Dear Instagram Diary, Day 1 – 7

Last week, I added an Instagram account to this site. So many memes, so little space… It’s to the right. If you are on a phone, or reading it via email, you ain’t gonna see it.

GunpowderedInk <–Instagram Clicky.

I chronicled my adventure.

Day 1.

Dear Diary, today I created a public, but Top Secret Instagram account. This way I can avoid offending anyone who doesn’t want to see this stuff on my private personal account. GunpowderAndInk was taken, so GunpowderedInk will have to suffice. Time to post some humorous, but factually correct pictures promoting Christianity, Conservativism, and Pew-pewing… and smacking liberals with logic. A few of my favorite things.

Oh look, 5 likes. And two adds already. One is selling bottled hotdog water, supposed to cure acne. The other is a holster company.

Day 2.

Dear Diary,

Today I had the following conversation with my wife.

Wife: “Someone stole your identity! They took your picture. Wow, you are so handsome. I’m such a lucky girl to be married to a hunk like you. But they are posting a bunch of funny, but thought provoking, and truthful stuff on Instagram! (Paraphrased, but mostly correct.)”

Me: “Yeah… that’s me.”

Note to self. Next time don’t use real name or picture, dumbass…

Oh, look. More likes, more adds. More companies of random stuff. Including a sunglass company.

Day 3.

Dear Diary,

More friends are adding me on Instagram. Because Instagram is suggesting my not-so-secret account to friends on my real account. Buckle up kiddos. While I try to stick to posting family stuff on my private account, this account doesn’t care about your feelings. Regardless of how incorrect or fragile they may be.

A bunch of more companies for random crap are adding me. One is a dude with a lot of hair, who lounges on boats all day with stacks of money next to him. Hmmm… can’t be real. The money would wash away.

A few real people. I’ve been asked several times now what sort of gun I carry by a holster company. Then told to check them out. No thanks, I like my IWB Comp-Tac Minotaur. 10+ years with the exact same holster, cause it’s that freaking awesome.

Sunglass Company liked every single picture I had then unfriended me.

Day 4.

Dear Diary, liberals have already begun arguing me. That was quick. Let the educationing and hurt feelings commence.

Sunglass company added me as a friend again. Yay? Hitting about 10-12 likes per picture. Is this fame? Someone pinch me.

Day 5.

Dear Diary, someone called me a bad name. Since I’m not a Beta Male, it has no effect on me. I laugh at their silliness. I played Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2, a lot back in the day. I’ve heard every possible variation of “I banged your mom” in a multitude of languages I didn’t understand.

Except North Korean, cause they don’t have internet.

Sunglass Company liked all the pictures I posted over the past couple of days. Told me to buy stuff from them. I didn’t respond.

Had my first repost of a picture I posted and hit 18 likes on one picture. Heeeeyyyy. I’m officially INSTA-FAMOUS! I’m going to start offering online coaching for something… I dunno. Whatever makes you feel bad about yourself and you think some random dude on the other side of the internet can give you for money…

Day 6.

Dear Diary, nothing new to report. I posted some pictures and followed ESEE Knives. Cause I just bought one of their ESEE 3’s, military version. It’s beautiful. I’m going to kill and eat things with it.

Sunglass Company unfriended me again.

More random companies keep adding me. Some real, living people mixed in. I’m thinking of offering ‘Good Vibes’ for money. That’s a thing. Instead of praying, people offer ‘Good Vibes’. Whatever the hell that is…

$5.25 per vibration.

Day 7.

Dear Diary, I wonder if women are bombarded with obvious fake accounts, with women in lingerie  as the profile pic, who directs them to click an obvious porn link? Or do they get offers from thonged men?

Do the bots know how to differentiate male and female accounts due to our profile pictures?

If unsure of gender, does it double-down and just send one of both?

How do bots differentiate between the other 50 made up genders? Or like me, do they not care.

Sunglass Company refriended me. Woohoo. Liked all of my pictures again. Commented the exact same pitch as several days ago. More companies are pestering me. A few more real people.

Instagram is ridiculous. This is why my personal account is set to private.

Yet I still post pictures, because my phone storage is full of them. And it makes me happy.

