Dongducheon Mayor Complains that US Troops Do Not Spend Enough Money Off Post

We can help the economy by allowing everyone to live off post and close down the DFAC.

The Chicken and Beer joints will see a nice increase over their already frantic business.

With the new rotational brigade supposed to be replacing 1ABCT they will see a lot less families coming over and that means less rent and utilities paid, less used cards being sold, less money to maintain those jalopies, etc. USFK has never stopped soldiers from paying for sex and it won’t in the future. Where there is a will, there is a way. Count on 90% of the transaction going straight to the bar or massage parlor owner. That’s helping the economy for sure.

In an intetesting and thoughtful comment on bike racing and supplyside economics, how the hell did I get thrown in at the end as being an old, condomless perv?

Ha ha… see what you get for not keeping a low profile like me?

Wear not thy panty nor the panty of thy wife or sister but take that which belong to the stranger of a fine home and is guarded like treasure, for upon donning such a delicate garment one knowest a pleasure only matched by the glory of His word.

– Cromulens 3:14

“Men love their panties, not because they are great, but because they are their own.” ~Seneca

The familiar metallic taste of oxidized chromium residue burned darkly in the back of his parched throat as he slotted his deck on a covergence vector between the throbbing surface nodes and the frosty haze of an infinite sullen sky.

And there it was before him, a sudden appearance of seamless brushed steel and ancient yellowed alabaster which has been dutifully assembled by the shaky wrinkled hands of an ancient blind Asian craftsman in a hastily molded containment pod reeking of sweet keytones and longchain monomers on a damp neon-lit alley of Old Chuba City before the Scorcher had turned it into a muddy seawater filled crater containing only the detritus of past civilization and the dusktime twinkling of frantic jellyfish slowly pulsing to the bittersweet memories of the lost melancholy rhythm of bygone human habitation.

And he was surprised to arrive upon it so suddenly in spite of his longing expectations. In a burst of meta-awareness, he found himself surprised at his own unexpected surprise.

“Open motherkker,” he thought, but it already knew, anticipating the subtle essence of his coming commands as bubbling electrolytes flooded his enhanced synapses which flashed with far infrared sparks in the dark recesses of his warm damp brain.

And there within the gossamer tendrals of the iridescent flux, lay the delicate panty shimmering rapidly with characteristic broadband emissions he instinctively recognized as a terminal byproduct of his knowingly careless interfacing with the unshielded index wire he had so casually purchased from the ratty little Indian dwarf in a white suit with the gleaming gold tooth and the wondering cynernetic blue eye which looked up at him hatefully from the fractal cell in which he was bonded.

He greedily clutched the panty with his outstretched replacent arm, servos screaming in angry resistance at his unfounded haste, emitting a sweet cloud of compressed machine oil mist as it crossed the flux barrier and burrowed through exponentially changing energy levels.

He frantically secured the hissing panty in the prestressed obsidian containment tube where it sat deep in the leather shoulder holster containing the worn Osaka-Martinez pistol coded to his DNA, and tightly screwed down the iridium cap, pressing his thumb harshly on the glowing sensor plate to secure the timed magnetic locks that would protect his cargo regardless of the likely outcome.

And then he was gone without a trace like the misty ghost in an ancient machine.

“I have harnessed the panties that stride from world to world to sow death and madness.”
~ H.P. Lovecraft, From Beyond

“Individually, we are one pant Together, we are panties.” ~Ryunosuke Satoro

Hey there’s a panty thread you know.

For some reason that sounds dirty. 😮

U.S. troops are cheap, just face it i.e. mtb rider: “The money sucking bar scene gets old after a few weeks”

What a dud!
￣□￣;

Billy tightens the stolen panties around his c0ck with a scream that shatters glass… he falls through space… a thousand feet, masturbating with the panties end over end, with his sperm falling beside him.

He comes all over the bedbug spray and castrates himself with a razor for for the thrill of loss outside the Mosque amid the filth and shyt while wet dreaming of a thousand panty wrapped c0cks writhing like centipedes.

The panties now fit and he can become the Lesbian Zen monk with the rubber peniis wielded with corkscrew movements of his fluid hips.

– William Burroughs

MTB RodeEm/him & chicken ~ snakehead = Quit Boring Everyone! 6 second video below…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i8LOLswfTkQ

Panties, or not panties–that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep–
No more–and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to. ‘Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep–
To sleep–perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.

Either the memory of past panties is the anguish of today, or the agonies which are have their origin in the panties which might have been. – Edgar Allen Poe

Billy Pilgrim backed away from the mirror, took off the stolen panties and placed them in his pocket. He walked backwards out his door and down the street to the laundromat where the door opened behind him to let him in and then closed against his outstretched palm. He removed the stolen panty from his pocket and raised it to his nose where he exhaled a lungfull of molecules composing the funk normally found in used panties. He placed them in an unattended basket and then quickly moved his hands around amid the clothes that ordered themselves. He glanced around to be sure he would not be seen and wondered how he had become unstuck in time. So it goes.

– Kurt Vonnegut

Setnaffa,

Life is too short, Sometimes you just have to temporarily let go of your worries and responsibilities in order to slow down and sniff the panties.

LOL… I think that’s the first time I rated a CH Limerick…

I shall treasure this brief moment.

There. It’s done. 😀