Posted on 12/13/2016 7:22:43 PM PST by lafroste
OK, my son is at Parris Island right now and as of today has one month to graduation. He is hanging tough. But he wrote me and asked for more letters, more news. My fingers are about worn out sending and writing stuff. He likes Marine jokes and I sent him a few but I am running out of ideas. I would like you guys to submit Marine positive humor that I can send him to encourage both him and the other men in his platoon. We need to encourage these guys. Jokes are welcome. Letters are welcome. Help me support our newest Marines. They already deserve it!
..........you left out Postal Clerk’s. I brought (well, me and my shipmates) tens of thousands of jarheads their mail for 2 years in Sasebo, Japan between 1969 and 1971.
Mostly this was to the Marine Barracks/Sasebo but also ships coming in and out of Sasebo.
I particularly remember hauling semi’s full of mail to the Coral Sea, Constellation and Ranger. All 3 were in and out constantly.
Marked for reference...(by this Marine, 1968-1972)
Good luck to your son.
Semper fi.
A computer was programmed to converse at the level of IQ selected and punched in.
They punched in 140 and it started talking about astrophysics.
They punched in 110 and it talked about the current events in the news.
They punched in 68 and it stared singing “From the Halls of Montezuuuuuma.....’
USMC
Uncle Sam’s Misguided Children.
How to get a Marine’s attention? Hit him in the head with a 2x4. Then do it again so he knows you aren’t just kidding.
Out-effing-standing.
Thanks for service,
Army, RVM 66-67 and 69-71.
“Agreed. They may be dumb but they’re brave about it. 8>)”
I’ll take exception to that. 20 years after being on the Island, I designed the first large scale hypersonic test chamber and the second generation small scale hypersonic test chamber at Wright Patterson AFB, both a demonstration of will and intelligence. Don’t mistake Naivety for lack of intelligence. My will, forged at PI has carried me through many assigned task in my life.
A large group of Taliban insurgents are moving down a road when they hear a voice call from behind a sand dune: “One Marine is better than ten Taliban.”
The Taliban commander quickly sends ten of his best jihadis over the dune, whereupon a gun battle breaks out and continues for several tense minutes. Then silence.
The voice then calls out again: “One Marine is better than one hundred Taliban fighters.”
Furious, the Taliban commander sends his next best 100 troops over the dune, and instantly a huge gun fight commences. After ten minutes of battle, again silence.
The Marine voice calls out once more: “One Marine is better than one thousand Taliban.”
The enraged Taliban commander musters a thousand men and sends them screaming “Allahu akbar” as they cross over the dune. Cannon, rocket, mortar, grenade and machine-gun fire ring out as a huge battle is fought. Then total silence.
Finally, one critically wounded Taliban fighter crawls back over the dune, and with his dying words tell his commander, “Don’t send any more men, it’s a trap. There are two Marines!”
Oh man that’s funny!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Just in case those Marines end up at sea, there are 34 of these oldies but goodies at goatlocker dot org... some don’t apply anymore but they are still funny.
Ways to Simulate Navy Life at Home
1. Lock all friends and family outside. Your only means of communication should be with letters that your neighbors have held for at least three weeks, discarding two of five.
2. Surround yourself with 200 people that you don’t really know or like: people who smoke, snore like Mack trucks going uphill, and use foul language like a child uses sugar on cereal.
3. Unplug all radios and TVs to completely cut yourself off from the outside world. Have a neighbor bring you a Time, Newsweek, or Proceedings from five years ago to keep you abreast of current events.
4. Monitor all home appliances hourly, recording all vital information (ie: plugged in, lights come on when doors open, etc.)
5. Do not flush the toilet for five days to simulate the smell of 40 people using the same commode.
6. Lock the bathroom twice a day for a four-hour period.
Wear only military uniforms. Even though nobody cares, clean and press one dress uniform and wear it for 20 minutes.
7. Cut your hair weekly, making it shorter each time, until you look bald or look like you lost a fight with a demented sheep.
8. Work in 19-hour cycles, sleeping only four hours at a time, to ensure that your body does not know or even care if it is day or night.
I laugh every time I hear that one!
First off, I am INCREDIBLY proud of my Marine son!
My uncles were all Navy. My husband was Army. I have a certain loyalty to Navy and Army. Son wanted to join the Marines. When I asked him why, he responded, “Because I don’t want to be a pussy.” Don’t really think ANY of the men in the family are pussies, but okay.
So, when he’d make Navy jokes (i.e. Navy guys are called “squids” because they are a lower form of Marine life). I had to ask him if he REALLY knew what the acronym MARINE stands for. He looks wary and says, “It’s not an acronym!”
I tell him, “Of course it is! Stands for My Ass Rides In Navy Equipment!”
bkmrk
Are you sure that you want to hear the bad ones? Ok.
Q: What’s the most worthless thing on a woman?
A: A Marine.
During the energy crisis of the 70’s they told the Marines to disconnect one headlight to save energy.
