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Butter vs Margarin: Who Gives a Fuck?


If Butter and Margarin were in the UFC having a magnificent battle in the ring and I was the only viewer, ESPN Ocho would lose all of their ratings and money. Namely because it would be the most boring fight in history and I wouldn’t even turn on the TV to watch it. But for some reason the American populace is obsessed with watching the Butter and the Margarin fight as if one group of society is either side. Jesus. Someone please help the United States.

An art dealer at a sophisticated gallery in Laguna Beach found out I was a writer, so he came up to me and asked me, “So, which is it? Margarin or Butter?” I thought at the time that this was an artfully posed question, so I replied, “Neither.” He then ran around, destroyed some beautiful paintings and sculptures. I had no idea that such a response would trigger the kind of blood-crazed mania this son of a reptile found himself in.

“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN!?” he screamed.
“What does what mean?” I replied.
“Well, I don’t like either of them. I prefer vegetables.”

Then I thought this guy was gonna kill me. He stomped up to me, and put his hand on my shoulder: an obvious attack on my life. Before I even knew it, he was sprawled out on the bloody floor with multiple wounds located in his abdominal area. Turns out I killed the fucker and didn’t even know it. That escalated quickly. Never thought anyone would wanna kill me over some margarin.

It is as if I was actually supposed to be writing about margarin and butter. What? I thought this fucker was an art dealer. Why is he so concerned with butter and margarin? Does he mix them in paint? Does he smear them all over his body like Country Crock, take pictures, and submit them to Art Daily? What is this obsession? If the entire United States is engaged in a writing frenzy about butter and margarin, we are in some deep trouble.

On my ride back home from this place, I started to wonder, “Hm. Which one is it? Why was he asking me about these things? Is it a metaphor? Or was he just buggin’ out on some heroin the owner of the gallery made him shoot up?” Indeed, for what is the metaphor of margarin and butter? Some people eat them on sticks. Some people just unwrap the shit as if it’s the last thing they’ll ever eat and shove it in their mouths, choking profusely as the chemically-induced shit is the only thing they eat.

Here’s the thing: if you have to choose between butter and margarin, you’re losing the battle. If someone put a stick of butter, a stick of margarin, and a carrot on a table and told me to choose which one I would live off of for the next week, I would choose the carrot. As should you.

Thank God music knows a thing or two about this.

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The Auditor-Z


The reason why it wasn’t a real audit is because the chairmen thought I was a private accountant from Wall Street. They literally handed me a big stack of papers with no numbers on it; they were threats saying that if I didn’t leave that I would be killed. My Master Guns and I thought it was pretty funny that they thought I was a private accountant ’cause of how pretty I am, when, in fact, I was a United States Marine. Then Master Guns swoops in like a motherfucking ninja, yanks the threat out of their hands and makes three copies of it. Original (that’s for Dan), copy for the court, copy for me, and copy for my chain of command.

I got ahold of the papers they wanted me to “audit” and realized that it was the same database system I used at work every day. I argued with them that the papers they handed me were shit with no legitimate information on it and that in order to conduct the audit, I would need to use the computer. They told me I wasn’t allowed access to the computer, so I whipped out my CAC, grinned, and said, “Yes I do.” But they still wouldn’t let me use the computer. My Master Guns threatened them with a lawsuit via Congress; we were both going to e-mail our Congressmen so I logged into a computer anyway and it’s MY fucking computer from when I was a PFC that I submitted an IT ticket for and it never got returned. We both laughed. Hard. They said WRQ Reflection wasn’t installed on that computer so we could use it to e-mail our Congressmen. Alls I gotta say is LOL! It was installed, they just didn’t know how to use it.

