On Jul 30, 1:17*pm, H the K wrote:
Scott Dickson wrote:
On Jul 29, 8:29 pm, H the K wrote:
"Here, hold my beer while I..."

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...kick Loogy in the nuts......

You mean, of course, kick Loogy where his nuts would be...if he had any.

:)

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Whatever moral rules you have proposed, abide by them as they were laws,
and as if you would be guilty of impiety by violating any of them,
*unless* you are a conservative Republican office holder or minister. If
that is your position in life, then anything goes.

My former boss, the Reserve Marine Lt Colonel with PhD in physics had
his own plane, a twin engine Aerostar with turbos. I flew all over
the USA with him in it back and forth from east coast to west coast
numerous times in all kinds of nasty weather. I was scared silly most
of the time but did not dare show it. Flew into Quantico one time and
I met his marine buddies, they were all crazy like him, mid-50s and
all in fantastic physical shape. We'd fly into some middle of nowhere
airstrip to get fuel and he'd say "Let's go get lunch", I'd look
around the empty plains and see nothing at all and he'd say "Its just
a short walk" meaning 5 miles away and he was serious.
Once had an apparent landing gear failure coming into El Paso and had
to fly round and round the tower while he "bumped" it until the tower
verified it was all the way down, kinda scary.
Another time, Leaving Las Vegas, we were over the mountains with My
Whitney dead ahead, our altitude was 13,000' and climbing and the 3rd
passenger poked my shoulder and pointed out the window to the left
engine that was spewing oil. I told my boss who shrugged and said "it
always leaks oil" but I insisted he lean back and look. His eyes got
big and he handed me the chart and said "find a place to land". Was
nothing but mountains down there and bigger ones ahead. Turned back
toward Las Vegas watching the oil pressure gauge for that engine
dropping slowly. Were able to maintain 12,000' just 1000' above the
mountains till we got back. The bad engine quit just as we were on
approach and the prop feathered but he got us in ok. Mechanic had
left the oil fill cap off and the turbo was ruined. The cost was so
high to replace the engine he simply sold the plane.
A previous time, we got into a line squall and could not get out no
matter how high we went. It was awful with violent rises and falls
and noise so load you could not even hear the engines. He held the
wheel with no expression on his face. When we landed in Memphis, my
legs felt like jelly. His only response was "That was kinda rough".
Last yrear he called me and told me he had to quit flying due to a
heart problem to which I told him "You finally scared your heart to
death" and he replied he had just been riding his bicycle. Knowing
him I knew that "just riding his bicycle" meant something crazy so I
asked. He had decided to ride Hwy 276 going from Brevard, NC up to
the top of Wagonwheel Pass, a climb of thousands of feet. Marines are
nuts but I developed a huge respect for them from him.