  Here are some of the questions I was expecting to receive pertaining to this weblog: How do I log on? Can I post pictures? What is your favorite kind of cheese? Here is the question that I got, over and over again: Who invited Pelar? Well, it goes like this: It was a dark and stormy night. Pelar calls me and says he needs a place to stay for a week or so -- he has TAD orders to the Parche to work on forward quals. Against my better judgment (mind you, I'm coked up at the time), I say he can stay here for a couple or ten days. That was almost Two Months Ago. Instead of going out for six months and being in port for a week, the Parche's got it ass-backwards. So, since March Pee-pee's being eating all my food, watching all my TV and getting on all of my wife's nerves.
And complaining about it. I've been spending my nights down at the Parche, helping them fix stuff so they can get the fuck to sea. Now I have Sturgeon-class submarine trim pump repair experience to put on my resume. In summary, I had to forward Pelar the e-mail. I have to be nice to him. He gets home before me every day. He could change the locks. 