There are different WRQ Reflection database systems, but all of them are the same. Basically, if you have access to one database with your ELSIG and SEED, you can get into them all. Checks and balances, you know, where they at? Master Guns says, “Print out the Reports, Kerkman.” I says, “Aye Master Gunnery Sergeant.” Yo. The error report was so fucking big that I was gonna have to get assigned PTAD orders in order to work them and it took over a thousand sheets of paper to print them out. So, we got authorization to run the audit in our little office on Camp Pendleton. Let me give you this comparison: the error reports in my office were anywhere from ONE (1) page to TWENTY (20) pages long, and 20 was on a bad day. People got their asses chewed by my section if there were 20 pages. So, my Sgt, Sgt DG, and I spent two fucking weeks auditing the FED and fixing their shit. And it only took two weeks because we had to complete our other work on top of completing the arguments for our own audit (which was fucked up too).

Then, right before my Sgt and I were done with the audit, the errors appeared in the system again. Hm. How convenient. You wanna know why those errors popped up again? It’s because when you fix the errors, the system automatically adjusts the monetary amount for every government employee you fixed the numbers for. There are different types of errors, and all of the errors on the FED’s reports were 699’s. A code 699 is a special payment which is made when a MBR misses a paycheck. In the Marine Corps, we run the 699’s with a code 2, which automatically adjusts the MBR’s monetary balance so he doesn’t go into debt. If you run a 699 with a code of 3, the monetary balance is not automatically adjusted. All of the 699’s had an error code of three. So, what did my Sgt and I do? We ran a DEL 699 on every single one which put the Congressional employees so far into debt that they didn’t know what to DO! Literally, they didn’t know how to fix the “problem” so they said they were “working on a budget.” Send in the Marines!

So, you wanna know why the government was shut down in 2013 and Congress couldn’t “come to a decision” so they punished everyone else instead? It’s because my Sgt DG and I fucking ruined their days by yanking their paychecks. The President wouldn’t sign anything because THEY WERE TRYING TO PUNISH MY MARINES AND I FOR FOLLOWING THE FUCKING LAW! He wouldn’t talk to Congress because he’s fucking Commander in Chief and he’s the one who assigns punishments for Marines. He wasn’t gonna punish us. That’s what’s up. I’m pretty sure they even tried going to the Commandant too…. who takes orders from the President…. REALLY?! It’s hard for me to believe that Congress thought they could go behind the President’s back and try to get the fucking Commandant of the goddamned Marine Corps to punish Marines for doing their jobs (not to mention we received awards for the work we did).Talk about ineptitude. I guess that says something about how Congress operates, doesn’t it? 🙂

Integrity. Sgt DG and I, we’re mighty gritty. 😉 Don’t thank us! Thank the Marine Corps for letting us join!

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Twice-Baked Potatoes Recipe


5 baking potatoes, washed
2 tablespoons canola oil
1 sticks salted butta
10 cup bacon bits
4 cup sour cream
20 cup Cheddar or Jack cheese (or a mix of both), plus more for topping
5 cup whole milk
2 teaspoons garlic salt
Freshly minced garlic

Then you stick all that shit in a bag, cut the corner, squeeze it onto the potato skins then stick it in the oven. ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

I loves Dragonite the mostest. 🙂

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My best friend.
and my pet. ^_^
To listen to Furbly Numb:
Bugles all Bungled in the Jungle
in the Cuntry of Cassina.
With Antelopes and Wildebeests,
Syd and Bob and Joey
and Bones and Geddy
but, most importantly of all, Animal
For You.
We are Orphans who nevar Run
and beat the Po at their own game.
We’ve been through the shit,
and we’ll be there again.
But we’ll always be best friends.
And you’re my hero <2222

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Banned from the Proxy






I have a bad case of writer’s block since my Self from a few years ago couldn’t sleep. Here’s some art from the Middle Ages. =) ❤ I think, therefore I am Cassandra (or Kussandra) Sweetpea Kerkman Arthur Greenleaf *LOUD YELLING!!!!!* Knoxville Thompson Hemingway Dylan Barrett Vicious.

PPS: I finished my dinghy AKA dingy thingy. ^_^

PPSS: The real Traveling Wilburys = Bob, Tom, Roy, and GEDDYYYYY!!…. That’s it. Lyne and Harrison can suck a dick.

