I was born in 1965. Nam was over before I got my first pubes. I'd've gone. I'm not saying I'd've been a good soldier. I'd've sucked -- but I'd've gone. And died. It probably sounds like bragging but it's not. I know how I'd've died, some dumb way like stepping on a mine. Entrails dragging in a rice paddy. All the cool dudes in the squad laughing at me, listening to Hendrix, passing around a joint while I bled out. But I wouldn't've spent the war hiding out at Loyola Maryland.
That's the worst part: Maryland! The stupid **** didn't even have the sense to buy a van and head for SF and the hippie chicks like the smart draftdodgers all did. He spent the sixties studying accounting. So he's not just chicken****, he's stupid.
That's the worst part: Maryland! The stupid **** didn't even have the sense to buy a van and head for SF and the hippie chicks like the smart draftdodgers all did. He spent the sixties studying accounting. So he's not just chicken****, he's stupid.

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