Falc,
I need a cold one. Now.
:: Grabs birdie by the bum ::
smacks Chief’s arm
Go get it yourself, sailorboy.
smacks Southern on the arm as well
Wonderful. Then you can grab me a cold one as well. I prefer Killian’s.
Somebody’s gettin’ short sheeted at the Marriott! And see if I buy the first round for everyone now!
You better apologize profusely, birdie, and skiddadle into the kitchen and bring me back a lager toot sweet!
Ya don’t want 18 thirsty Dopers remembering next week that the Chief would’ve bought them all their first drinks if you’d only submitted to me.
Chief hon…I was gonna buy first round. So yer threat’s not really working.
You can still buy second. But if you think I’m gonna go get you a beer because you told me to…you better think again, sailorboy. sits back, relaxing in chair
Oh, and another thing…
TOLD YOU I wasn’t easily tamed!
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
::Grumble grumble::
Defend the damn country for six months. Don’t even get to see an available woman let alone screw one. 120 degree heat. No port call in more than 2 weeks. Less thn 150 miles from home ad gotta spend yet another night out here at sea. My son’s already in Norfolk waiting for me.
And all I ask for is a lousy beer.
What do I get?
Attitude.
Thanks a lot.
16 hours to go!
Still no beer.
Not even one in the offing.
Oh FINE.
brings ChiefScott a beer. Without using her hands.
Better now, Scott?
Slipping in again, purplebear quietly hands the Chief a long, tall cold one <no jokes, guys!> and then hands one to SS as well.
See, this way, Falcon won’t have to serve you, and you’ll still be guessing as to her intentions…
<I mean, after all, us women have to stick together, don’t we?>
And, Chief, don’t forget I’m married, and Mr Bear has access to Nukes too! I’ll have to pass on the ‘offer’ I’m afraid. 
You shoulda posted that picture on the SD People Pages.
Welcome back ChiefScott. I know how it can be waiting to get off the damn boat but the last time I did I had to wait until the E-5s got to go. Two weeks with no port call? You poor baby! Rofl. Goddamn '83 ranger cruise had more than 17 weeks between port calls.
Too late, bear. She’s been broken.
Thanks, Falc. I didn’t know you could use those lovelies as a beer coozy too! Now get upstairs and get naked. I’ll be up when I finish my brew!
Gentlemen of the Message Board, please note:
Guilt can be your strongest weapon when properly and sparingly implemented.
This lesson brought to you by the Chief.
15 1/4 hours!
knocks beer out of Chief’s hand, spilling it
No hon. You’ll come up NOW. Got it? smiles, then thinks…she’s broken, my ass…
Too late.
You already got one and handed it to me… er, breasted it to me.
At nine p.m. eastern daylight time –
13 hours to go!!!
And Falcon’s a beaten woman!
And that proves WHAT exactly, hon? That you can guilt-trip me?
Now get moving, sailor. smacks Chief on the butt
Four flipping hours to go!!
Maneuvering to enter the Chesapeake shipping channel.
Three freakin’ hours!!
Is there anyone wanting to celebrate w/me?
<tosses copious quantities of confetti>
Welcome home, Chief!
sheesh, sailors… hehehehe
Two hours!!!
About to cross over the Bay Bridge-Tunnel!