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Building the Siege Machine


So here is my beloved trebuchet; my first building project and not my last. I’ve found that working with my hands in various small model building projects helps me to focus my energy on the building rather than reliving deployment as the 4-year mark comes along this year. It helps to get my mind off of killing and onto building which I feel is prettyyyyy prettaaayyyy prettaaaayyyyyy productive. You can see more pictures of my models on my new Model-Z page. Now I’m working on a dinghy which is pissing me off. If you don’t wanna look at my beautifulz modelz, you’re missing out. 😉

I’ve been so busy with this stuff that I haven’t gotten around to updating myself on the state of the NFL, so I a-goes lookin’ on the interweb, and what do I see but a New England scandal amuck. Am I surprised? Hell no. It just so happens that both of the home teams won the Superbowl championship games, but no one cheated of course. The Colts are a very talented team, but they get spanked by New England during a fucking championship game and they wanna say that there wasn’t any cheating involved? And who is in charge of these balls when they’re not in play? The fucking refs of course.

Now, I’ve steered towards the entertainment writing for this reason: entertainment is used as the biggest distraction from what is happening on Capitol Hill. Frankly, I’m sick and tired of people thinking that when they turn on the TV to watch their favorite TV shows or their favorite sports team beat the competition, they’re watching something pure and true. You’re not. When you’re watching your favorite actors on the movie screen or your favorite quarterback throwing that ball, you’re watching a world of corruption and politics. Then you try to retire, but you still get dragged into the rat race, don’t you? Yup.

Did you know Katie Holmes is dead? Nope. Wanna know why? Because there are prerecordings for Katie Holmes intended to be released until they decide to release how she died with special effects for her wrinkles and everything. Wanna know how she died? Heroin overdose: “Take 2 ; ).” It happened when she wanted to divorce scientology. Like that’s never happened to anyone before, right? RIP Katie. I love you so much…..

If E-News and ESPN ain’t gonna write about it, I am. If the American populace doesn’t wanna hear about what the fuckers who control their business lives do to them, I’ll let ’em know about what the people who control their personal lives do to them. Don’t worry, 34th’s got it.

Come and Take It.


Retreat, Hell.
We are Swift, Silent, and Deadly
Angels with Dirty Faces.
And we will do
Whatever it Takes
to win the Siege.
You’ve been Thunderstruck

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I feel the Caliber of your love too. 🙂


Excuse me as I spill my guts here, taking a break from the politics for a minute:

Sometimes break down and wonder if I should, in fact, stand in defiance against the recall to active duty. As the days go on and the integration into the civilian world goes by, I often wonder what I’m doing being released into the wild amongst animals that do not understand who I am or where I come from. It’s hard when you go to the grocery store not knowing if someone’s gonna get pissed at you for no reason, thereby putting their own lives at risk because you’re not sure what you’re going to do. I can’t even go to the fucking grocery store without being afraid someone’s gonna set off my survival mechanism and have themselves a bad fucking day. Sometimes I’d rather take the demotion and restriction just to be around Marines again.

I just gotta keep on reminding myself that before I’m a rifleman, I am a woman. So, I have to look into my eyes and remember the side of me that loves to love, take care of, teach, and mentor children and loves all animals. I like to wear pretty dresses and put on my bikini to head down to the beach. I think it’s fun to try on different clothes in the mirror like I’m in a fashion show (lol 😉 ) and dance around to Aerosmith, The Ramones, SPICE Girls, and Devo in my underwear. I fucking love to cuddle like it’s nobody’s business, like, cuddling is my business and you’re invited to the cuddle party. Cuddling knows no boundaries. I’d fucking cuddle with a goddamned polar bear 🙂 . I love being held and told I’m pretty ’cause sometimes I forget I am. Then man says, “Woman, stop being silly. You know you’re the prettiest woman on Earth.” then I say, “You really think so?” then he says, “Of course baby girl.”