Q The Navy has the Blue Angles, the USAF has the Thunderbirds, and the Army has the Golden Knights, but what do the Marines have?
A: Sex with sixteen year old girls*.
*Leared that one firsthand from high school.
“Hey jarhead, they teach us to wash after using the toilet. In the Navy.”
“Hey squid, they teach us not to pee on our hands in the Marines.”
Hiding from the Navy guys now.
Don’t know if any of these are what you had in mind, but...
Two ex-World War II American Generals were sat in a hotel bar, late at night, reminiscing over the old days.
The first was ex-Army, while the second had seen hard duty in the Marine Corps on various Pacific atolls. The first general insisted that the Army had the greatest reputation when it came to women, and that he had slept with hundreds during the war. However, the second was claiming that the Corps had, by far, the most virile young men, and that he has slept with more women than the first General.
“Hoss-piss!!” said the first man. “I know I’ve slept with more women than you!”
“Sheeeeet No!!”replied the Leatherneck, “I know for a fact that I have!”
“Okay, then, when did you last sleep with a woman?” inquired the first General.
“Oh, round about nineteen forty-five” boasted the Marine.
“You call that virile??? Hey, you’re practically a monk!”
Whereupon the Gyrene looked at his watch and drawled, “Well, don’t forget, it’s only twenty-one thirty now.”
During the recent War Games, the commanding officers had a wager on which branch of the service produced the men with the most guts. First the group went into the field where Army tank crews were in training. The Army General got on the radio and told one of the Privates to jump under a moving tank.
He did and he died immediately.
The General said, “Now that guy had guts.”
The Air Force General insisted that was nonsense, so they went to
where pilots were doing bombing tests. The General got on the radio and directed one of the pilots to crash his plane.
He did and died immediately.
The Air Force General said, “Now that guy had guts.”
The Marine Corps General claimed that was foolish, and next they all went
to a Marine shooting range. The general directed one of the Marines to jump in front of one of the targets.
This the jarhead did, and he perished immediately.
The Marine General said, “Now that guy had guts.”
Finally, the Navy Admiral said that they hadn’t seen anything yet. They went to an aircraft carrier that was in port, with a sailor at the top of the mast working on the radar systems.
The Admiral shouted up for the sailor to jump.
Shocked, the sailor called down, “What???”
The Admiral repeated himself.
Flipping the bird, the sailor shouted back, “Screw you!”
“See,” replied the Admiral, beaming broadly. “Now that guy has guts!”
If you told Navy personnel to “secure a building,” they would turn off the lights and lock the doors.
Army personnel would occupy the building so no one could enter.
Marines would assault the building, capture it, and defend it with suppressive fire and close combat.
The Air Force, on the other hand, would take out a three-year lease with an option to buy.
Blackie; Tom Hawkins; Alabam’; Slim, the ex-Marine; and some of the other fellers were doing a little bragging and lying and swapping of tall tales one afternoon down t’ the bunk house, when Alabam’ says, “You know, fellas, I once sat in on a show Crystal Gayle gave down in Waco, and after the show I went back stage to say, ‘Hi,’ and, fellas, Dolly Parton shook my hand.”
Tom Hawkins, not to be outdone, says, “That’s nothing, fellas. I was at a political fundraiser one time with the Mayor of Dallas, and had my picture taken with him. The next day, that picture was in the newspaper.”
Then Slim, the ex-Marine, pipes up and says, “Fellas, I don’t mean to put you all in the shade, but that’s pretty small potatoes. Fact is, I know everyone there is to know. Just name someone, anyone, and I know him.”
The other guys smiled at this, but the foreman called his bluff.
“Okay, Slim,” he snorted, “how about Jack Nicholson?”
“Hell, yes!” Slim exclaimed. “Jack and I are old friends, and I can prove it.”
In the face of universal derision, Slim wagers a thousand dollars that his word is good, and the foreman takes him on. The very next day, Slim and his boss fly out to Hollywood and knock on Jack Nicholson’s door, and sure enough, Jack opens up and shouts, “Slim! Great to see you. You and your friend come right in and join me for lunch...”
Although impressed, Slim’s foreman is still skeptical, so, after they leave Nicholson’s house, he pays up, but tells Slim that he thinks Slim’s knowing the famous star was just lucky.
“No, no, just name anyone else,” Slim says.
“Okay, then,” the foreman quickly retorts. “President Bush, for another thousand dollars.”
“Yes,” Slim says, “I know him; let’s fly out to Washington.”
And off they go. At the White House, Slim asks the executive usher to announce him to the President, and, much to the foreman’s dismay, they are immediately ushered into the Oval Office.
“Slim!” President Bush shouts cheerfully. “What a nice a surprise, I was just on my way to a meeting, but you and your friend come on in and let’s have a cup of coffee first and catch up.”
Well, the foreman is considerably chastened, but still he refuses to give up. After they leave the White House grounds, he once again pays out a thousand dollars, once again expresses his doubts to Slim, who again challenges the foreman to name anyone else.
