Going Postal

I might have neglected to mention that once I got here to Afghanistan, the job I was supposed to go and do was changed to the one I’m now actually doing. Overall this is a big win for Rants because it’s the difference between prison sex every day (job planned) and merely having my nuts hammered flat daily (job being performed).

One of the aspects of what I’m now doing is to know virtually everything. As the de facto second in command of my organization, you never know what you’ll need to know. Today I was reviewing postal regulations, particularly those things that can be shipped and those that cannot. Some make perfect sense, such as explosives, shit that will rot, actual Army equipment like weapons, ammunition and so on.

However, like everything else in my life, there were some items on the ‘prohibited’ list that I had to ask myself, “What… the… fuck… they really have to prohibit this?” A sampling of the prohibited smorgasbord:

Animal Fighting Accessories – And here I thought I could get into rooster fighting. The depth of my disappointment knows no bounds.

Live or Dead Animals – Really? This asses me up beyond words because I’ll miss the chance to add to my camel collection since I don’t have many of the one-hump type that run around all over the place down south over here.

Rocks – You’re kidding. Now I want to walk into the post office with a rock and insist… “But what if I wash it really, really well?” “No?” “But this is my favorite one!”

Human Remains – WTF!?! They had to actually state this one? I am about the sickest fucker I know, and I’d never want to mail body parts to myself. Maybe to others, but not myself. The implication here, in case you missed it, is that at some point some genius actually tried to do this.

Flea Collars – Damn. I am so fucked. This puts the phrase “it was an irritating experience” into a whole new perspective for this deployment.

Mercury Thermometers – Okay Mr. Postmaster, how am I supposed to keep track of my rectal temperature each hour in that case? Riddle me that one,  BatmailMan.

Scuba Tanks – I thought I’d gotten a steal buying them in the middle of a land-locked arid country. Guess the joke was on me.

Alternately, I did note that while I cannot ship home machine guns, rifles, ammunition and other accessories of war, it is perfectly acceptable to send home bows, arrows and spears. There is clearly a technology cut-off at work here. At least I’ll be prepared for the post-apocalyptic world.

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20 Responses to “Going Postal”

  1. But the box for the bow and arrows will be over-sized, so *that’ll cost you* …
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    an arm and a leg!

  2. But we could mail you a live person?!?! Or maybe you could mail yourself home?

  3. whiteladyinthehood Says:

    Well, dang…scratch the request I sent for the cock fighting cage, the rescue goat and the flea collars…damn – I so wanted the flea collars….

  4. thanks for friendship have a good day;;;dot

  5. You know, you could get them on that rock thing. After all, for those of us old enough to remember them, how can they deny an owner the right so send home his beloved pet rock? Or are they just trying to make it harder for you to get stoned through the mail? Personally, I think the Army is taking you for granite….

  6. “asses me up beyond words”
    This phrase says frustration so perfectly, I’m speechless – fortunately I could still typed this.

  7. Great post, as per usual. As a Canadian postal worker i have things to add:
    body parts: some sick fucker in Quebec actually did mail body parts of his victim to various places in Canada, including parliament and a school.
    rock: rocks, no? Well I’m surprised since I have had to deliver such light weight things like fridges, barbells, toilets… I’d be happy with a rock.
    live animals: we actually deliver live (mostly) chicks, it is disgusting and vile practice.
    guns: I have delivered them too, to a gun store. ick
    And yes, I have been known to go postal and have threatened to mount an uzzie to the hood of my truck. Just saying.

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