Oh, yeah. Still offering ‘Good Vibes’. $5.50 each now. Because I’m INSTA-FABULOUS.

Postal Money Order only.

 

“Kind of like reading Louis L’Amour, but with dinosaurs.”

That’s from one of my books Beta (Rough Draft) Readers. As someone who grew up reading pretty much all of Louis L’Amour’s books – that’s as high of praise as I could ever hope for.

Mathematically speaking, I’m 36% through the final draft. Which doesn’t mean much since the story length grows and shortens as I edit. After this draft, it will be the ‘return to the beginning and nit pick every single freaking sentence for errors’. Writing a book is kind of a PITA.

I’ll hit walls sometimes, a scene usually that takes a few days to work my way through. It’s draining, but bursting through that sucker and rampaging through the next few thousand words of good stuff makes it all worthwhile.

There should be a general rule for a writer, if you realize the opportunity to do something awesome in your work, freaking do it. The reader will thank you for it. No one will ever thank you for making something mediocre.

Never.

Except Stephen King’s readers. They keep rewarding him with monies for his mediocre crap.

(Side note, he wrote Dream Catcher while tripping on Oxycontin. Another one of his, AHH! THE SPECIAL KID WAS AN ALIEN THE WHOLE TIME! SURPRISEEE!)

Sigh.

I’m anxious to start the next series.

Because while the outline on the sequel is mostly finished, I really have another story I want to tell about Marines on an island during WWII.

Because the ocean covers 70% of the planet, and 95% of it is unexplored.

That leaves 95% of crazy shit I can make up and stuff into a book full of BARs, Thompsons, M1 Garands, Japanese suicide charges, Mitsubichi Zeros, P51 Mustangs, and…

Did I mention Flame Throwers? Oh heck yeah.

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Forget this book – I want to write THAT ONE.

(Excuse me while I go type faster.)

I once planned my entire life out.

Facebook reminded me of that today with this picture that I posted four years ago, when I picked up Sergeant.

I even had a pair of LT chevrons inside my cover. I was just waiting for the perfect opportunity for an officer to get waxed.  Then I could slap those bad boys on and scream for everyone to FIX BAYONETS, CHARGE!

battlefieldpromotion

Oh Marine Corps, how I sort of, kind of, sometimes, miss you and all the dreams of violent glory that never came to fruition.

Slayin’ Nazi’s is as American as eating apple pies.

WAR &amp; CONFLICT BOOKERA:  WORLD WAR II/WAR IN THE WEST/FRANCE
Landing on the coast of France under heavy Nazi machine gun fire are these American soldiers, shown just as they left the ramp of a Coast Guard landing boat, June 6, 1944. CPhoM. Robert F. Sargent. (Coast Guard) NARA FILE #: 026-G-2343 WAR & CONFLICT BOOK #: 1041

“You are about to embark upon the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months. The eyes of the world are upon you. The  hopes and prayers of liberty loving people everywhere march with you.

In company with our brave Allies and brothers-in-arms on other Fronts, you will bring about the destruction of the German war machine, the elimination of Nazi tyranny over the oppressed peoples of Europe, and security for ourselves in a free world.

Your task will not be an easy one. Your enemy is well trained, well equipped and battle hardened. He will fight savagely.

But this is the year 1944! Much has happened since the Nazi triumphs of 1940-41. The United Nations have inflicted upon the Germans great defeats, in open battle, man-to man. Our air offensive has seriously reduced their strength in the air and their capacity to wage war on the ground. Our Home Fronts have given us an overwhelming superiority in weapons and munitions of war, and placed at our disposal great reserves of trained fighting men.

The tide has turned! The free men of the world are marching together to Victory!

I have full confidence in your courage and devotion to duty and skill in battle. We will accept nothing less than full Victory!

Good luck! And let us beseech the blessing of Almighty God upon this great and noble undertaking.”
Dwight D. Eisenhower

Today is the 74th Anniversary of D-Day.

The day when 160,000 allied troops converged on a 50-mile stretch of heavily fortified open beach. By the end of the day, almost 10,000 Allied soldiers were killed or wounded and we owned a chunk of France.

