Ever since Sgt. Armstrong got too fat to pass his PT tests, he got promoted to desk pilot.

That night we requisitioned a ranch house and all got drunk and Johnny did this dance with his tie around his neck lolling his head on one side and letting his tongue fall out and wriggled his ass and dropped his pants and his cock flipped out and the soldiers rolled around laughing till they pissed all over themselves—Then they rigged up a harness under his arms and hoisted him up off the floor to a beam and gang-fucked him—By the time we got to Monterrey there was Spaniards around in armor like a costume movie and again we were lucky to arrive just at the right time.

The Navy assumed responsibility for escorting the reflagged tankers in the Gulf and through the perilous Strait of Hormuz...

This book differs in focus, argument, and method from other available studies on postcommunist Russia.