This may be the most amazing thing I have ever, ever seen in my entire life.
This takes Kegel exercises to a new height while simultaneously taking my depravity to a new depth. Although this woman may seem like a dream come true to a lot of guys, remember this: she has the vaginal strength to turn your manhood into something that resembles a balloon sculpture down by a half-drunk cross-eyed clown. Caveat humptor.
As we get closer to Christmas I would like to introduce to all of the uninitiated the Russian Christmas tradition of Ded Moroz and Snegurochka. Ded Moroz (Grandfather Frost) is the Russian equivalent of Santa Claus and his granddaughter Snegurochka [снегурочка] (the Snow Maiden) is the Russian equivalent of a Christmas stripper with fewer morals and a natural immunity to frostbite. Considering the Russian Christmas traditions include partying with scantily clad women for up to two weeks, I think they might have an edge on us in the strategic winter holiday category.
Yeah, it’s like that. In fact they really celebrate the New Year more than Christmas, but hey, who cares?
I’ll be in an igloo.
Considering the previous post profiling how far women will go for the perfect derriere and in honor of the perfect buttocks that the world lost with Miss Argentina’s passing I present you with this week’s Tuesday theme: Nice bottoms. 
Remember, never leave your buddy’s behind.
And ergo we’re going with a holiday theme for this week’s titillation: Pilgrim and Native American detente.
The first people here were the Indians/Native Americans/whatever name we’re using these days, and it was good.
Then came the Pilgrims and they were pretty good too.
Then the native women taught the Pilgrim women to loosen up.
And things got better.
And because the Native American women taught the Pilgrim women to loosen up and have fun, we now have sexy costumes and role playing… and for that we are now eternally grateful.
This Tuesday’s theme isn’t really a theme per se, but more of a block of instruction on the art and science of camouflage. I’m going to show you pictures of women attempting to camouflage themselves and then critique their efforts individually. I think this will be a learning experience from which everyone will find something useful to take away. 
This first one is easy. The girl isn’t even really trying as you can see from the lack of camo, the black uniform (black isn’t really a naturally occuring color in nature… at least not in abundance), and the highly polished boots. Sniper bait.
This next girl is almost invisible…. except for the shiny, jingly belly button jewelry and completely un-authorized necklace! Good lord! Hasn’t she ever heard of light and noise discipline not to mention AR 670-1?!? 
This next girl is doing everything right as far as her cammo technique is concerned. She has no jewelry, subdued makeup, and appropriate cammo pattern. But she has made one critical error… she’s silhouetting herself on that bridge! Rookie move!
Now these two illustrate the never ending debate about woodland cammo pattern vs. digital cammo… but neither one is really effective if you’re wearing shiny bracelets and belly button jewelry! Come on ladies!
Now this woman has it down pat… almost. She’s made another rookie error and that’s lack of paying attention to detail. White underwear? Really? So what happens if you have to drop a deuce in the field and Charlie or Haji or Chester sees your glaring white underwear? That’s right, you’re hosed.
And last but certainly not least is one woman who got it right. No shiny bling. No noisy jewelry. Good use of natural cover and concealment as well as terrain appropriate camouflage. Hell, it’s almost impossible to see her but if you look really hard you might be able to make out bits and pieces of her outline. She’s a pro folks.
If you want to see more pics like these, check out Coed Magazine… they have a hundred of them.
H/T to Claymore. Muchos gracias amigo.
The winner of the RangerUp t-shirt contest is Laura Beaver from North Carolina. Her hubby was deployed to A-stan and had a back in jury that ended his military career at the 19 year point… which as we all know sucks. 
This is the variety of picture that I got from Laura… but more these are more tame.
Not a lot more tame, just tamer.
Mr. Beaver must be pretty happy with Mrs. Beaver… especially considering she’s 40.
This is a pic from then SGT Beaver’s deployment. He liked flamingos.
Well, flamingos and mortars. Anyway, congratulations to Laura Beaver from North Carolina for winning The Sniper/RangerUp picture t-shirt contest. We’ll be looking forward to pic of her in her new t.
I got a request for a Tuesday Titillation from someone who is totally not TSO. He was at his girlfriend’s (totally not Caroline) parents house this weekend trying to take a nap while watching football, when his girlfriend (again, not Caroline) decided to play Captain TV and change the channel. She settled on the Food Channel.
There this person (not TSO) found his new celebrity crush in the personage of Claire Robinson. She may cook like Rachel Ray, but unlike Rachel, Claire isn’t sporting a dong.
She makes food. Apparently. I don’t know, the guy who wasn’t TSO wasn’t really paying much attention with the pillow in his lap.
Not sure why she is on food channel, when she should be on some really, really crappy Sci Fi specials where basement dwelling guys (except TSO) could lust after her as she wears next to nothing. This guy mentioned something about wishing he could get his hands on her tomatoes.
Anyway, this dude told me he was praying that the faucet would break and she would do the rest of the show in a dripping T-shirt. And when she talked about “forking the meat” he may have had an “oopsie.”
This is her with Chicken, or maybe beef. Either way, just check out her totally delicious looking sweet potatoes.
