America's Army Reviews

Yeah, I used to be one of the dumbasses that used to play this game.

And let me tell you, let, for once, let *me* tell *you*-- I live in America, (remember that place? Do ya?), and I have no problems with my country; it's *at least* as good as some, and better than most.... I mean, I don't even like soccer, fuck soccer-- that this is not going to be your most carefully "patriotic" message that you're ever going to see.

I mean, it's enough that they send fucking uniformed recruiters into our high schools.... Yeah, really. I mean-- I am going to chemistry class, and if you don't get this moron jarhead out of my way....

But that's not enough, they have to make dogshit like this, for dumbasses like me.

And Halo 4. Dude. Go fuck yourself.

And if I see one more commercial, about trying to get *girls* into *Afghanistan*, while *I* am trying to watch, --"How I Met Your Mother"--

No, really.

And if I see one more commercial, about trying to get *girls* into *Afghanistan*, while *I* am trying to watch, --"How I Met Your Mother"--

So help me God, I'm just going to try not to lose my temper right now.

Because you should know, that this is the (almost) cleaned up version.

So fuck this game.... and fuck the fucking Iraqi tennis team; it's not worth dying for.

{Let alone the creature comforts of the garrison of the Republican Palace in Baghdad, who shrugged it off when the insurgents killed the guys who thought they were their "allies"....}

And, you know what? Sometimes the fucking jarheads are an *embarrassment* to this country, like, the worst fucking thing for *us*. And yet, *they*, act like *they*, *never* are, like *they*, are *always*, *better*, than *us*.

Well, you know what. If you want to be *as good* of an American as I am, you fucking riotous little jarhead nobody, you can start by pulling that preacher's stick out of your ass, and getting down from that fucking pulpit-- because you ain't no Lamb of God.

("The man has been in Gaul for *eight years*. He's practically a wild beast.")

More like a bully from Salzburg, than an 'Amadeus'.

And now, I'm going to my Zumba class. And you Afghani fuckers can go fuck yourselves.

I'll pay my goddamn taxes, and if you want to use them to fucking blow your arms and legs off, then I guess that I just can't fucking help that.

Your problem, man.

I'm not one of our fucking 'Arabs'.... I'd say, 'street Arabs', but that's something different.

Worst. Thing. Ever.

I mean, I can only guess whether or not it's worse than coming back from the-- my husband is in the army, so please put on a bandaid on my internal trauma-- and finding one of these commercials that say, basically, smash your daughter's violin, stop taking her to ballet, cancel your trip to see "Hope Springs", and just.... fucking let her join the army, or something.

And the little bastards act like they're good parents. I'm sorry, you're not.

.... I mean, do you notice how it's never the police that pulls this crap?

And yet, if somebody breaks into my house, it's not going to be the Air Force that shows up to take the guy out.

Or, at least....

I fucking hope not.

.... And there's what good for America, and sometimes it's not what's good for the army, and sometimes you have to choose....

Yeah, and some things, you just shouldn't get credit for. ("Those who do their work deserve pay and thanks, but no one deserves infinite pay or infinite thanks.")

(Remember that time time that we, as an institution, decided to not be like that guy who had been through our ranks five years before?)

So consider this your, un-getting-credit.

(3/10)