Terminal Lance

Tango Lima Actual

The Lance Corporal Underground

December 12, 2016

My buddy at headquarters told me they’re gonna make “Senior Lance Corporal” an actual rank. It’ll be like Specialist in the Army, but not retarded.


I heard Trump wants to limit the military to only gay and lesbians to cut down on the cost of dependents.


I heard Alvarez got busted down so many times they sent him back to boot camp.


My buddy at battalion said our unit is on standby to be deployed to Iraq any day now…


There’s this wook over at supply that will hook you up if you hook her up… With women. She’s lesbian as fuck.


I heard the POG barracks have an ice cream machine and live concerts on Thursdays.


My cousin in boot camp told me they’re handing out stress cards now, and they’re not gonna do the reaper anymore.


There’s a stripper out in town that’s married to 17 different Marines in the battalion. At the same time.


A friend of mine in DC told me General Mattis is going to start doing free Panda Express Monday in the chow hall after he takes office.


No one has seen Thompson for 3 weeks, but we keep signing his name on the roster because we don’t want to get in trouble.



Terminal Heathen

Friday Night

October 21, 2016

It’s 2059 on a Friday night at the barracks.

Pizza delivery cars riddle the parking lot and beer cans can be seen crunched up, or tipped over in the smoke pit. Marines huddle around each other trying to bum cigarettes and butt fucking cherries since only one person has a lighter. The asshole always playing his guitar on the benches strums away as a passerby steps on and knocks over his spitter. The hills in the background are filled with drunk Marines laughing and falling as the duty can be heard yelling at them to come back. The atmosphere is light and almost unforgettable.

Friends start to slowly pile out of their cars returning from downtown; some are intoxicated, some are sober, and some are just out of their minds. “Yuts” and “Rahs” can be heard all through the parking lots, while those on looking just shake their heads and laugh. Co-workers come up and say their hellos, wearing possibly more beer than they even drank and the smell of cheap whiskey rolls off of their breath with every word they speak. They talk about their adventures for the night and stories of different bars, the “Purple Church” and different girls/guys are exchanged.


Open barracks room doors give a show of their own. One room has Marines piled in just to watch a “thunder dome” match, with music blaring so the duty can’t hear them. Down a tier an open room shows two friends watching a scary movie, drinking beer and angry from all the noise that’s being caused upstairs. Another room is just a Marine all alone with his door open, all the lights off, except for a computer screen playing League of Legends, or WOW, and just enjoying his time off of work.

As you walk on the catwalk to your room you pass the laundry room and peak your head in. The room is empty and as you walk up to the folding table in the middle of the room you start to read some of the doodles and scribbles that are on it: “Cockasaurus rex,” “Wagner loves cock,” “SSgt eats my dick,” etc. You can’t help but chuckle. You exit the room to see two more Marines running the catwalks fighting each other off with beer can swords that they just made that night. You continue on and as you look to your right someone throws a blue mattress off of the tier above you and all you can think is “What the fuck just happened?”


Minding your own business you slowly make your way to your room. You open the door to an empty room and let out a sigh of relief. The room to yourself for the night, or at least you hope. You plop down on to your bed and turn your tv on to watch some Netflix, but of course it doesn’t work because the barracks internet never works. You shut your TV off and close your eyes and think to yourself…

“Only X more days until I EAS.”