Rad Lieutenant posted:

Is this an alt? Or has some dude built up this much angst in just 3 months?

Whip Slagcheek posted:

Jesus Christ, you'll never make detective with those sleuthing skills.

Nostalgia4Infinity posted:

cool meltdown over a 6 hour probation, dude.

But if you must know I'm happily employed doing a job where I'm my own boss and largely set my own hours. The pay's great and my boyfriend and I are planning on getting married later this year and have started setting aside money for buying a house. Not that I need to explain myself to you aside from laughing at this meltdown over, again, a 6 hour probation.

holocaust bloopers posted:

What's the first two?

Nostalgia4Dicks posted:

Nostalgia4Dicks posted:

elite_garbage_man posted:

wait, n4i's bf is gay?

Kung Fu Fist gently caress posted:

confagulation!

Whip Slagcheek posted:

I don't care what kind of wings you like, as long as you eat them with blue cheese. If you use ranch, get the gently caress out of GIP.

Duzzy Funlop posted:

You really need to whip yourself up some homemade ranch and try it with a variety of things. There's a gigantic difference between the homemade stuff and store-bought dip/dressing garbage.

ElMaligno posted:

no n41 bf is a wookie

holocaust bloopers posted:

What's the first two?

quote:

CISNAZI WEEDHITLER posted:
Go ask the career development folks at the MPF. Also pimp the TMO folks and ask them.

The final answer comes from one of those two sources. And in the end you have a 50/50 chance of being told the wrong thing anyway.

But you asked for thoughts, and after smoking a bowl and contemplating things, I had a thought I'd like to share with you.

Have you considered not marrying your fiancee?

I can count on one finger the number of guys that were USAF intel officers that I wouldn't line up outside the gas chambers if the fourth reich became a thing.

A few years from now, when you can't even stand to look at him without feeling a sense of extreme hatred and disappointment simultaneous to realizing that at 28 years old you spend 50% of your day thinking about becoming a divorcee, remember this advice: Run the gently caress away now.

Seriously, there is a 100% chance your fiancee is a tool and a loving nitwit. There is a 100% chance that he will be peer pressured into becoming a distilled version of fighter pilot gay bro'ness not by dudes that fly fighter jets, but other sperged out intel retard officers. He's going to start saying things like "Check, Rodge, Vector, Burner" and other associated lame as gently caress things, while also sometimes randomly wearing a flightsuit to work on Fridays despite his only flight time being the fam flight he poo poo his pants or puked his guts up during.

Also he's going to cheat on you. Oh man is he going to cheat on you. And there is a not too bad chance that it won't be with some good looking gal, but rather some dumb bitch enlisted intel girl that almost got a degree in psychology from her podunk state school before she decided she hated the taste of gargling frat sperm and dropped out and joined up to get a chance at being the hottest little twat in a windowless SCIF in Japan.

But don't worry about that breaking your heart, he'll never tell you. You'll be too busy caring for the 3-4 kids he demands you squeeze out in repayment to the base model BMW 3 series he's going to buy you when he gets to his second assignment at Tinker AFB.

When he's not deep dicking some borderline inbred dipshit Airman who's a civilian 5 and intel 12, he'll be lording over you how his job and career come first, and pray he doesn't make more money than you because that'll come up everytime you sigh audibly at the dinner table where you two will passive aggressively try to grind down each others will to live and breathe.

By this point as a captain he's going to be TDY 1-2 months a year, where he's getting half assed hand jobs from third tier strippers on excursions with the least socially inept enlisted guys in his flight-- this is probably the point where his raging alcoholism will be so clear and obvious to you that you two will start fighting every saturday before kick off when his colleges football team inevitably will take a beating. This fight won't stop until his next TDY when the sweet release of his toothless stripper infidelities and lack of home presence gives you time to bust out your big giant purple *BZZZZZ* friend whenever those walking talking pants making GBS threads machines you call children fall asleep long enough to let you deaden the nerves in your clitoris.

Soon after he'll take his third assignment, the one right before he pins on Major, and suddenly he'll be pressuring you into becoming a fundamentalist christian, and he'll delete all of his whores off of his facebook account and spend his home time posting image macros about 2nd amendment rights, and how jesus spoke english in the bible so these loving mexicans should too. At this point you two will be consigned to bi-annual loving, and only when you've drank enough cheap boxed wind to be able to stand the idea of him pounding away on you missionary style but still refusing to look you in the eyes.

This will also be the point when your oldest childs ADHD and pyromania are diagnosed, and one of your parents die. There is around a 85% chance one of you is going to be eating zoloft and klonopin out of loving pez dispensers, and waking up angry that the sweet release of death hasn't taken one of you out of this loveless hosed up marriage.

Somewhere in here the idea of swinging is going to come up casually as an almost joke when you are both in the blissful release of a nice drunken buzz, and one of you will actually be very open and interested in the idea. The other is going to wind up being an unhappy accomplice wondering why your partner wants to gently caress almost chubby guys with spray on tans, or watch the sacred hole through which your children came into this world be filled with all manner of different ethnicities of cock.

I'm late to bring this up, but sooner rather than later you're also going to screen positive for HPV, and your intel officer husband is going to take every bit of research skills he has from his job to convince you that you got it from donating blood or sitting on a toilet seat.

You didn't get it from the Red Cross or a trip to the shitter.

As it stands now though, you can walk the gently caress away and enjoy a life that I'm pretty sure would be better than the above. And you'll never have to see the inside of an officers wives meeting which is a lovecraftian hell that makes my description of your future seem like Charlie's trip through the chocolate factory.

holocaust bloopers posted:

I don't think his boyfriend would approve of his internet vet buddies scaring everybody.


unless the gip dogges come along too

Equine Don posted:

the gently caress is going on in here

elite_garbage_man posted:

how do you guys clean your cast iron skillets?

elite_garbage_man posted:

how do you guys clean your cast iron skillets?

Genocide Tendency posted:

You throw it in the oven until you are going to use it again.

EVA BRAUN BLOWJOBS posted:

or just buy enameled cast iron if you want zero maintenance

ded posted:

got my 12" skillet

cooked a big rear end steak and it only took up 1/2 of the pan