This show. This fucking show. 



RayRay’s & Colbert’s Words of Wisdom

Person: Oh, no. Christ-lover at my 9.
Colbert: Coming this way?
Person: Yeah, ETA is like 10 seconds.
Colbert: … gotta deal with this, too.
Chaplain: Men, I’m holding a service and I wonder if you would take comfort in pausing for a word of prayer.
Person: Oh, no, thank you Lt. Commander. We got the warning order so it looks like we’re gonna be moving out to kill a whole bunch more of these godless heathens for you. Yeah, but don’t worry; we will not rest until the Iraqi threat to your way of worship has been completely neutralized.
Chaplain: I’m aware of the warning order and it is for that reason that we are congregating right now for a brief service of-
Person: The other thing is that my team leader here, Sergeant Colbert, yeah, he was born a Hebrew and remains a practicing Christ-killer. So, it’s purelyout of respect for him I feel as if I’m gonna have to forgo your festive rituals.

Trombley: I dunno why you guys are down on this shit. I’m a Christian.
Colbert: Theologically speaking, Trombley, the world’s been going downhill ever since man first offered entrails to the gods.
Trombley: What’s that mean? Entrails?
Person: That religion is gay.
Colbert: The point, Lance Corporal: we’re supposed to be a recon unit of pure warrior spirit. We’re out here, 40 clicks in enemy lines, and this man of God here, he’s a fucking POG. In fact, he’s an officer POG. That’s one more layer of bureaucracy and unnecessary logistics, one more asshole we need to supply MREs and baby wipes for. And worst of all, worst of all, the motherfucker doesn’t even carry a weapon. When push comes to shove even Rolling Stone picks up a gun but this fucking shill of God, he can’t cover a sector, he’ll never hump ammo or Claymores. This is a fucking war and we’re here as warriors, so on top of everything else that’s expected of us do we really need to drag him along and indulge in this make-believe bullshit?
Person: Oh, no. Now not only do we have to worry about all the Charms you’ve eaten, but now Brad’s just pissed off God.

(via fuzzyrush)

There’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody’s asleep.
I say, I know that you’re there,
so don’t be
then I put him back,
but he’s singing a little
in there, I haven’t quite let him
and we sleep together like
with our
secret pact
and it’s nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don’t
weep, do

Charles Buskowski, from “Bluebird”

From The Last Night of the Earth Poems

(via liquidnight)