After my brother joined the army, I started getting a little jealous that he had so much fun stuff to write home about. So I began writing letters from basic training.
Basic is just brutal. DS Toughkins doesn't take no backtalk from nobody. And you know my legendary love of backtalk. Why, I'd rather backtalk than just plain talk any day. I just got done scrubbing everybody's toothbrushes with a toothbrush. I don't see the point of it. My bunkmate, Tripwire, I donno if he's gonna make it. His bed is never made properly. And I've been tryin' to help him, while at the same time messing up his bed while he isn't looking. I don't have much time to write. Sorry this was brief. I only got 35 seconds of sleep last night.
From the front,
This is my second letter from training basically, just in case you're having trouble keeping them in order. Well, it's day 6 of basic, and nobody has noticed that i've sneaked a cat into the barracks with me. He sleeps in a tote beneath my bed, and lives on a nutrient-rich paste I cough up for him after chowtime. um, that was a disgusting thing to write. I named him Recon. I've convinced the women working in the dining hall to put gravy on everything they serve me. (Chocolate milk and gravy = new favorite). they might be censoring my letters to make sure i'm not using any restricted words. in case they are, i'd just like to end by saying taliban taliban taliban al queda.
Did you get my previous 2 letters? It's been weeks (in fake basic training time) and I haven't heard back. Ma and Papasmurf sent a care package with all my favorite chewing gums in it. Trident, dentine, dentine ice... During PT today one dude tripped and the kid behind him didn't notice and fell on top of him, and everyone behind them fell on top of them like homoerotic dominos. It was the high point of my day and the day of many of the dominos I'm sure. I've picked up the nickname giraffe-neck, probably because of how I like to nibble on the highest leaves I can reach while we're outside waiting for further instructions. I don't like that nickname.
From the front to the back,
Sorry I haven't written in a while. They keep us so busy here that all I wanna go when I get free time is sleep and dream about how they keep us so busy here. Recon the cat is doing well. He is a constant source of comfort, inspiration and fleas. Recently I sent him on a mission. I probably sent him on this mission because I'd named him Recon, and that seems like the name of a cat that would go on a mission. I sent him into the mess hall after lights out to gather whatever information and entrees he could, and bring them back to me. I was hoping at least for a chicken-fried steak, or a chicken-fried anything really. Sadly, he came back with nothing. Today I told Drill Seargeant Toughkins that at this point, I understand the mechanics of push-ups as much as a person can, and I don't think I can learn anything more about them by doing more. He responded by ordering me to do 100 push-ups.