This was found on a Site by screen name Vegas Rider and was sent to me ...just thought it should be shared..no offense intended,if taken...take abreath and read it again..lol Bob this ones for you..
O.K. you salty dogs - can you understand all of this?
ARE YOU REGULAR NAVY?
Willy and me were lollygagging by the scuttlebutt after being aloft to boy-butter up the antennas and were just perched on a bollard eyeballing a couple of bilge rats and flangeheads using crescent hammers to pack monkeyshit around a fitting on a handybilly.
All of a sudden the dicksmith started hard-assing one of the deck apes for lifting his pogey bait. The pecker-checker was a sewer pipe sailor and the deckape was a gator. Maybe being black shoes on a bird farm surrounded by a
gaggle of cans didn't set right with either of those gobs.
The deck ape ran through the nearest hatch and dogged it tight because he knew the peeniss machinist was going to lay below, catch him between decks and punch him in the snot locker. He'd probably wind up on the binnacle list but
Doc would find a way to gundeck the paper or give it the deep six to keep himself aboveboard.
We heard the skivvywaver announce over the beeyotch box that the breadburners had creamed foreskins on toast and SOS ready on the mess decks, so we cut and run to avoid the clusterscrew when the twidgets and cannon cockers knew chow was on.
We were balls to the wall for the barn and everyone was preparing to hit the beach as soon as we doubled-up and threw the brow over. I had a ditty bag full of fufu juice that I was gonna spread on thick for the bar hogs with those sweet bosnias. Sure beats the hell out of brown bagging. Might even hit the Acey-Deucy club and try to hook up with a WESTPAC widow. They were always leaving snail trails on the dance floor on amateur night.