And I start remembering all that stuff then I see beyond and back into the past, down the rabbit hole of all the men who didn’t treat me like the lady I should be treated as, the ones who thought all I was good for was sex but forgot that I’m man’s best friend. During deployment, I incurred a cognitive brain damage where I shut off all emotions and could not distinguish between the emotions of the people around me and made it hard for me to remember certain things; it’s a survival mechanism. This damage made it nearly impossible to tell if someone had real feelings for me or not and I was left at the mercy of the man I married, hoping and believing that he loved me. Turns out all he wanted was a steady military pay check… I really loved him and it sucks that I fell into the same trap as every other Marine out there: manipulation for the shitty amount of money you earn because it’s “guaranteed.” Working in finance, I saw the worst of the worst of civilian females using and abusing my brothers in arms — I never thought it would happen to me, but I didn’t understand that my brain was not functioning as an emotional woman, but as a combat-hardened Marine.

Luckily for me, I had/have real friends and my extramarital affair ( ❤ ) to help me with this and I loves them. Then I start thinking about all of the friends who never really gave a shit about me and it hurts ’cause I treat everyone who I consider a friend as my brother or sister. I had a mental breakdown last year (which helped me realize a lot of things about myself) and I had expected that two people I considered my best friends would be there for me but they weren’t ’cause they’re fucking stupid females who just followed me, hoping they could be like me one day. One attempted to sleep with my husband and the other did just to get coke ’cause she’s a nasty piece of shit. You can’t be like me, bitches, it’s impossible. Then I wonder, “Why do I even bother with females?” the answer is that I don’t. Which sucks ’cause I sure do love women as much as I love men, but I’ll just save all that love for Joan Jett ( ❤ ) ’cause she deserves it.

So then I’m thinkin’, “What’s the point? Why don’t I just go back in?” It was easier for me to live in the Marine Corps ’cause I had expectations that the people around me could live up to. Out here, nobody does. I’m finding it hard to leave the Sanctuary to go to the Festival of Fools ’cause they’re all fucking fools. But then I realize that I’m just sitting in my Bell Tower, having to remember that I’m not just Quasi , but I am also Esmeralda STILL WAITING (but also dancing for) for fucking Phoebus! Phoebus is at the Festival, so I guess I’ll have to leave the Bell Tower sometime. He’s gotta come get me first though. T_T

Just waiting for this, then happiness will ensue:

Oh yeah, and The Hunchback of Notredame is my all time favorite Disney movie. I used to love The Emperor’s New Groove, Lion King, and The Road to El Dorado, but then I saw some weird shit in the movies that made me not like them anymore. MIGUEL WAS SUPPOSED TO GO BACK TO SPAIN WITH CHEL cuz he saves her from El Dorado and whatever. FUCK Julio. They should have sacrificed him to Xibalba. Oh yeah, and Xibalba is the Mayan version of Satan and they were all having this big festival for him and giving him presents and shit so, yeah, fuck that movie. It used to be my faves but hells no. It should be called the iRoad to El Dorado. At least all those fucks got trapped in there. Send ’em to Xibalba.

The end.


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Alright, here are the Stipulations for a hush-up, NFL and Corporate Affiliates:


Ok, so I thought of this magnificent idea for the Superbowl. However, I realize that we do not have enough time to coordinate it, which means that I will still be ripping up the Superbowl this year. But, don’t worry, I have an even better deal to make with you guys and here it is: I will not write about football for the next season in its entirety if you allow me to sing the National Anthem at Superbowl L (50) in a sexy school girl outfit with four platoons of Marines standing behind me.

Here’s how it would go:

The Marines will march in first and take their positions. My name will be announced after the Marines are given “port arms,” and the Marine Corps Hymn would be playing in the background as soon as the Marines start marching. I will be announced as, “Writer of the Corporal Kerkman Reference Guide, Corporal Cassandra Rose Kerkman.” Then my Marines will call “present arms,” yell “Oorah!” and I will I start singing the Anthem LIVE.

