Weapons of Mass Destruction

Even google can't seem to locate them.
This is what one would see if one were to type "weapons of mass destruction" into the google search box and click "I'm feeling lucky".

Missing

I really miss some of the friends I made in basic training and AIT. I don't want to mention them by name, but I'd give the world to see them all again. That can't happen, so the best I can do is try to track them down myself. If they're reading I'd like to say: I miss you David, David, (there are two who don't know each other but both were great battle buddies) Katie (she's real chummy with the first David), Jennifer (how are my people in Georgia?), Deborah, Rachel, Kristin (I hear Kill Bill: Vol. 2 is coming out soon; want to go see it with me?), Paul, Jill, Jessica (Georgia again), and the OG (the important people know who the OG is).
There are more but I'll have to leave them out. They are not any less important but time and my need to sleep will not allow me to list them. I really, really miss them right now. I had a lot of fun training with them and I could have had a whole lot more fun if I'd realized what I was missing.

I am the inevitable sum of my forebear's parts

I hate talking on the phone to my Dad. I love him beyond my capability to use hyperbole to describe, but talking to him on the telephone is a chore. Every conversation, since conversations between us are rare, must include a lecture lasting no less than twenty minutes on how I must take care off myself and how I must succeed by doing the right things and not trusting anyone. Dad does have a way of dropping interesting tidbits. I am very sad to report that my great-uncle died recently. I didn't know him, had never even heard his name mentioned until today. He lived comfortably in London but died alone. He had some spat with the rest of the family and had moved to London to separate himself. My Dad is currently making arrangements to retrieve the body. His death prompted my Dad to tell me that he thought I might not see him again before he died. Long separations seem to be a pattern in my family. My Dad was separated from his father 23 years and didn't see him again before he died. I confess that I didn't plan to visit very often.
Even more surprising was my father's query: "Who told you that your grandfather was a medic in the army?" My answer was "No one". I didn't know. Yet, now I am a medic in the Army. Everything I am, everything I do, down to the very way, I walk, I smell, I talk, I think, is only a recreation of what my Dad and his father are and have done before. It's as if my fate is inevitable. I could know my future by learning my father's past. I am so much like my Dad I'd almost swear that I am his clone. My mother could predict my Dad's taste by asking me first. I look so much like my Dad that people would see my Dad and swear it was me driving around only older.
I have some strange or maybe not so strange ideas about time. I believe that time is a math problem. The solution is difficult perhaps but inevitable. People are just variables moving irresistibly toward a solution that is not yet known. The implication is that the problem can be solved. I don't know if the solution is constant or variable but I know the solution exists. What this all means or matters I don't know, but I know the solution exists.
Wow that was such complete BS.