RabidAlien
1st Lieutenant
Quotes and Jokes (3 Viewers)
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- Start date
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The Difference between "Focus on Problems" and "Focus on Solutions"
When NASA began the launch of astronauts into space, they found out that the pens wouldn't work at zero gravity. In order to solve this problem, they hired Andersen Consulting (Accenture today). It took them one decade and 12 million dollars.
They developed a pen that worked at zero gravity, upside down, under water, in practically any surface including crystal and in a temperature range from below freezing to over 300 degrees C.
The Russians used a pencil...
When NASA began the launch of astronauts into space, they found out that the pens wouldn't work at zero gravity. In order to solve this problem, they hired Andersen Consulting (Accenture today). It took them one decade and 12 million dollars.
They developed a pen that worked at zero gravity, upside down, under water, in practically any surface including crystal and in a temperature range from below freezing to over 300 degrees C.
The Russians used a pencil...
How many forum members does it takes to change a light bulb?
1 to change the light bulb and to post that the light bulb has been changed
14 to share similar experiences of changing light bulbs and how the light bulb could have been changed differently
7 to caution about the dangers of changing light bulbs
1 to move it to the Lighting section
2 to argue then move it to the Electricals section
7 to point out spelling/grammar errors in posts about changing light bulbs
5 to flame the spell checkers
3 to correct spelling/grammar flames
6 to argue over whether it's "lightbulb" or "light bulb" ... another 6 to condemn those 6 as stupid
2 industry professionals to inform the group that the proper term is "lamp"
15 know-it-alls who claim they were in the industry, and that "light bulb" is perfectly correct
19 to post that this forum is not about light bulbs and to please take this discussion to a lightbulb forum
11 to defend the posting to this forum saying that we all use light bulbs and therefore the posts are relevant to this forum
36 to debate which method of changing light bulbs is superior, where to buy the best light bulbs, what brand of light bulbs work best for this technique and what brands are faulty
7 to post URL's where one can see examples of different light bulbs
4 to post that the URL's were posted incorrectly and then post the corrected URL's
3 to post about links they found from the URL's that are relevant to this group which makes light bulbs relevant to this group
13 to link all posts to date, quote them in their entirety including all headers and signatures, and add "Me too"
5 to post to the group that they will no longer post because they cannot handle the light bulb controversy
4 to say "didn't we go through this already a short time ago?"
13 to say "do a Google search on light bulbs before posting questions about light bulbs"
1 forum lurker to respond to the original post 6 months from now and start it all over again.
1 to change the light bulb and to post that the light bulb has been changed
14 to share similar experiences of changing light bulbs and how the light bulb could have been changed differently
7 to caution about the dangers of changing light bulbs
1 to move it to the Lighting section
2 to argue then move it to the Electricals section
7 to point out spelling/grammar errors in posts about changing light bulbs
5 to flame the spell checkers
3 to correct spelling/grammar flames
6 to argue over whether it's "lightbulb" or "light bulb" ... another 6 to condemn those 6 as stupid
2 industry professionals to inform the group that the proper term is "lamp"
15 know-it-alls who claim they were in the industry, and that "light bulb" is perfectly correct
19 to post that this forum is not about light bulbs and to please take this discussion to a lightbulb forum
11 to defend the posting to this forum saying that we all use light bulbs and therefore the posts are relevant to this forum
36 to debate which method of changing light bulbs is superior, where to buy the best light bulbs, what brand of light bulbs work best for this technique and what brands are faulty
7 to post URL's where one can see examples of different light bulbs
4 to post that the URL's were posted incorrectly and then post the corrected URL's
3 to post about links they found from the URL's that are relevant to this group which makes light bulbs relevant to this group
13 to link all posts to date, quote them in their entirety including all headers and signatures, and add "Me too"
5 to post to the group that they will no longer post because they cannot handle the light bulb controversy
4 to say "didn't we go through this already a short time ago?"
13 to say "do a Google search on light bulbs before posting questions about light bulbs"
1 forum lurker to respond to the original post 6 months from now and start it all over again.
RabidAlien
1st Lieutenant
Love it!
Lucky13
Forum Mascot
On a different matter.....
Joe wanted to buy a motorbike. He doesn't have much
luck until, one day; he comes across a Harley with a 'For Sale'
sign on it.
The bike seems even better than a new one, although it
is 10 years old. It is shiny and in absolute mint condition.. He
immediately buys it, and asks the seller how he kept it in such
great condition for 10 years.
'Well, it's quite simple, really,' says the seller, 'whenever the
bike Is outside and it's Going to rain, rub Vaseline on the chrome. It
protects it from the rain.' and he hands Joe a jar of Vaseline.
