The A-10 Warthog, an infantryman's best friend.

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U.S. Army Paratroopers from 2nd Battalion (Airborne), 503rd Infantry Regiment, "The Rock", 173rd Airborne Brigade Combat Team, call in an A-10 Warthog to engage Insurgent position with 30mm gatling gun in Korengal valley, Afghanistan. Additional info: "The distance was no more than 500 meters and this is after we had just gotten attacked from multiple positions, this being only one of them, and in a village we visited frequently and were shot at on the way in and on the way out just about every fucking time and in a place where we took contact on a daily basis, some from far some from close."

Sweet.

I just posted this on a news site.

Someone, commenting on a story about a meth addict blowing himself up by using a propane torch near gunpowder, commented "Seriously, ban tweakers." I replied.

I'm a recovering "tweaker." Lost close to two years of my life, alienated family, and nearly killed myself because I was stupid. 22 years clean and I'm still wanting that next hit.

It's so easy for you to judge. I never set out to be an addict. I never realized I was becoming one. I was stupid, and thought that I could handle it. I was wrong. Good enough for you? I was arrogant and got taught a lesson. Happy with my contrition?

Pretty easy to dismiss us as tweakers. Makes us less than human. So go [unbelievably profane and anatomically impossible act] yourself. I'm going to sit back and thank the departed spirit of the person who dragged me out of that pit.

Not everyone is so lucky.

I am not proud of my addiction. But like hell am I going to let people like me be stuffed into demeaning categories by some loser who has no clue.

And yes, I wake up every morning wanting another hit, and go to bed the same way. I will never not be an addict, I am just a person who works to not give in.