NOTICE: All military communications are censored prior to transmittal as per MSA Art II Sec 9A P31.
Censor #1248346213492134
FROM: Thomas Garson, Sergeant
125th Mechanized Assault Recon Division
(tgarson@mech.pickledpunks.mil)
TO: Elliot Garson, Sr. (lovedabighoe@oht.na.4u2nv.com)
Dear Sir,
Greetings from (censored)! I've been much busy since enlisting with the 125th. They're first class bol mashing bastards to tell true. Everything was much tougher than I believed. The begins suck worst. They still gots a high rejection rate for the early grafts but I's fine. No signs of hyper-aggression psychosis.
The training was brutal. I never knowed something could be so exhausting. It's hard to explain. I realize I'm discorporate now but I still get tired. Weird.
We're trapped in school constantly. Quantum math, chemistry, physics, orbital mechanics, celestial nav, systems repair, waldo training, synapse acceleration training, polytite binding, strategy, tactics and a whole host of other things that eventually just become second nature. When your brain is wired, it's impressive how quick you retain.
Happily they've given us 6 days R&R!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
R&R is good. That's when we get to go Simming!
One thing they make clear to us newbie FNGs-- In the Sim you don't jaw about the braincase. Sim looks, smells and feels real...so it's real. Perception is reality and that shit. And they'll kick holy bols outta anybody says other. Relax, enjoy - no shop.
Personal, I'm in with that directive. Who the hell wouldn't want to be 21 years old forever? That's what we are in the Sim - prime of life, full health with all the heaven and hell we could want. Booze, drugs, sex, everything and better than real. No nasty side effects like hangovers or paternities. Plus we get to put on heavy metal. Who's luckier than me?
I can't describe the suits, sir. The eggs and regs call them Mission Specialized Mechanized Assault Carriers. Fags. We call them heavy metal.
There's nothing like it. It's like putting on power. I can rain down more terrible pain than all the (censored) ever. I mean we got (censored) with (censored) and (censored) on (censored)! Old Johnny Ron would squirt himself. Our firepower is terrifying. I can literally devastate the entire surface of a (censored)-sized planet in (censored) ticks.
Shit! Almost forgot to tell you. This is crazy shit! Last (censored) I was in (censored) and this Urchin comes with wild-eyed fervor. Craziest little (censored) you ever saw. Something's nagged me about it for long times now. Glad to share it off my chest. So, this (censored) is dragging some mangled (censored) behind him and mumbling about (censored). Sudden like, it grabs me and says (censored). The bols of it is, just the day before I was (censored).
Can you believe that shit? Blown away! What does it all mean?
Anyway, got nothing else really to say. We're going Simming in a few minutes. I wanted to write, sir, and let you know that I'm well. I'm not really sure where they'll send me next or even when I'll be able to write. I always get mail tho. I'd love to hear from you.
Respectfully,
- Tom
SQE: asdlkwoe224weplo43keyuiwfermx535owi567em23xo12wx6ie5ejml8976kaw137ew12e4x09az
### END XM ###
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