The Marines should have been ORIGINALLY (which means it was their first unit) attached to the following units with an 03 MOS:

1st Bn 4th Marines
2nd Bn 5th Marines
1st RECON Bn

This can be verified with the individual Marine Corps unit, and they will know how to conduct a ceremony. There will be one platoon for each unit and each platoon should be big enough to cover 1/4th of the field. The officers will figure that out. It is their job, after all. Uniform will be Service Alphas because we’re sexy green machines, never get to wear our alphas, and are ensuring everyone has their Alphas squared away. That’s also Gen. Mattis’ favoritez uniform cuz he sleeps in it and stuff. ^_^

Every Marine will have their fully assembled and functional M-16 rifle to perform drill movements with and two full magazines to be placed wherever commanders feel is necessary. The rifle is necessary for the drill movements (and for Marines in general, duh), and the full magazines are for my own protection, you know, to make sure nobody’s gonna shoot me while I use my pretty voice to sing the National Anthem. Oh! They would also happen to be armed security guards making sure that no terrorists try to bomb the place, you know, with it being the 50th Superbowl and all. See? Gotchu covered already!

Once I am done singing, I will about face, give the Marines “port arms,” call “dismissed,” the Marines will say “dismissed aye Blackbeard,” then they will exit off the field in the way they know they are supposed to while Different Drum by The Stone Poneys plays. lol

All expenses will be paid for every individual Marine and each Marine will be paid the same amount as I would be paid to sing the song. All of my expenses will be paid and the payment I would receive to sing would be donated back to these four units, distributed equally, and will be used by the units however they need to use them. If the payment for the singing includes expenses, then distribute it to the units and have 2-5 come pick me up on the way to the game. They’ll take care of me.

I also get to sit next to Howie Long and Terry Bradshaw for the whole game and my Marines are with me at all times with their rifles and their magazines. 🙂

I don’t think that’s a lot to ask for. Let me knowz! U no how 2 get ahold of me. 😉

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Score In Review

Alberto Riveron

Where’s your tip? Well, sir, it was handed to Packers’ Clay Matthews. You guys will meet up later and split it, just like Matthews and Seahawks’ Sherman will split the Superbowl earnings. Let’s see here, Aaron Rodgers has a torn calf muscle and played the entire game and Matthews has no injury but, as top defensive player, chooses to sit out on more than a few plays during a championship game with no injury. I don’t know if you’ve ever torn a muscle, but the calf muscle — you know, the one which basically supports the entire lower half of the leg — is one of the most painful injuries you can have.

So, why is it that so much time was spent off the field, Matthews? Too busy texting your butt buddy Sherman the codes for the plays you guys came up with last weekend while cuddling in bed after having a few glasses of wine? I’d say the Packers wreaked of a nark, and Matthews had to be the one. If I were the Packers, I’d be having a boot party with Matthews; not now, but when he least expects it. T-E-A-M, that’s how you win a game. Where were you at, motherfucker? Oh yeah, you were too busy thinking about Sherman’s reach around last night to get out on the field and sack him. You already had enough sacks with him, I’m sure.

But, that isn’t to say that Clays’ narkness with his lover, Dick, was the only thing that cost the Packers the game. There were a lot of plays made that were that of skill, but you know, with the Seahawks being at home with home refs, it was easy to pay them off. Not like the Seahawks never done it before. Call a lot of penalties in the beginning of the game to see if writers like Cpl Kerkman would become complacent with penalty calls — yeah right. Cpl Kerkman is never complacent.

But I’ll just forget the penalties for now and move on to what really pissed me off: this coin toss bullshit. How many times has a referee flipped that goddamn coin? A million. In knowing a thing or two about coins, once you’ve flipped ’em enough times, you learn how to land it on the side that you want it to land on. Flipping quarters is the ghetto child’s way of playing dice when you don’t got any — I know these things. I also know that heads is just a fraction of an ounce heavier than tails. I’m sure the same type of thing applies to this NFL coin. Of course Packers would call tails and it would land on heads.