“Fine, then, Slim,” grins the foreman. “Tell you what; give me a chance to win back my two thousand. The Pope!”
“No problem,” replies Slim. “I’ve known the Pope a long time; two thousand it is.”
So off they fly to Rome.
Slim and his boss are assembled with the masses in Vatican Square when Slim says, “This will never work. I can’t catch the Pope’s eye among all these people. Tell you what, I know all the guards, so let me just go upstairs and I’ll come out on the balcony with His Holiness.”
The Foreman grins broadly, but, with those words, Slim disappears into the crowd headed toward the Vatican.
Sure enough, half an hour later Slim emerges with the Pope on the balcony. But by the time Slim returns to the square in search of his foreman, he finds the man surrounded by a crowd of onlookers, at the center of which are four Italian paramedics.
Working his way through the group, Slim looks on as the boss is revived and well enough to stand on his feet once more.
Then Slim asks, “Boss, what happened?”
The foreman shakes his head once or twice, then explains, “It was when you and the Pope come out on the balcony together, Slim. The fellow standing next to me turned, scratched is head, and asked, ‘Who’s that on the balcony with Slim?’
‘Then I must have passed out.”
The Marine Corps Adjutant decided that he would personally intervene in the recruiting crisis affecting all of our armed services. He directed the recruiting department to publicize an open recruitment drive at which he would personally meet any prospective new Marines.
As he and his staff were standing beside a broad desk, a pair of twin brothers, tall straight, and handsome, walked up to him. The Adjutant stuck out his hand and introduced himself.
He looked at the first young man and asked, “Son, what skills can you bring to the Corps?”
The young man looked at him and exclaimed, “I’m a pilot!”
The Adjutant was excited to hear this, turned to his aide and said, “Get this man in today. See to all the paperwork right now. Get it done!”
The aide hustled the young man off.
The Adjutant looked at the second young man and asked, “What skills to you bring to the Corps?”
The young man exclaimed, “I chop wood!”
“Son,” the Adjutant sighed, touching the man on the shoulder with fatherly concern, “we don’t need wood choppers in the Marine Corps. What do you know how to do?”
Once again, the young man exclaimed, “I chop wood!”
“Young man,” huffed the Adjutant, “you’re not listening to me. We don’t need wood choppers, this is the Twentieth Century...”
“Well,” the young man said, scratching his head and looking sheepish, “you hired my brother...”
“Of course we did,” intoned the Adjutant, “he’s a pilot.”
“Well, dang, General,” the young man answered, “I have to chop it before he can pile it!”
A Marine and a GI were arguing over who was the better cocksman. The Marine’s topkick is betting every GI he sees that his guy can hump thirty women in a row without pausing, and satisfy them all.
Bets are made, and they agree that they’ll meet the next day.
The next day, thirty women from Baghdad are lined up along the oasis sands, and the Marine drops his pants and starts.
True to his word, he moves from one to the next, satisfying each one without pausing: one, two, three... on and on he goes. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, and... before he can get to the last woman, he has a heart attack and dies.
While the GIs chuckle and give each other the elbow, the topkick scratches his head in puzzlement and says, “I don’t understand it.... It went perfectly well at practice this morning.”
http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/f-news/3503785/posts
On a sunny day at the end of January 2017, an old man approached the White House from Across Pennsylvania Avenue where he’d been sitting on a park bench.
He walked up to the U.S. Marine standing guard and said, “I would like to go in and meet with President Hillary Clinton.”
The Marine replied, “Sir, Mrs. Clinton is not President and doesn’t reside here.”
The old man said, “Okay,” and quietly walked away.
The following day, the same man approached the White House and said to the same Marine, “I would like to go in and meet with President Hillary Clinton.”
The Marine again told the man, “Sir, as I said yesterday, Mrs. Clinton is not President and doesn’t reside here.”
The man thanked him and again quietly walked away.
The third day, the same man approached the White House and spoke to the very same Marine, saying “I would like to go in and meet with President Hillary Clinton.”
The Marine, understandably a bit agitated at this point, looked at the man and said, “Sir, this is the third day in a row you have been here asking to speak to Mrs. Clinton. I’ve told you already several times that Mrs. Clinton is not the President and doesn’t reside here. What don’t you understand about these facts?”
The old man answered, “Oh, I understand you fine, Sir. I just love hearing your answer!”
The Marine snapped to attention, saluted, and said, “See you tomorrow, Sir.”
Apologies beforehand.... How do you hurt a Marine? Throw sand on the wall and tell him to hit the beach.
Sir, I must compliment your son. I am quite certain that he has MANY good qualities but the one that impresses me most here is his sense of TIMING! Going through Paris Island is TOUGH but going through PI in the summer is MISERABLE & TOUGH! The fall is probably the best ‘season’ even though he may have had to do cleanup after H.Matthew.
Mostly visual: Let your eyes get big, crouch a bit, point and grunt....
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