About

Hello there my as of yet loyal nonexistent readers. I have already made my first post on this new blog and thought that I should introduce myself and what it is this blog will be about.



My name is Scott Walker, William Walker actually, but we will go with Scott since that is what I have been called since birth, but we will get to that later. I am currently 25 years old, happily married for 1/5^th of my life, do the math, to my wonderful wife, Cari. Our oldest child weighs in at 40lbs, white with black spots and ears and we call him Snoopy. Snoopy is a poi dog, but the gentlest creature you ever met. He happily puts up with his little sister, Eva, putting him in dresses, painting his nails, pulling his ears, and trying to bounce on him. He does not tolerate have his nails cut though. Eva is 3 ½ years old and is the apple of my eye. She is the reason I do what I do. What is that you ask? I work, and I work my ass off.



Ass.



That reminds me, a bit of a disclaimer here. I have a potty mouth, not from bad parenting or a lack of vocabulary. I actually consider cursing a form of art, it takes talent. Anyone can string together what some may call offensive words, but to be able to work them into a conversation and not have a single word said about it takes skill. I got that skill. So, yes you are going to be reading some bad words, so if you do not like that hit the back button and stop reading now.



Now that that is out of the way lets move on. I was raised in southwest Virginia, more specifically the New RiverValley, even more specifically the western end of GilesCounty. I spent my youth outside, unheard of today. I caught snakes and lizards, worms and bugs. No spiders. Piss on a damn spider. I spent every possible second I could in the great New River. I fished, seined, swam, dove, a regular country bumpkin. Not really. See, I was kind of an anomaly in my hometown because instead of spending my non-bumpkin hours watching sports, playing sports, watching cars, fixing cars, I read. I read everything and anything I could get my hands on. Music too. Mom, that’s Michelle to you, got me hooked on rock from a young age. I got in trouble at school for getting into fights when I was picked on, which was a lot, and for goofing off in class. Come to find out I was to smart for my own good. Once this was figured out I was placed in the Gifted program. That’s when the computer bug hit me. 5^th maybe 6^th grade I was exposed to the old Mac computers. We played games, solved puzzles, that kind of thing. I wanted to build them and program them. I did. In the 7^th grade I was already well into HTML, teaching myself from books and going on webpages and viewing he source code. I was also taking Latin classes that year over the satellite in the library. I loved the library. Actually, I loved the books, Tolkien, Lewis, Poe, Anderson, countless others. I devoured the entire Lord of the Rings series, including  The Hobbit and Silmarillion, during my Latin classes. I didn’t pay a damn bit of attention on conjugating verbs and still had straight A’s, hell I even won an award for doing so well on the national latin exam.



The summer between 7^th and 8^th grade, the transition to high school for us, I made life a living hell for my mother. She did the best she could being a, once again, single working mother, but I was blamed for something that for once I didn’t do. Juvy, probation and then on the recommendation of the juvenile probation office, Kelly Glavaris, I started football for the first time in my life. I had to start out weightlifting. I was small for my age, but strong and healthy, and once I started lifting weights I got big and fast. I met Tank that summer. Jackie Evans, which is Tank’s real name changed my life for the better. I have him and Charles Lytton, the 4H extension agent  to thank for that. I am 100% positive that if it were not for those two men and my mother I would have been in jail long ago. I won’t go into how awesome I was at football because I wasn’t that great. I barely play JV. I was on a team with guys who had been playing football since kindergarten and knew what they were doing.



Sometime in that summer I started partaking in an illegal, all natural product that I absolutely believed to be one of the best things ever grown. I excelled in school non the less and went on to vocational school. I have always loved to build things, both with wood and computer parts. I took electronics in 11^th grade, with Tank as my teacher. Went to the state competition that year and placed. My senior year I took the next class which was PC Repair. We did networking and building also. We used to sit in the lab and play games on the school network against each other, Unreal Tournament, Empire Earth, and a couple of others. The system administrator would block us and we would find a way around. There were a few of us who were just to damn good for that mickey mouse shit. I once made all the start buttons at the high school say FUCK instead of START. It was great.



