“I ever tell you about the time I was in a Panamanian jail on kidnapping charges”
I’ve heard some funny stories in my day. Lots of them. There was one PFC in my unit that casually told a story one day about the time “me and some friends dug up a gentleman’s head to take him out for a good time.” That story was disturbing funny. I had another dude who had a great story about coming home from weekend drill to find that his then-wife had stolen everything from the house, including the dirty clothes he’d left in the washing machine. (This same chap had a series of stories that all ended with use of ether and a victim waking up to an erect man wearing only the upper half of a Batman costume.)
And I’ve seen comedians I love. Dennis Miller is hilarious. I love Bill Burr for his sarcasm and wit. And of course the late great (and all time TSO favorite comic) Patrice O’Neal. And I’ve never laughed as hard as I have with my friend, and the world’s funniest human being, David Bellavia. He has stories that he would tell and my sides would ache for days everytime I thought about how hard I laughed. He has one story about being a Match.com moderator that if I even think of it I start giggling.
Now, that said…..I was going through all the posts today, and came across a nugget on a post that got 5 comments. Which is ridiculous, because a post last week about masturbation got over 200. Now, I’m not saying Lilyea is in the league with the others for comedic delivery, but I nearly shit and drove off the road when he told me the story that he casually dropped into a post:
Yeah, I know Carcel Modelo [prison] pretty well, but my stay there was measured in days rather than months. I was there for kidnapping, but when the Canal Zone Provost Marshall told the Panamanians that the person who I supposedly kidnapped was in custody in the CZ, they let me go. But, it’s not a very friendly place. My toilet was a quart-sized milk carton, my bed was a couple of sheets of newspaper spread out on the concrete floor. Breakfast was a small roll and a cup of warm brown-colored water that they called coffee. Lunch was usually fish head soup, with real a fish head to prove it. So I have a sense of the conditions that Colonel Ruffer confronted. It was pretty scary and I wasn’t an undercover spy or anything.
Now granted he isn’t telling the whole story here. But for the love of Spongebob, how can your author drop a little nugget about spending time in a Panamanian Jail on kidnapping charges, and not a one of you said “Um, Bro, WTF?”
Category: Politics
Spent a few hours in a Turkish prison once…some who read this and been there, know what I mean!
pics or it didn’t happen
Well, I have the paperwork when the Army gave me back the bad time. Is that enough?
You know, I wish I could say I lived the kind of life where I could casually tell people I had spent time in a banana republic prison.
You forgot Crotchety Old Bastard…With him, I have never broken bread nor been on the phone and not been in tears from laughing.
Bells is the most outrageously hysterical though.
Sometime I’ll tell you the story about the first time I was arrested. 😉
Well, I, for one, am very glad the matter was resolved swiftly, Jonn. Imagine if you had been imprisoned there; you might never have come to grace the AlGore.net with your lovely writings on the men and women who defend our freedoms. Thank you for your service.
To all TAH readers, I am sorry for the trail of wreckage I seem to have left in the wake of your comment sections. You see, I was born with a chronically tiny penis. The situation did not improve with time, leaving me with only 3/4 inches of manhood to my name. It has caused me great anguish, until the last six months where I used the allowance and lawn-cutting money I’ve saved from living at my parents house since I was thirty to find a six-month drinking and painkiller binge. I don’t really remember what happened, but it appears to have been bad. However, after waking up in the middle of the desert in the Southwest (still trying to figure out how I got there), I meant an authentic Native American shaman named Phil (Phildo to his pupils) Monkress, who, in exchange for my social security number and bank PIN (he assures me he needs these merely to ensure my money is donated to charity to complete my transformation into an ascetic), taught me the art of native meditation and put me at peace with the Great Spirit. He taught me to be at peace with my minuscule member. I now have decided to wander the desert and live a life of prayer, and will never post here again. Bye! 😀
Well, I’m out. Nothing has ever happened to me, except for that time when I was at the bus stop waiting for the #145, and this old lady came up to me, mumbling to herself.
