I'm Addicted to Eric D'Olive, and I just can't stop myself!!!

Our Mission

So my old webpage was way out of date.  Luckily Yahoo has templates.  They're all gay though, so I found the addicts template.  Nobody here will make fun of you for your disease, and to be sure, we have the boredom counter to the left. Now you might be asking yourself, "Self, what is this young Aggie graduate doing with himself these days?  Law school, management, business perhaps?"  Close my friend, but no cigar. In October of 2003, I shipped out for the Army.  And so it began.  I joined up for adventure, and adventure is what I got.  The Army life is living in the fast lane, and the slow lane, and sometimes the median too, the kind of median with a ditch in it and the little burn patches that you wonder about when you pass by, talking on the cell phone and messing with the radio.  I used to think that my beloved Texas A&M was the home of drunken swagger, that is, until I got to the 82nd Airborne Division.  One day, when I'm president, I'll relocate the 82nd to College Station, and thus begin the Apocalypse.

FEATURED TIP: [I couln't bring myself to delete this good bit of advice that came with the template] Get some dogs. They'll remind you that they need to go for walks everyday, so you'll be sure to get out of the house. Preferably you'll want to get large, pushy dogs, like great danes. And you'll get a good workout!

To waste as much of your time as I possibly can, while at the same time, intriguing you to search onward.  You should note:  you will never get this time back.  Ever.

My Army story doesn't end there, however.  I'm currently in Recruiter school, learning the art of fine persuasion.  Like Starbucks and those Nintendo game controller thingies, I'll be coming to a mall near you.  "Have you thought about your future, son?  No?  Thank God!  The Army has many great opportunities for you..."  I jest, though, I really do love the Army and wouldn't trade my time here for the world.  When's the last time you jumped from a plane AND threw a hand grenade, all in the same day?  That's right, probably never, huh. How do you sleep at night?

People as bored as you!

Photographic evidence that I'm not a web-based serial killer

Here's the people that made me, outside of Hart Hall, which made me what I am today.  I leave that open to your interpretation.  Below is me, back in fightin Texas Aggie non-air days.  Even below that is most of my old Hart Hall crew, Chris, Rex, and the Willies.

Who says white boys can't rap?  To the left is John and I holding it down in my Hart Hall days.  Notice the subtle decoration of duct tape and Christmas lights.  Incidentally, he had lived at Hart Hall as my roomate for a semester before he sold out to the University of Texas, hence the burnt orange.  Below, we clean up well.  That's us at John's wedding, where he got married before I could save him.  Only kidding Suzy!  I was in Airborne School at the time, and below is me graduating.  The pins stuck into my chest until I had walked back to the barracks. AIRBORNE!!

To the upper left is me, trying on some great stuff left behind by the fleeing Iraqi national soccer coach.  I have dishonored his medals, and shown the soles of my feet in his house.  I'm still awaiting Allah's wrath.  Then D'Olive goes on break.  Yes, those are porta-johns in the background, not that it matters in a country that already smelled that way.  What war would be complete without getting a picture of yourself in a famous place?  To the left is me, with an Iraqi flag, on Uncle Sadaam's old public address podium.  I have dishonored his throne and peed in his personal bathroom without washing my hands.  Allah be merciful.  Below are the stone cold killahs of the Operation Iraqi Freedom II 2nd Platoon weapons squad.  Like my glasses?  Yellow makes me mellow.  It also gets me laughed at.  So enjoy!  Jackass.