Anyway, I graduated, while wearing nothing under my gown, and gave my hot ass Spanish teacher a big hug while naked. Ahh, nothing between us but a thin layer of fabric. I spent many an adolescent year thinking of that woman, She teached Zumba at the local gym now and she still has it. I digress though. I had applied to several schools, getting into the ones I really wanted, My girlfriend at the time wanted to go to ODU even though her family wanted her to go to VT like the rest of them had. We were in love and going to run away together to ODU and live out our lives. Well I went to ODU and she went to VT. We had went to ODU for a visit and I fell is love with it. The ocean, the city, the distance from home, everything. To this day I can remember the smell of that ocean so fondly. I left Giles county with a couple hundred dollars, saved up from working construction and farm work, my car and my few possessions, books, tools, clothes and other stuff . My car, a Chevy Cavalier, overheated the entire way. Every time I stopped to let it cool down and pour fluids into it I had to untie the piece of rope that held my hood closed. I got to school, started classes, broke it off with my girlfriend, fooled around with some college girls. I drank a lot, smoked a lot, and fucked a lot. The only thing I didn’t do a lot of was sleep or go to my Computer Science classes, although I did sleep in a lot of my classes. I pledged a fraternity, Theta “motherfucking” Chi, and was made a brother with the rest of my Gamma “tittyfucking” Zeta pledge brothers. I made a lot of good friends, did lots of good stuff for the community, but sucked at the rest of this college thing.



I had always wanted to be an United States Marine. I don’t know why I just felt it was my calling. My high school girlfriend, yes the one that went to VT, had convinced me to go to college first and become an officer. Well, the winter of 2005 when all my friends went home to there families I was already withdrawn from school and staying at the fraternity house on Granby street. No heat and no food andNorfolk winters are cold. I was donating plasma and sperm just to get money to eat. I considered my self eclectic pagan at the time, ditching the Wicca religion for something better suited to me, and I ended up in an all black church one Sunday, two hours before the service began. It was warm in there. Being from the small town I was, black folks were almost completely new to me. I was overwhelmed when the service started. I was the only white boy there and probably the only non-Christian. What I was most overwhelmed by though was the sheer generosity of this congregation. They took me in for the day, fed me, talked to me, told me it was going to be ok.



It was.



Not long after this incident I was in the kitchen of the house, freezing my ass off, when I discovered I was out of Ramen Noodles. I was broke. I was hungry. I was tired of this shit. I called a local Marine recruiter. He said we could meet for lunch and that he would come get me and take me to eat. We went to McDonalds. I signed my enlistment papers that evening. When I took the ASVAB I had outstanding scores. When told I could do just about any job they had to offer, and him trying to get me to get into something with computers I said no thanks. I want a combat arms. I don’t want to see a fucking computer for the next four years. Thank you GySgt Fred Spears for that day. I was so excited. I called Mom and said “Hey, I enlisted in the Marine Corps” she said she was proud of me. School started back up and I told the brothers what I had done. They threw me a party. I was in this girls room the early early morning that the recruiter called and said he was waiting outside for me. I laughed at him and asked for a few more minutes. He called back about 30 minutes later and said that was enough get my ass down there. Damn you GySgt Fred Spears. I went to MEPS at Ft. Lee, Virginia and on to Parris Island, SC from there. Second best decision I ever made.



I turned a 3 month boot camp into 6 months, Right around training day 13, the gas chamber, I noticed a lump just below my belt line. I was sent to sick call for it and told it was a pulled muscle. I knew it was more. Had to be. I thought, I have been doing farm work and construction for a long time now. I played football, lifted weights, ran track, and played soccer for the past few years. He was the medical expert though. Dumbass. A few weeks later after our third day of firing week I showed my Drill Instructor what would later be diagnosed as a hernia. I was sent to medical, dropped from training and scheduled for surgery. A simple, routine, everyday surgery. Thousands of people get one and have it repaired. Slice, push, mesh. Not me. I had complications galore, waited for a long time, fought through it with some chemical help and graduated boot camp a Private First Class in the United States Marine Corps.