That night, his girlfriend, Sandra, invites him over
to meet her parents. Naturally, they take the bike there.
But just before they enter the house, Sandra stops him
and says, 'I have to tell you something about my family before we
go in.'
When we eat dinner, we don't talk. In fact,
the first person who says anything during dinner has to do the
dishes.''No problem,' he says. And in they go.
Joe is shocked. Right smack in the middle of the
living room is a huge stack of dirty dishes.
In the kitchen is another huge stack of dishes. Piled
up on the stairs, In the corridor, everywhere he looks, dirty
dishes.
They sit down to dinner and, sure enough, no one says
a Word. As dinner progresses, Joe decides to take advantage of the
situation. So he leans over and kisses Sandra. No one says a
word. So he reaches over and fondles her breasts. Still, nobody says
a word. So he stands up, grabs her, rips her clothes off, throws her
on the table, and scr*ws her right there, in front of her parents.
His girlfriend is a little flustered, her dad is
obviously livid, and her mom horrified when he sits back down, but
no one says a word.
He looks at her mom. 'She's got a great
body,' he thinks. So he grabs the Mom, bends her over the dinner
table,and has his way with her every which way right there on the dinner table.
Now his girlfriend is furious and her dad is boiling, but still, total
silence.
All of a sudden there is a loud clap of thunder, and
it starts to rain.
Joe remembers his bike, so he pulls the jar of
Vaseline from his pocket.
The father shouts, 'All right, I'll do the f***king dishes.
Haha!
RabidAlien
1st Lieutenant
Airframes
Benevolens Magister
Nice one Jan!
A man at the bar is staring at his drink. After half an hour, a troublemaker takes the drink and downs it. As the man starts crying, the troublemaker says: 'Look, I was just joking. Here, I'll buy you another drink.' 'It's not that,' the man says. 'This has been the worst day of my life. First, I overslept, was late for work and my boss fired me. Then I went to leave, only to find my car had been stolen. When I reported it, the police said they couldn't do anything. And as I stepped out of the cab when I got home, I realized I'd left my wallet and credit card in the car. Then I found my wife in bed with the milkman, so I came to this pub. And while I was thinking about ending my life, you went and drank my poison.'
RabidAlien
1st Lieutenant
Oops!
Australian Check Flight
Hi Mate,
I am writing to you because I need your help to get me bloody pilot's
license back. You keep telling me you got all the right contacts. Well
now's your chance to make something happen for me because, mate, I'm
bloody desperate. But first, I'd better tell you what happened during my
last flight review with the CAA Examiner
On the phone, Ron (that's the CAA d*#"head) seemed a reasonable sort of
a bloke. He politely reminded me of the need to do a flight review every
two years. He even offered to drive out, have a look over my property
and let me operate from my own strip. Naturally I agreed to that.
Anyway, Ron turned up last Wednesday. First up, he said he was a bit
surprised to see the plane on a small strip outside my homestead,
because the ALA (Authorized Landing Area) is about a mile away. I
explained that because this strip was so close to the homestead, it was
more convenient than the ALA, and despite the power lines crossing about
midway down the strip, it's really not a problem to land and take-off,
because at the halfway point down the strip you're usually still on the
ground.
For some reason Ron seemed nervous. So, although I had done the pre-
flight inspection only four days earlier, I decided to do it all over
again. Because the prick was watching me carefully, I walked around the
plane three times instead of my usual two.
My effort was rewarded because the colour finally returned to Ron's
cheeks. In fact, they went a bright red. In view of Ron's obviously
better mood, I told him I was going to combine the test flight with some
farm work, as I had to deliver three poddy calves from the home paddock
to the main herd. After a bit of a chase I finally caught the calves and
threw them into the back of the ol' Cessna 172. We climbed aboard, but
Ron started getting onto me about weight and balance calculations and
all that crap. Of course I knew that sort of thing was a waste of time
because, calves like to move around a bit particularly when they see
themselves 500 feet off the ground! So, it's bloody pointless trying to secure them as you know. However, I did tell Ron that he shouldn't worry as I always keep the trim wheel set on neutral to ensure we remain pretty stable at all stages throughout the flight.
Anyway, I started the engine and cleverly minimized the warm-up time by
tramping hard on the brakes and gunning her to 2,500 rpm. I then
discovered that Ron has very acute hearing, even though he was wearing a
bloody headset. Through all that noise he detected a metallic rattle
and demanded I account for it. Actually it began about a month ago and
was caused by a screwdriver that fell down a hole in the floor and
lodged in the fuel selector mechanism. The selector can't be moved now,
but it doesn't matter because it's jammed on `All tanks', so I suppose
that's Okay.
