannah, ☮PrInCe WiZzY™ ♥s His PrInCeSs 11.3.07☮, Tactical Snider, J-Star™ Im Backkkk (Drz Diss Comin Soon), HD, Salsero, BOOTSIE™, eleonora, ra, ^3R!l{@^, Lance
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Tags |
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John's profile has been tagged with the following keywords. Click a tag to search for profiles with the same tags. walter reed army hospital, walter reed army, buena park california, white flags, bugers, throwing rocks, word light, long walks, iraquis, gun powder, straight male, body bags, tattoed, yeahh, hearse, bible verses, amputee, buena park, nots, breaths |
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