All right, listen up all you dope smoking hippie pukes.  It's time once again for me to write one of my patented "favorite on the site" articles, bringing the total to somewhere in the 900 range, to let you cave dwelling sissies know exactly what's going on in the world, since we all know none of you would ever stick your heads outside since the sun would probably shine through those thick glasses of yours and set your eyes on fire.  Today's topic:  queers.

It wasn't all that long ago that queers were rejects of society.  This is what we military men call "the good old days."  The whole reason they were called "queer" is because they're freaks of nature, just slightly better than those stinkin' pinko commie bastards over in Gookaslavia or whatever that place is called.  There was this one time I was over there and a commie gook snuck up behind me and I screamed until I realized that at least it wasn't a queer sneaking up behind.  Then I gutted him using the jagged edge of a can of clam chowder I had just opened.

Anyway, there were always queers.  You could usually tell them because they had names like Cecil or Rodney or Harry Truman.  That fucking pussy.  We could have turned Korea into an amusement park if it hadn't been for that nancy boy.  "Oh no, we can't just wantonly kill commies for fun, that's immoral!"  Fucking pansy.  So as I was saying, we used to kick the crap out of queers.  You know, they'd look at you wrong, you'd slug thirteen times in the gut and knee them in the balls just for good measure.  One time this guy looked at me wrong so I stabbed both his eyes with a tuning fork.  He never looked at me--or anything else--again.  But queers kept to themselves.  They tried to hide their bizarre and unnatural tendencies so that real men like me wouldn't run them over with a jeep that he just happened to accidentally drive off base with and load up with dynamite before running into the enemy's base, or possibly a K-Mart, the memory's a little foggy these days.

But now they're everywhere.  Shit, those goofy bastards even accept that they're called queers now!  I can't even turn on the TV with my mid-afternoon pre-snack appetizer of Totino's Pizza Rolls without seeing some damn queer or another on the tube.  And speaking of Pizza Rolls, where the hell's that Dave with my grub?  I'm so hungry I could eat an ox.  One time in 'Nam we were low on rations so we actually ate what we thought was on ox but it actually turned out later was a Private named Willie or Wally or some damn thing who had accidentally been shot by the Sergeant in command that all the women loved.  Why the hell are queers on TV?  Used to be if there was one, it was to make fun of them, which is the way things are supposed to be.  Look it up in the damned Bible.  Reminds me of when I asked the field pastor why he never actually fought and he started yammerin' about being a man of the cloth so I took his Bible and made him a man of a coffin.  Fucking commie.  Fight or get lost, pinko!

Every show's got to have at least one queer in the cast.  I mean, come on now, it was bad enough that we had to let the coloreds and gooks on there, but now this?!  I'm going to write a show that has no queers on it but instead stars a tough veteran who solves crimes and unravels capers and finds commies and pierces their brain with a jagged chicken bone.  Heh heh, that was fun when I did that.  What was that little jerk's name?  Freddie or Gary or some fruity shit like that I think.

And now they want into the military.  The fucking military!  The army's for men, freakshows, no queers allowed.  I can only imagine what would happen if I was on the front lines with some queer, you know, machine gunning the shit out of some rice eating commie bastard when suddenly he dropped to the ground worrying because he broke a nail or I broke his collar bone.  I ain't got time for this shit, do you get it?  Or don't you?  Probably not, since you're all too busy playing "Pokeyman's Blazing Pansy Frontier" or whatever you dope smokers play when you're busy avoiding the opposite sex.  One time I had some "opposite sex" with some little oriental bitch in Saigon.  I flipped her upside down and went to town.  Then I beat her senseless with my boot.  You should have heard her screaming.  It sounded like a damn wind chime, all "wing ting bling ming!"  Heh heh, still makes me chuckle.

But really now, if you're queer, steer clear of the army for Christ's sake!  That's why we have the fucking Navy!  All you little queers can go underneath and swab out each other's poop decks til the cows come home.  It's not like the Navy ever does anything.  There was this time we were going to some damn jungle in Siberia or some shit to waste some commies and the Navy said "want a ride?  Cause we'll ride you!"  I kicked the shit out of so many sailors that day you'd swear there was dysentery on the ship!  No, just corpses.

In short, when you were in the military in my day, you either kept quiet about being a queer, or you kicked the living hell out of 'em on the rare occasions when you weren't out running over commie gook civilians with your tanks and stabbing up the survivors with your bayonets.  There was these two queers in my outfit that I found asleep together one night during one of my weekly "Wake Everyone Up with a Live Boa Constrictor" inspections.  Those were always a hoot, let me tell you.  The look of sheer terror in those men's eyes is the stuff of legend.  But there's these two men sleeping in the bed together.  I can't remember all the details because I blacked out through most of it, but I do remember at one point a bear trap being in my hand, and the next day we had some burying to do.

I remember one time we met up with another platoon and we were discussing the finer ways of blowing away commies.  I was explaining that my favorite way was to use a flame thrower so that you could see them shriek in terror as their skin melted away.  Heh heh, that is a good one.  This one guy, I think his name was Clancy or Chauncey or some shit, said "eeew!"  I gave that little queer ass sissy a 21 gun salute before he was even dead.  Little shit.

And what in Sam Hill is this queer marriage shit?  Queers can't get married, they're queer.  Only a man and woman can get married.  Like this slanteye over in one of them damn chink countries was asking me to marry her.  I told her that she was lucky I paid her fee instead of goring her with a steam pipe like I do the other whores.  But these queers want to gore each other with something else.  It's revolting and it must be stopped.  At the very least, if they could stop mentioning it on the news every ten seconds while I'm trying to eat my chorizo and eggs.  Where the fuck is Dave?

Well, I think by now even you thick headed scrawny dope smokers should get the point.  We need to get rid of these queers.  Since I know that you're all too fat from globbering down your salty flab snacks while playing Playbox, it's up to yours truly to enact some vigilante work.  Kind of like that time there was some commie bastard stealing car radios in the neighborhood, so a certain unnamed figure snuck out one night, caught him in the act, and used his decades of military training and experience to mangle him using only a pair of tweezers and a paper clip.  Luckily no one saw me, so it just went under the rug, much like the tiny particles of that little punk queer went under my rug when I was done with him.  So, to begin, I figure I'll wipe out the nest where they all come from:

- Words