The oceans ran red with the blood of their sacrifice that day.

We owe them great thanks.

Now go watch Saving Private Ryan or Band of Brothers to get the heebie-jeebies at seeing what they went through. Because they broke the mold after the Greatest Generation.

Personally, if I could pick an era to spend my prime years in, it’d be the 1940’s.

Cool clothes, cool hair, fantastic weaponry, Kate Beckinsale, and slayin’ Nazi’s. (That was a reference to the movie Pearl Harbor by the way)

Doesn’t get more American than that.

And speaking of weaponry.

43M1Garand

My 1943 M1 Garand. (Ooo! Aaaahh!)

If you aint’ got one, go to TheCMP.org and buy a Garand. For reals.

First off, it’s not considered an evil ‘assault rifle’ because it uses a 8 round enbloc clip and not one of those horrid 30 round magazines. So it’s legal pretty much everywhere.

Second, of the 5 million Nazi’s killed during WWII, I’d say the M1 Garand waxed a good 20 percent. I pulled that number of thin air, but my point is this – it’s lethal. 30-06 is a superb round.

Third, they are CHEAP at CMP. For $650 bucks you can have a ‘Field Grade’ Garand capable of killing every land critter in the world. Buy one anywhere else and you will pay $1000 or more. And they won’t last forever. Once they are gone, the price will sky rocket.

Fourth, the history. Personally, I hope mine protected it’s carrier by slaying everything that moved before him in a Fascist’s uniform. And hopefully, it wasn’t some unlucky one that went through multiple dead GI’s before ending up in my hands. -shudder-.

But it’s kind of like these reincarnation folks.

They are always some reincarnated King, or Prince, or Princess.

They’re never some gutter rat who was ran over with a wagon after stealing a rotten apple in the streets of England back in the early 1800s.

You kind of just hope for the good possibility.

All that aside.

Today was a good day.

Men with giant brass balls clanged their way ashore, kicked evil in the teeth, and pushed them back until their hell-bound overlord shot himself in the face with a Walther PPK.

God bless them for their courage, sacrifice, and valor.

 

No one likes Party Poopers on Memorial Day.

I posted this on Facebook Sunday and felt it was relevant enough to move here and go more in depth.

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Personally, if I got waxed by some poop head… I’d want everyone I know to grill out, drink some beers, eat burgers, shoot some guns, and enjoy a three day Memorial weekend however they want.

Because that’s freedom. Freedom from the very people that our vets died defending it from. You know what freedom is?

It’s cooking a fat burger over charcoal instead of being forced to attend public book burning or mass indoctrination rallies.

It’s about drinking a cold beer with the boys instead of wondering if your door will be kicked in during the middle of the night and your family taken to some gulag where you’ll be worked to death or executed because you have a college degree.

It’s about throwing water balloons at your kids instead of worrying if your daughter will be stoned to death as a ‘honor killing’ if she is sexually assaulted.

It’s about wearing American colored sun glasses on a boat instead of worrying about gas shortages, eating rats, or prostituting yourself to survive. (Looking at you Venezuela)

It’s about lounging in lawn chairs instead of worrying if you’ve got enough food in your underground bunker in case the Russkies or North Koreans nuke us.

It’s about being able to freely and openly bicker with your family about your differing political views without worry of being labeled a dissident and snatched off with a bag over your head to be dropped into a mass grave.

THAT’S what our vets defend us and others against!

And if we Americans can’t enjoy our way of life, then what was the point of their sacrifice?

You want to place flags on all the vets graves? Right on!

You want to pour a forty on your battle buddies grave? Sounds good!

You want to see a flag at half mast and throw up a quick prayer to our Lord and Savior, to thank Him for gracing our existence with such men who would selflessly die for others? Awesome!

You want to drive four hours and play in a swimming pool with your family? DO IT.

You want to grill some tasty meat? DO IT.

This is America.

Every day is the Fourth of July. Every day is Veterans Day. Every day is Memorial Day.

EVERY DAY IS THE ‘REST OF THE WORLD SUCKS AND WE DON’T’ DAY!

And I’m not about to bash someone for having a good time on Memorial Day by assuming they don’t care about our honored dead.