I said ‘Good morning.’
She looked me up and down and said ‘You nip! You gook! You’re responsible for millions of Americans dying in the Pacific!’
And I really look Japanese, don’t I? So I said, ‘I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.’
She looked at me again and snapped, ‘Shut up, slut!’
Other than that, my life is nothing, just one long flatline of normal.
@6-The time is now. Let’s hear it 😀
@7….it can now be told, PH-2 is a slut. But a nice slut.
I get a bad feeling about where this is going…
@ 1. Not funny. This is a no sh!tter. The following occurred in 1982.
In Istambul Turkey a man can live out a fantasy in great measure … a certain Boiler Techician First Class took his fetish to a new level.
The “Compound” in Istambul Turkey was essentially and institutionalized brothel. BT1 return to the ship happy, he was normally a miserable fu@k, and he was carrying a wooden leg. Not your average wooden leg, one that looks like the one you might have seen in a museum. He hung the wooden leg in the fireroom console (tiny control room).
The following day the POW piped and the ODD announced, “BT1 (name redacted) report to the Quarter Deck.”
Sailors have a seventh sence, it surpasses the sixth … We know when something good or bad is about to happen. Easily half the ship’s company was there when the one legged hooker was escorted onboard by local police to retreive her leg!
Editorial note: I made BT1 in 1987.
@ 7. I like you!
@7 For whomever posted for VWP…ROCK ON!!! That dimwit couldn’t form a sentence like those if his life depended on it. But it was funny as hell and I hope the real VWP reads it. By the way VWP, for wandering the deserts of the Southwest, you must have one hell of a great WiFi antenna!
Now Jonn, if you did an I.P. search and it IS the real VWP, I will amend my comment to, “VWP, get a life, grow up and go play in traffic”!
@7 – Hondo, is that you?
It aint Hondo. He did not sign off as.
See ya later Amigo!
@7 – good to see you’ve sobered up! Coherence is a wonderful thing!
@14-To answer your valid question about our wifi antennae, no, we’re just borrowing Jesse Ventura’s. He swung by earlier today in a twenty vehicle caravan while laying low from government drones and his own shadow.
I want to hear Jonn’s story.
Back to EX-PH2:
She is not a XXXX. She is a smokin’ hot woman.
So you ask, how do you know MCPO?
Because, I have had carnal knowlegde of EX-PH2.
Now my version of carnal knowledge may not be the same as yours but I will say this.
If I was a young GI in VN and set my eyes on EX-PH2 as per her photo in the the Members Tab … Well gents … That is carnal knowledge enough!
Sorry … Just sayin’!
So, Jonn tell the noobies your story. Think I’ve read about it or heard about it during one of the WRAMC events or over on the Mall. lol!
There are others here, too. Tribal elder Crotchrotsatawa (he was endowed woth the prestigious title after a mighty sacrifice of money to the Great Spirit through Shaman Phildo as an intermediary) sends his best, and praises the Almighty Phildo for helping him to find emotionally satisfying alternatives to taking money shots in truck stop bathroom stalls.
Jonn … Tell the story. God knows, we have told ours!
Craftswoman Snake Eyes Jordan is our head of ritual costume making. Her creative instincts and nonconformity have inspired us all, blending elements of all native tribes into distinctive outfits that define our tribe. She draws on experience in her previous life, where she also wore self-made hodgepodge outfits with elements from many different social groups (she calls them “branches”).
Okay Jonn…one question and I have to ask…sorry. But when you were “in”, did you get popped in the can by a bunch of Panamanians? 😀
Sorry to disappoint, but my anus is still “exit only”. They locked me in solitary confinement and didn’t let me out of the cell without an escort – and that was only for my weekly shower. The only books in English that they had, though, were gay novels.
Jonn, come out come out wherever you are. We’re ready to hear that story.
