A number of things...

Several things on my mind atm:
First, there's a certan way I put my netbook into it's sleeve, so that I
can put it in my backpack. I put the computer in joint first*, oriented
the same direction as the sleeve**, then put the whole thing into the
backpack, handles*** up. I do this so it sits comfortably, and I can
quickly remove the computer, either by itself or with the cover.

I didn't do that the last time I put the computer in the case, b/c I was
just gonna put it in my glove compartment. I did, then left it there, and
the next time I needed it was just now, when I was putting it in my
backpack to come to starbucks and (among other things) type this.

memories from cut class
Cut class was yesterday. There's another one tonight. I'm going strictly
as a buddy to the greens. Chef asked last night what I do for them, and
the best analogy I could give was Imagine 4 female butterbars whose only
support was a high ranking NCO with about 6x the service experience they
had.

So he says to me, "Oh, so you were just like one of their moms?" To which
I reply "no, I did Buddy things too" Buddy things like the following.

We were all standing at the check-in table, R at the end, then me, M, D,
and L. Neeley, Dunn, (and maybe moore?) come through, no problems at all,
except that nobody had $5s. Then, the cocks show up, acting like idiots. I
am taking paperwork, and I hear one of the girls tell some fish not to
touch the pots (L&D's were sitting on the table). I look up to see one of
the chiefs say "this pot?" and put his whole hand on the pot. D grabbed
her pot and put it on, and the chief went back to filling out his cut
card, right there on the the table of course. So, I go around behind D and
say "Snatch his hat" "what? " "Snatch. His. <i>Hat</i>."
"Yeah, this pot, kinda like this HAT!" SNATCH!
At this point, he starts kinda cursing incoherently, and his eyes start to
bulge out, so D discards the hat on the table, and tells him again not to
touch her pot.
So, of course, at this point he practically lunges across the table
swinging wildly at her pot, and manages to catch the tip of the brim,
screaming not to touch his fucking hat. It flips the pot backwards off her
head, but I happened to be perfectly positioned to catch it in my right
arm, while with my left I just point at him (b/c at this point he seems
easily distracted) and tell him "Don't you ever touch her fucking pot"
"Fuck you, that pot doesn't mean shit"
At which point I told him, in addition to "fuck you", that his hat didn't
mean shit, because his dorm was dying. He didn't seem to have anything to
say, so he wandered off with his crew, mumbling curses at us under his
breath.
Also, he threw a pen at us later.

*the sleeve opens on the long edge
**And it has another pocket on the front
***And it has handles

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