The Guy who is not TSO said he was totally into her elf ears and her lack of an upper lip. I think it might have been the Schwilman who sent it to me.
Enjoy your girls, guns, and Lean Cuisine faux fried chicken with soy french fries… unless that jackass from accounting looted the break room fridge again… in which case enjoy your ketchup packets.
Small waist, big gun.
Nothing beats range time
There's just something wrong with a Hello Kitty assault rifle.
The Ak-47... when you absolutely, positively have to kill every MF in the room.
Well, there you go. Enjoy your flesh and metal and Spaghetti-O’s or whatever it is that you’re choking down in your cubicle.
My internet issues have been resolved and I am now back on to bring you my tainted version of the world’s happenings. This week is going to be a little different because I’m not going with the usual theme of scantily clad women but of women that completely out of their dates’ leagues. Yes, I talking about Russian mail order brides. They’ve got beautiful faces, smokin’ hot bodies, ice cold water in their veins, and and cold, hollow pits where their hearts should be. Don’t get me wrong, some women from the former Soviet Union actually do come here for the sake of love and I’ve actually known one that refused to come to America and wanted her fiance to move there… but those Russian women are few and far between. THe majority of Slavic seductresses trying to get over here on a fiance visa will do their two years as a wife and then the minute the paperwork clears she’ll be off on her own. Think of it as a form of prostitution because in all actuality it is. You’ve heard of pay for play, just think of this as play for stay. I also know that some guys can be hideously ugly and still manage to land a hot wife (I know this from personal experience) but you better have either a) a Rock star career, b) a ton of money, c) horse genitalia, d) an awesome sense of humor, e) washboard abs and pecs the size of paving stones, d) immense power, or e) any combination of the aforementioned… in fact, it should probably be “e” if you want to keep her. That being said lets take a look at the gals that are trying to land their golden tickets and the suckers that aregoing over to get them. I’m calling this post “Disparate Housewives”.
A May-December romance… no really, that’s how long it will last.
Just keep that wallet out fat boy. At least the round trip tickets, the visa application, and the wedding will be cheaper than one of his trips to the grocery store.
“… and I’ve got a 67th level dwarf accountant on World of Warcraft.”
The girl right next to him can’t even hide her disdain for one picture.
What he’s thinking:”I hope she doesn’t notice that I just climaxed.” What she’s thinking: “Jackpot!”
“Sheep don’t count? Well shucks, I guess I am a virgin after all.”
What Alla was thinking: “I am geeving heem 8 months maybe until he dies. I am can tollerating wrinkle sex for eight months.”
They were a perfect match: Yulia had never seen a penis and Wayne hadn’t seen his since the Clinton administration.
[Insert fat pedophile joke here.]
Dude, seriously. After 8 months in the states she’s going to make like your underwear and leave skid marks when she steals your car and makes her getaway.
Yeah I’m pale, plain, and weakly. Mock me all you want Mr. Sniper… but I’m the guy drinking vodka and chillin’ in the sun with three smokeshows that I’ll be oil wrestling later. Blog on douchebag.
I guess the last guy has a point. As long as you know what you’re getting into, who am I to spoil your fun?
Pictures from LiveLeak
This week I had the pleasure of meeting up with a friend of mine on her way home from Oktoberfest in Munich, Germany. I was invited to go along with her to Oktoberfest, but my friend is not only female and blond, but skinny so Mrs. Sniper summarily nixed not only the trip to Oktoberfest with my friend but any participation in any trips to foreign countries where the primary purpose of the trip was drinking massive amounts of alcohol and the primary traveling companion would be a leggy blond. My friend did show me pictures of her trip and although she did buy and wear a dirndl on her trip, she did not give me I was not allowed to post those pictures and gave me pretty much the same threat of bodily injury through firearms and dull cutting implements that Mrs. Sniper did. Luckily, we have Claymore who scours the internet in painstaking research for our Tuesday selections. Thanks to Claymore we have proxy Oktoberfest pics courtesy of COED Magazine.
I would have posted these yesterday, but as I said, I was hanging with my peeps homes.
Also, I went to Oktoberfest at the German Military Hangar at Dulles on Thursday of last week with people that would probably rather I didn’t print their names. We had a great time but when I went to take pictures I realized that I had left the memory card at home in the computer so you don’t get any pics from that. Sorry.
Anyway, I’ll be in mein bunk.
This is Denise Milani
She has no idea what a drink costs because she has never, ever had to purchase one herself.
She has 30,000 friends on FaceBook and MySpace. That’s 3,000 less than the number of friend request rejections that she’s returned to me.
She’s not actually wearing a silver bikini top… it’s a solar cell with enough surface area to provide electricity to most of Southern California. The silver bottoms run the coolant system for the bra.
She has never worked as a secretary because no married man that wants to stay that way would hire her, no single man would ever get any work done with her in the office, and women that look like her don’t need to type 75 words per minute.
Mere mortals such as myself (and most of you) will never see her like this in person.
And most of us would even get rejected from seeing her like this in our imaginations.
I’ll be in my bunk… getting rejected.