Camp Devil Dog, North Carolina for Marine Combat Training, then Fort Sill Oklahoma for Field Artillery Cannoner Training, and more surgery. When asked to do our duty station wish list I put down anything but the east coast. Been there, done that. Turned out that an Artillery unit in Hawai’i needed a lot of guys for a deployment. Guess where I got stationed. AAALLLOOOOHHHHAAAAAA. The awesome flight attendant on the plane ride there saw me in uniform and gave me a ton of free booze, underage. She even offered me the mile high club, I should have done it. I got off the plane drunk, expecting to catch a cab to the base and sleep it off. WRONG. The battery 1stSgt, top dog, was there waiting for me and the other guy. I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t get caught.



We hadn’t been there long when we were packed up to go to the big island, Hawai’i. Now by this point I had been around long enough to know that the military is fucked up. Only they would find the only spot in Hawai’i that snows, while sitting on top of a volcano. I was on light duty still, recovering from round two of surgery. When we got back I was seen again and had one more surgery. The unit left for workups, then Iraq. I was left in the rear, with the gear, and the beer. I met Cari not long after that, and not long after that we got married. Oh yeah, I am going to fill in bits of this along the way. It was all real interesting, and by the time I embellish it and blow it out of proportion you are going to love it. We got married March 2, 2007. We got a house with some friends, one of who was, unbeknownst to us, like 15 or some shit, drank and partied a lot, let guys go on deployment, thankfully they all came back. I got promoted to Lance Corporal. I then got sent to the regiment as a broken Marine, they found out I was smart and guess where I got stuck. The company office. I took over the Training NCO position from a dumbass Corporal who had not one clue what he was doing. I met some people, made contacts and friends. I was the most powerful LCpl in the regiment, I could walk into the Colonels office as needed. People asked for favors, I got favors in return. I’ll explain later. The one time I didn’t want to go to the big man’s office I went. Got my ass chewed. Then again. Again. Again and on down the line. I had made a big move. It ended just the way I wanted, I was going on deployment. Not only was I going, but I was going as a member of an elite group of Marines who were vital to the effort. That is a whole new story though. Skipping ahead.



Sort of. Not long after I find out I will be going to Afghanistan, I also find out that Cari is pregnant with Eva. Wow, talk about timing. She went momma on me, even tried to make me sell my Jeep. Nope not happening. Not yet at least. I went through all the training for the deployment. I was psyched and pumped up. Then on November 1^st of 2008 my beautiful little girl was born. I didn’t want to go on this deployment. The very same one I possibly killed my career for, worked my ass off for, and I didn’t want to go.



I went.

I came back



I got out of the Marines and started school again. I was accepted into Hawai’i Pacific University in the BS of Nursing program. Don’t worry it will make since later. I started working at Borders Bookstore. I doted over my little girl. Then times got hard. Then harder. We gave up almost everything we had, sold or donated and in December of 2010 Cari and Eva flew to Virginia to my Mom and Dad’s house. I tied up some loose ends in Hawai’i and then me and Snoopy followed. We pick up the car in San Diego and drove cross-country to Virginia. I was once again reunited with my wonderful little family. It was the second time that my parents had seen Eva and they spoiled the shit out of her. Cari had a temp job at Wal-Mart. I got a job at a gas station. If it were not for Mom and Dad we would not have made it. I quit the gas station when my old employer gave me a job building fence and mowing grass. That turned into a construction job. That turned into a construction foreman job, That turned into a nightmare.



That is where I am currently at more or less. Cari and Eva moved to Ohio on May 3 and at the end of June I will be going with them. Half the time I don’t know what I am doing with this thing called life. I know where I want to go and I have a half ass idea of how to get there. Just like this blog though, I’ll fill in the details later.



I can be a bit of a hard ass especially to myself. I am opinionated most of the time. Stubborn all of the time. Some might call me cruel because I don’t like fat people. I don’t hate the person. I hate the fat. If you are thin-skinned and/or get butthurt easily, don’t read this. If you value other opinions, interesting stories, and good intelligent debate stay tuned. As far as comments, I could care less if it is politically correct. I will, however, not tolerate rude behavior in a man (Tommy Lee Jones in Lonesome Dove is my hero). No racist, sexist, anti-relgion-of-one-kind-or-another-ism, or general bashing, By all means curse, argue, bicker, bitch, just do it intelligently. Oh, and if you cannot write/spell like you made it passed the 6^th grade I will delete your comment in a fucking heartbeat. Pet peeve of mine.