We spent all day in classes once again. Same old story we've ever heard. Don't kill yourself. Don't drive drunk. Don't drive stupid, especially in bad weather conditions. But there was one class that left an impact on all of us.
The STD class.
Sure, we've all learned all kinds of crap about STDs and how they are totally terrifying, and definitely not cool, in any size, shape, or form. So you'd think it would be old news. Think again, cowboy. They had pictures. Projected on the huge screen behind the podium were horrors that no human being should ever have to see, ever. This is the only notes I took.
"My libido has been slaughtered in a manner very similar to the way Russell Crowe eviscerated his enemies in the film 'Gladiator'."
It was disturbing. I suppose the class had its desired effect. Once again, the army has excelled at creating an intense phobia of women for me. I'll probably be ok though, I'll just sign myself up for therapy or something. I don't think this is enough to constitute as PTSD though, which is a good sign. To borrow from James Bond, I'm "Shaken, not stirred."