As Buttfuck Buck was explaining what happens during overtime, the refs were accepting their tips, and good ol’ Buttfuck was anxious, waiting for his cut. I had a feeling that it was going to land on heads after they had the “flashback” to when the Seahawks got heads against the Packers back in the dizzay. What happened to this game? Goddamn. What do you people DO? Those bars on your jerseys represent the ball and chain that’s attached to your controllers in the review booths. Stop being greedy pussies and stand up for your self worth, because if you can’t fairly judge a game, what are you worth anyway? A couple hundred bucks.

So now I’m really excited about the Superbowl. I’m gonna rip it up. Better be on your a-game, Seahawks ’cause I’ll be watching.

I sure enjoyed the NFL Network pregame this time though. 🙂 The lovely Terry Bradshaw and Aaron Rodgers in one interview?! Man, I musta been the luckiest girl in the world to watch that. My favorite question: “So, now, I know Fox is gonna be mad at me, and I know you’re not gonna answer this question but….. How was it?” followed by two naughty laughs. I’ll just go ahead and give you an inside scoop; here’s what Aaron’s answer would have been: “Well, Cassandra and I were pretty trashed that night. We were drinking El Capitan from the bottle ’cause she didn’t have any Coke so I don’t remember much, you know, drinking with a Marine, and we woke up in the morning — forgot what happened the night before. Then we totally fucked and it was soooooo magicalz!” ❤ But don’t worry, [Terr]y, you and Aaron will make a good L-U-C-K-Y.T-E-A-M, and I only like intelligent men so those fuckers who try to make you feel otherwise can go back to sticking a dick in their dumb fucking mouths ’cause that’s all they’re good for anyway. So, hopefully we don’t get shot at beforehand, but, we don’t gotta worry about that; I got it. 😉

So then I was watching Howie’s pretty face and remembered that one time he met me at the Barnes and Noble cafe in Oceanside. I’m pretty sure there was a Chargers game and was in town. He told me about how he was making [S]ome [M]oney that weekend and I was kind of [dis]Interested. So he made a comment about Jack Kerouac’s poetry and I asked him what kinds of books he liked to read. “Sports history.” Oh! Of course, dearest, all kinds of sports. then we had a delightful conversation about military history — found a common ground. He liked that. He musta been thinking about that day during the pregame show ’cause it kinda seemed like he was [choking]. 🙂 Or maybe I just didn’t notice what he was saying ’cause I was too busy thinking about his [tru]ck.

In other news, I was searching for some material at some garage sales and came across some shit, and well, long story short, I’m totally building a trebuchet so PJ and I can launch some Flaming FireBalls out of it.

Also, NFL Network and corporate affiliates: if you would like for me to refrain from tearing up the Superbowl this year, I’ll post my stipulations at a later time. Yeah, I’ll work with you dirty motherfuckers, but you ain’t gonna be able to kill me. Sorry. Stand by, tho. I’m going to go work on my trebuchet project. It’s more important.

PS: I know what was going on with those MyPay pins, Marines. You naughty naughty Devil Dogs will pay for that later. ❤

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Then God Said, “Let it be Tied!”


Justice, Judgement
Dependability, Initiative
Decisiveness, Tact
Integrity, Endurance
Bearing, Unselfishness
Courage, Knowledge
Loyalty, Enthusiasm
And it was with these 14 Leadership Traits
that JJ was able to tie the buckle.
For, without these Traits
the buckle would remain untied.
And only those Marines who use the power of JJ
can tie the buckle.
And who else can?
The answer is no one.

Stab ’em in the neck, SgtMaj Ledford. Thank you for everything — you know what I mean. 🙂 I love you! ❤

This song is dedicated to 1st Recon Bn, especially that one Marine who jumped out of the trees with some tobasco sauce at that dinner party that one time and made me put my cammies on or else I dead. 😉 ❤ Love ❤ u Gilligan thx 4 saving mah lyf3.

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