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Goofus, Patron Saint of Skylarks

A selection of classic skylarking and horseplaying tales from the "Friday Funnies"

Sheepish Expressions -- A Sure Giveaway

Just when I thought that Goofus, Patron Saint of Skylarks, had retired, a trio of new recruits shows up. An EN2 was playing around with a shipmate, who picked him up and dropped him on his chin. A sergeant was both intoxicated and wrestling, a bad combo that in this case produced a back injury serious enough to make him lose three days of work and spend a month on light duty. And an AW2 was horsing around with his roommate, fell backwards, and sprained his wrist so badly that he also was on light duty for a month. Know how I can tell members of Goofus’s retinue by sight? By their sheepish expressions. They always know they shouldn’t have been screwing around, and the ways they get hurt are always so stupid.

A Couple More Mooncalves Enter the Retinue

Goofus, the Patron Saint of Skylarks, has inducted a couple more mooncalves into his retinue. First was an airman, at rate training, who decided to liven up the proceedings with an impromptu wrasslin' demo. He would be the Rock, and an unsuspecting shipmate would play Mysterio. Report doesn't specify if he was trying an angle slam or a sit-down bodypress (for those of you who are abysmally out of it, these moves cause widespread havoc on the pro-wrestling circuit). The result this time was an untelegenic collapse to the deck, an ankle bone no longer connected to a leg bone, and a fractured fibula. Odd, those guys on television hop right up. Both wrestlers admitted that their supervisors had told them that horseplay was not allowed on the ship. If only it were that simple. And just to show that this sort of thing isn't gender-specific, the second bout on the evening's card features a 22-year-old ET3. She playfully shoved a fellow sailor as he walked past her at 0400 in an apartment. He picked her up over his shoulder and just as playfully flipped her onto the bed. The loud cracking sound that ensued was a vertebra in her neck, dislocating. The message says that the problem was "failure to realize the dangers of throwing one on their head." You'd think that would be obvious, wouldn't you? Folks, necks can't take much abuse (unlike the pronouns in that sentence from the message).

Getting Your Supervisor's Attention -- Also a Broken Leg

Seems an MM3 was standing watch in a main machinery room whilst his ship was underway in the Arabian Sea. He hollered to his supervisor, who was several feet away. The supervisor was oblivious. So the MM3, for reasons known only to himself and Goofus (the Patron Saint of Skylarking) crept up behind the supervisor, grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him backward. He toppled onto the MM3's leg. The MM3 now had his supervisor's full attention. Unfortunately, he also had a broken tibia and fibula (if your knowledge of the skeletal system is sketchy, just think "10 days in the hospital, 45 days away from work and six months of hobbling around after that").

Bear Hug Prompts Knee to Groin

An off-duty AO2, fooling around in the enlisted berthing compartment of a CVN. The Sailor grabbed a shipmate in a face-first bear hug. The shipmate responded not with a vigorous, shipmately embrace, but with a violent twist and a quick knee to that region of the anatomy for which we have numerous colorful terms but which in message traffic must be referred to as “the groin.” The mishap report said the knee was inadvertent, but advertent or not, the AO2 hit the deck like a gaffed mackeral. Any former Little Leaguer, such as myself, who has ever taken a line drive to the part of the anatomy in question, knows too well that among the varieties of eye-watering, leg-collapsing physical anguish available for infliction on the average male, this knee produced numero uno. The resulting hematoma put the AO2 in the hospital for 20 days and off the job for two months.

Not Exactly the Best Eye-Wash

Goofus has a new recruit--an airman who was stripping a deck on a carrier. A shipmate was nearby, and they started horsing around, and yada yada yada, the airman got sprayed in the eyes with stripper, which contains several 8-syllable kinds of hazmat. No permanent damage this time, but can’t imagine it was a whole lot of fun. Message doesn’t mention PPE, so I have to assume that it, along with any shred of common sense, was absent.

Why You Shouldn't Carry a Glass in Your Pocket

Goofus recently added another member to his boisterous but boneheaded retinue. A PO2 had been on liberty in the U.K. and had acquired a souvenir glass. Awaiting the duty van, he and a shipmate started roughhousing, a time-honored way to pass the time and to make sure things don’t get dull. Which they certainly weren’t, once the souvenir glass shattered and punctured an artery in the Sailor’s arm. The cops arrived and provided first aid until the ambulance showed up. Three days in the hospital, a month and a half of light duty, and a session with a surgeon that no doubt left him with a much more permanent souvenir.

What the Official Goofus Shirt Looks Like

Two Sailors were supposed to be engaged in what the report called "space preservation" (I think that sounds better than "chipping" or "painting"). Needless to say, that can't hold a candle to a sudden spot of wrasslin', but when Sailor one (we'll call him the grabber) latched onto a Sailor from another work center who was entering the space (we'll call him the grabbee), the grabbee's ankle gave way. He toppled and broke his leg on a stair tread. He wasn't immediately available for formal induction by Goofus because he had to spend three days in sick bay. But during the month he spent off work, and the 6-to-8 weeks in a cast, and the four months on light duty, he found time to attend the formal ceremony, which is always full of pranks and pratfalls. The highlight is the awarding of the official t-shirt, bearing the words "Horseplay Participant" on the front, emblazoned above a picture of the hind end of a horse, which is what all skylarks end up looking like. The ceremony concludes with a parade, which often takes quite a while, what with all the canes and crutches.

Shrugged Off Like an Empty Knapsack

A couple of corporals were heading home from liberty at 0300 and walking upstairs when one of them (who was five-foot-six) heeded the clarion call of Goofus, Patron Saint of Skylarks, and leaped onto the back of his crony (who was a foot taller). No doubt a six-foot-six Marine could easily carry a smaller Marine. Problem was that he could also shrug him off like an empty knapsack, which he did, flinging him face-first into a nearby wall, thereby splitting open his erstwhile passenger’s eyebrow. Having thus cemented the bonds of friendship and having agreed the injury was minor (the blood was just dripping, not gushing), they went their separate ways. The injured Marine gutted it out until the following afternoon, but since he was then about a quart low, he went to the nearest hospital for stitches. He was back on duty that evening, with both a large bandage to explain to whomever was curious and a newfound determination to leave playing piggyback to toddlers.

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