Job And Personal Description Of A Combat Controller
At first glance the Combat Controller appears to be one of nature's heartier jokes; clumsy and stupid, cold hearted and lazy, sunk in impenetrable gloom, emitting frightful noises and repugnant odors, the vilest of tempers, maddening to train, and given to biting the hand that feeds it.  It is certainly no beauty either.  Six feet tall, it's 200 pounds packed mostly into it's middle, barrel bellied, thick lipped, spindle shanked, and knock kneed, it is said to be a pig invented by committee.  Everything about the Combat Controllers designed to fit him to his hellish habitat; cheap bars and whore houses.  The eyes, the Combat Controller's only truly beautiful feature, are set back into an overhanging forehead that screens out blowing beer suds.  The ears, nostrils and asshole can be puckered up tight for the same purpose.  While most Air Force people are reasonable and manageable, Combat Controllers can be quite a handful when the mating instinct is upon them.  They become extremely nervous, foaming at the mouth, with fire in their eyes, and may ravage anyone in sight without warning, biting off an arm or kneecap or killing him outright.  Frustration may well account for the behavior, as they are in heat for three or four months at a time while their wifes are in the mood only three or four days and then not every year.

     For the first year of his assignment to the Combat Control Team, a Combat Controller remains heavily dependent on his mother; only after it has been with the team for four or five years can it be trained and put to work.  The usual training method is to insert a nose plug, attached to lead strings which must be tugged judiciously; to weak a tug will make no impression, whereas too strong a jerk is likely to throw him into a towering rage.  Apart from lust, mishandling is the one thing that can turn this passive creature into a manical killer.  An enraged Combat Controller will seek revenge, however long it takes, hunting out the enemy, flinging him to the ground and crushing him to death beneath his weight.  They have been known to have spotted a mean minded S.P. or NCOIC in somebody's car and chased the car right through the center of town.

     His duties consist of war starting, pillaging, raping, looting, assassination, jeep stealing, demolition of questionable establishments for consumption of alcoholic beverages, sky diving, muff diving, and examining the local female populace for physical soundness and health.  Occasionally they are called upon to control air traffic but this duty does not interfere with the timely completion of the other more important duties.

" FORCED IN ............ LAUGHED OUT "
   " SEMPER FUCKUS UPUS "


    

From a Bad American, rumored to be CCT
I'm Your Worst Nightmare.  I am a BAD American.  I like big cars, big beers and big tits.  I believe the money I make belongs to me and my family, not some mid-level governmental functionary with a bad comb-over who wants to give it away to crack addicts squirting out babies.   I don't care about appearing compassionate.  I don't think playing with guns makes you a killer.  I believe it's called the Boy Scouts for a reason.  I DO think I'm better than the homeless.  I don't think being a minority makes you noble or a victim.  I don't care if you call me a racist, a homophobe or a misogynist.  I am not tolerant of others precisely because they are different.   I know that no matter how big Jennifer Lopez's ass gets, I'll still want to see it.  I don't celebrate Kwanzaa.  I believe that if you are selling me a Big Mac, you do it in English.  I prefer my porn without silicon.  I don't use the excuse "it's for the children" as a shield for unpopular opinions or actions.  I think getting a blowjob is sex, and every man is entitled to at least one extremely sloppy one per month.   I know what the definition of lying is.   I didn't take the initiative to invent the Internet.  I didn't think the Taco Bell dog was that funny.  I want them to bring back real fireworks.

I believe no one ever died because of something Ozzy Osbourne, Ice-T or Marilyn Manson sang.  I think that being a student doesn't give you any more enlightenment than working at Blockbuster.  I don't want to eat or drink anything with the words light, lite or fat-free on the package.  I believe everyone has a right to pray to his or her God or gods, and they can do it in their schools.  I think the Clippers should play in the WNBA.   My heroes are Newt Gingrich, John Wayne, Richard Nixon, Ronald Reagan and whoever canceled "Murder She Wrote".  I think creative violence and senseless nudity and sex makes movies more interesting.  I don't hate the rich.  I don't pity the poor.  I know wrestling is fake, and I don't think The Rock could kick my ass.  I think global warming is junk science.  I've never was or owned a slave, I didn't wander the desert for forty years after getting chased out of Egypt.  I haven't floundered a couple hundred years after getting my ass kicked by lost and starving european's.  I haven't burned any witches or been persecuted by the Turks and neither have you, so shut-the-f***-up already.

Laurel & Hardy and The Three Stooges still make me laugh.  I think you Can respect and admire women while mentally undressing them.  I believe a self-righteous liberal with a cause is more dangerous than a Play Station.  I want to know which church is it exactly, that the Rev. Jessie Jackson preaches at.  I don't care where Ellen puts her tongue.  I think explosions are cool.  I think the cops have every right to shoot your sorry ass if you're running from them.  I worry about dying before I get even.   I like the convenience of buying oranges while I'm waiting at a stop-light, and I'm pretty sure the Latin midget selling them is glad she no longer lives in a refrigerator packing carton outside Little Havana.  I think turkey bacon sucks.  I want somebody to explain to me exactly why it's wrong to point out that when I watch a freeway chase, I know the losers the police eventually pull out of the car are gonna be some gang-banging hommies.  I think tattoos and piercings are fine if you want them, but please don't pretend they are a political statement.  I like hard women, hard liquor and a good shit first thing in the morning.

I believe you don't have to speak with a lisp to pick out a couch for your living room.  I'll admit the only movies that ever made me cry were The Sands of Iwo Jima, The Green Beret and Ole Yeller.  I will not conform or compromise just to keep from hurting your's or someone elses feelings.   Sometimes I throw my beer can in the trash, even when the recycle bin is just a few more steps away.  Making love is fine, but sometimes I just wanna get laid.  I'm neither angry nor disenfranchised, no matter how desperately the mainstream media would like the world to believe otherwise.

                                                                                                             I'm a Bad American



Combat Controllers Will Do Everything!

Airborne, HALO, SCUBA, Ect.....

I actually own a t-shirt with the above inscription and picture on it.  This was back in 1983 and I remember actually wearing this t-shirt with pride.  Well, times have changed and now due to the publicity CCT has received, we no longer advertise our breeding habits.

 

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USAF Combat Control Team

Author, Lecturer, Traveler, Occasional Hero, Paratrooper, Scuba Diver, and Hero of the Oppressed … Live by Chance, Love by Choice, Killer by Profession.

Wars fought, Assassinations plotted, Airborne assaults, Halo insertions, Tigers tamed, Alligators castrated,  Computers verified, Orgies organized, Virgins Converted, Perversion - taught,
Bars emptied, Instructions given.          

COMBAT CONTROLLERS, THEY'LL DO IT ALL FOR YOU.