I spent 6 years in the PI. In fact, it’s where I acquired my nickname. And I’ll leave it at that….
But, this one time, there were two midgets involved.
Dammit, I forgot to change back my name at 26 😀
@26 IF you were the REAL VWP, then I already know you’ve been popped in the can on a daily basis…and liked it every time! 😀 😀 😀
@29-no, VWP is first cousin to the dread pirate Roberts. Today, the torch is mine.
Halloween 1977, had just bought my new Cadillac. Kid come by my office and throw eggs at my precious new Caddy. Myself and associate jump in said Caddy and give chase. Proceed to open moon roof and begin throwing beer bottles at egg throwers car. Egg thrower runs red light. Cop gives chase. We peel of to return to office. Get pulled over by same cop.
Cop walks up to driver side door. Turns out, said cop is my brother. After explaining the sequence of events, he lets me off with a warning.
@31 3/17 air cav…you don’t get luckier than that my man! Too bad you didn’t get a back window with a beer bottle though. That would have been some justice.
@32…..actually did hit egg throwers trunk. The tough part was when a bottle would land short and shatter, had to duck real quick to avoid the blow back of the broken bottles.
It may say something about TAH readers that we are so jaded we can let things like that pass by nearly un-noticed.
What exactly it says, is subject to some debate….
@35 well crap and ho-hum! 😀 Nothing to see here, move on, move on. Jonn I am glad though you came out “intact”. 😀 It figures those little Panamanians would like gay novels though.
Master Chief, that’s the nicest thing anyone ever said about me.
But it’s true — I WAS at that bus stop.
Jonn ,fress up. you treased us before. Now is time for the full story. Maybe I will tell about the time that I requesed permission To Come Aboard ship with a fellow Marine slung across my shoulder. Joe
The year was 1987, Marseille France, I decided I was going to find out what a french whore smelt like. Ended up at a drag show, Drunk off my ass with a buddy of mine. He gets it in his head that he is going home with one of the “Girls” she he it was all for it. Well I lost track of him and then I hear. This Girl Has a Dick!!! Yelled from a dark corner. The next thing I see is him with his pants around his Ankles taking a swing at the he she it. Some other guys from the ship were there and they grab him and we all get the hell out of dodge. We thought we were in the clear until two days later.
Div O and the Chief call dipshit and myself to the Quarter Deck where he she it, in drag with the local Po PO is waiting. Stupid Fucker had got his picture made with it. He went to mast. I got no liberty the rest of the stay and the picture stayed on the BB the rest of the Cruise.
PH-2…… Hope I did not offend you with the nice slut comment. It was meant in fun. I’ve seen your photo. You were, and probably still are, a looker.
@20 Master Chief!!! Man, you-a-talkin’ bout my girl thar! I’m the jealous type ya know so be careful whar ya go on yo next shore leave sailor. 😀
3/17AirCav, no offense taken. If I could remember half the sea stories I’ve heard, it would probably make you wonder just how much I spent in Olongapo or Subic Bay.
@27…just two? Cheapskate.
As for me, my stories are lame–when in PI, I only went to the Christian Science Reading Room. And that’s the truth, because the girlfriend is sitting 3 feet away from me.
Now Bo. Barretto, OTOH…
Did I tell you guys the one about using cat litter when you’re on patrol?
Knew a public affairs sergeant major who told me a story of being incarcerated in a Panamanian prison because he was in a 5-ton truck making a left turn and some asshat on a moped tried to pass him before he made the turn…on the left!
He was only a PFC at the time and he said he saw his life flashing before him as the Panamanian police put him in lockup and were making throat-cutting gestures to him through his cell.
Of course- when his unit chain of command showed up with eyewitnesses (in addition to the vehicle commander) who swore to the moped driver’s being a firm contender for the Darwin Award, he was released.
Having spent a few years as a wee lad in the Canal Zone before my dad got assigned to Fort Devens in the late 70’s I guess I kind of appreciate this story more than those who haven’t ever been there.
