/lit/ - Literature

We decided to take our magazines with us after we'd finished cleaning our rifles, Private Susan carried a copy of GQ and she was holding it open for Captain Phyllis explaining how she'd gotten the idea for using lip gloss to make the trigger on her rifle be extra shiny to impress Major Karen on parade. Captain Phyllis, a plump lady with a sympathetic face, was very impressed by all of this and said that whatever we did that Major Karen was sure to be impressed as well. We all giggled and high fived in a group, to instill ourselves with the confidence we were sure we each possessed.

"Hold it," came the voice of Drill Sergeant Park from behind us, "why are you all walking so quickly? Have some consideration for those of us with make-up that runs if we sweat!" Drill Sergeant Park was a Korean lady who always looked her best, second only to Private Doris, who was a Black lady, but the right kind of Black lady; she wore cardigans, for example, and enjoyed going to coffee shops.

"Has everyone made sure to shave their pussies today?" belched Private Pamela Anderson, who was a transsexual, but bless her she was trying. Actually, as I was reminded, she did't need to try at all and so there was absolutely nothing wrong with what she was saying or doing because she was a female already and it wasn't like she needed to learn.

"I didn't bother," I said, "I'm happy to be away from all that male orientated stuff," and I gave Private Pamela Anderson a googly-eyed expression, hoping she would take the hint and stop being disgusting.

Instead she made an affected vomiting noise with her mouth and throat, "you dirty whore," she said, "i bet you smell like piss now," and she laughed.

I stopped dead in my tracks and fixed Private Pamela Anderson with a googly-eyed expression, to let her know how much she had just hurtmy feelings, but I lost my nerve and simply burst into tears.

It was at that moment that a hail of sniper fire killed the fifty or so men who had been marching alongside us, helping carry our possessions through the desert for what had seemed like the entire day, and brown faces emerged from the sand dunes.


Tom Clancy's Rape Dungeons of Kabul, page 7

>>20939133
"theurs no su fing as skiens, BROTHER HURRDURR, theur is GOD-PUBA and then theur is SKIENTSIS whur people do DEMON-WTCH-SKIENS and SAT*N DELODES THUR MINDS WITH FALSE-HOLY-WISDUMB"

now suck my tiny tiny balls, brother hurdur