Why marines don't kiss

It's always the same fucking dream. There I am at the Marine Ball, looking sharp as shit with my hand out to Sharon Stone.

I know she's hot as hell to get into my skivvies, but that bitch pretends not to notice me.

So what was I supposed to do? I whipped it out and told her to eat me.

But only I wasn't at the Marine Ball. I was in the barracks dreaming.

And it wasn't Sharon Stone who saw me. It was that fucking Sergeant Swan.