Money for nothin...

...and your chicks for free.

Or so goes the song.

About a month and a half ago, I got married to my wife (yeah, I know, good person to get married to, right?), and after a royal clusterfuck, I finally got all the paperwork and went down to IPAC to see if I could get hooked up with some cash, somewhere. After sitting there for a bit with some private, I got jack shit. No BAH, no BAS, not even fucking seperation pay, even though my wife is stationed in Missouri. I didnt think I would get all of that when I got in, but I figured seperation was a given seeing as we're in different states and shit. But no, that private shot me down, like a bitch. Not that he was a boot private who was motivated and trying everyting in his power. No, he was a fucking shitbag private. I know, that can sound like a harsh label, but let's look at the facts:

• While looking at my BIR/BTR he noticed that we went to boot on the same day, just opposite coasts
• My friend Mike was in the same company as him. This is the funny part though, Mike told me about 2 years ago or so that his company was filled with shitbag recruits. He had a guy in his company that shat and pissed himself on a daily basis. Wow.
• I'm a LCpl , and he's a fucking private. Owned.

So anyway, because my wife is getting out and moving here, we need a place for her to move her shit to, and thats kind of hard, when I can't get money for a place, or apply for housing. Long story short, between our assorted chains of command we somehow managed to slap sense back into my IPAC not unlike what you would do to a wayward red-headed stepson. Tomorrow I meet with one of the Cpls there and we are sitting down and unfucking all of this and starting my backpay so my wife and I have a place to stay until we figure out wtf is going on.

Moral of the story: if a private tries to help you, say no, and ask for an E-3 or higher.

"The only foes that threaten America are the enemies at home, and these are ignorance, superstition and incompetence."
-Elbert Hubbard