Sorry that I didn’t see your comments till now. I was working on some other stuff. I’ll tell the story tomorrow. It is almost funny in the rearview mirror.
The only one time I ever got pulled over was by a sheriff by the last name of Kopp. I still have the driving citation because it was just an all around absurd night!
I read Jonn’s comment at the time, but had also recently read his post on the Moatengators, and from what I read there, I considered this “normal” to that bunch. Seems that was just shortly after Crotchety Old Bastard shut down his blog and came over here.
First time I was arrested I was at a party at a local pond. Myself and some fellow airdales had closed down the local bar and were still in the mood for some drinking. We bought several cases of beer and headed out to the shoreline. A little while later one of my buddy’s cousins drives up in his new car. We thought it would be neat to play a trick on him. The guy was anal about his vehicle, so the idea was to sneak up behind the car, pull down the license plate (hinged) and remove the gas cap. Then, with the cousin diverted we’d toss it in the back seat. The guy would be driving off and smelling gas and wondering where the hell the smell was coming from. Well, we did a rock/paper/scissors thing and I won. It was one of those (literally) “here… hold my beer” moments. I had just bent down and pulled the plate down when suddenly I was thrown up on the back of the trunk with this megawatt light in my eyes. Turns out that it wasn’t bubba’s cousin after all, but an unmarked State Police Cruiser. Lucky me. Anyway, we get to trial (I’m charged with criminal mischief) and the Statie gets on the stand and lies his ass off about everything that night. He talks about how well lit the area was (it wasn’t… it’s why we drank there) not knowing that my lawyer lived literally across the street and the nearest light was on his front porch. 🙂 The judge took a dim view of a cop lying under oath and dismissed the charges saying that it wasn’t illegal for a member of the public to touch a public vehicle. He also warned me not to be seen in his court room again, which I heartily agreed to. My last view of that court room was of the State Trooper being verbally abused by the judge, who was demanding to know why he shouldn’t ask the DA for perjury charges against him. 🙂 30 years ago and I… Read more »
I haven’t got any good arrest stories, but, eh, I’ll tell my next best one. From 5th to 8th grade, I went to a lovely local Catholic middle school. Unfortunately, a fair number of the kids there were rotten apples in varying degrees of decay (we had two cutters in that class of 26, and we’ve had three other people get arrested for public indecency, basically boning on a park bench, in the year and a half or two years since graduation). Catholic school can have that effect; it often draws committed teachers and dedicated Christians and students, but it also often draws the spoiled brats who form most of that crowd. Anyway, then and now, the biggest fuckup was a kid we’ll call numbnuts schmuckatelli. Numbnuts specialized in groping girls and participating in football practice nearly naked (seriously, this kid was no Adonis either; he was all around nasty), and just generally having a raging little man complex, a terrible attitude, and the tendency to be a douchebag. Well, he went to a Catholic high school, thankfully not mine, after middle school. Then, he gets expelled sophomore year. Here’s what he did: he stole a cell phone from a really sweet, pretty, gifted girl who had graduated from our old middle school a year after us. Then, he promptly went to the bathroom and took a ton of naked pictures of himself and put them all over her Instagram. Here’s where it gets good. Those naked pictures? HE INCLUDED HIS OWN FACE IN SEVERAL OF THEM. So, when the girl in question got her phone back after a game of monkey in the middle, she took it straight to the principal. Of course, they knew right where to go. So he got kicked out, thankfully, and promptly organized a facebook black balling campaign that destroyed her reputation with all but her closest friends. She’s still recovering from that. I really need to track that kid down and give him a Future Valor Thief Award. That combination of maliciousness, obnoxiousness, and weapons-grade stupidity is exactly what we look for in… Read more »
@49-And that, sir, is how you tell a professional cop from the guy with phallic insecurities who joined the force to carry a badge and a gun and look cool…