However, as Ron was obviously a nit-picker, I blamed the noise on
vibration from a stainless steel thermos flask which I keep in a beaut
little possie between the windshield and the magnetic compass. My
explanation seemed to relax Ron, because he slumped back in the seat and
kept looking up at the cockpit roof. I released the brakes to taxi out,
but unfortunately the plane gave a leap and spun to the right. "Hell" I
thought, "not the starboard wheel chock again".
The bump jolted Ron back to full alertness. He looked around just in
time to see a rock thrown by the prop-wash disappear completely through
the windscreen of his brand new Commodore. "Now I'm really in trouble",
I thought.
While Ron was busy ranting about his car, I ignored his requirement that
we taxi to the ALA, and instead took off under the power lines. Ron
didn't say a word, at least not until the engine started coughing right
at the lift off point, and then he bloody screamed his head off. "Oh
God! Oh God! Oh God!"
"Now take it easy, Ron" I told him firmly. "That often happens on
take-off and there is a good reason for it". I explained patiently that
I usually run the plane on standard MOGAS, but one day I accidentally
put in a gallon or two of kerosene. To compensate for the low octane of
the kerosene, I siphoned in a few gallons of super MOGAS and shook the
wings up and down a few times to mix it up. Since then, the engine has
been coughing a bit but in general it works just fine, if you know how
to coax it properly.
Anyway, at this stage Ron see med to lose all interest in my test
flight. He pulled out some rosary beads, closed his eyes and became
lost in prayer. (I didn't think anyone was a Catholic these days). I
selected some nice music on the HF radio to help him relax. Meanwhile,
I climbed to my normal cruising altitude of 10,500 feet. I don't
normally put in a flight plan or get the weather because, as you know
getting FAX access out here is a friggin' joke and the weather is always
8/8ths blue anyway.
Anyhow, on leveling out, I noticed some wild camels heading into my
improved pasture. I hate bloody camels, and carry a loaded 303
clipped inside the door of the Cessna just in case.
We were too high to hit them, but as a matter of principle, I decided to
have a go through the open window. Mate, when I pulled the bloody rifle
out, the effect on Ron was friggin' electric. As I fired the first shot
his neck lengthened by about six inches and his eyes bulged like a
rabbit with myxo. He really looked as if he had been jabbed with an
electric cattle prod on full power. In fact, Ron's reaction was so
distracting that I lost concentration for a second and the next shot
went straight through the port tyre. Ron was a bit upset about the
shooting (probably one of those pinko animal lovers I guess) so I
decided not to tell him about our little problem with the tyre.
Shortly afterwards I located the main herd and decided to do my fighter
pilot trick. Ron had gone back to praying when, in one smooth sequence,
I pulled on full flaps, cut the power and started a side slip from
10,500 feet down to 500 feet at 130 knots indicated (the last time I
looked anyway) and the little needle rushed up to the red area on me
ASI. What a buzz, mate! About half way through the descent I looked
back in the cabin to see the calves gracefully suspended in mid air and
mooing like crazy. I was going to comment on this unusual sight, but
Ron looked a bit green and had rolled himself into the fetal position
and was screamin' his freakin' head off. Mate, talk about being in a
bloody zoo. You should've been there, it was so bloody funny!
At about 500 feet I leveled out, but for some reason we kept sinking.
When we reached 50 feet I applied full power but nothin' happened. No
noise no nothin'. Then, luckily, I heard me instructor's voice in me
head saying "carb heat, carb heat". So I pulled carb heat on and that
helped quite a lot, with the engine finally regaining full power.
Then mate, you'll never guess what happened next! As luck would have
it, at that height we flew into a massive dust cloud caused by the
cattle and suddenly went I.F. bloody R, mate. Keevvie, you would have
been really proud of me as I didn't panic once, not once, but I did make
a mental note to consider an instrument rating as soon as me gyro is
repaired (something I've been meaning to do for a while now). Suddenly
Ron's elongated neck and bulging eyes reappeared. His mouth opened
wide, very wide, but no sound emerged.
"Take it easy," I told him, "we'll be out of this in a minute". Sure
enough, about a minute later we emerged, still straight and level and
still at 50 feet. Admittedly I was surprised to notice that we were upside down, and I kept thinking to myself, "I hope Ron didn't notice that I had forgotten to set the QNH when we were taxiing". This minor tribulation forced me to fly to a nearby valley in which I had to do a half roll to get
upright again.
Knowing that the tyre problem demanded a slow approach, I flew a couple
of steep turns with full flap. Soon the stall warning horn was blaring
so loud in me ear that I cut its circuit breaker to shut it u p, but by
then I knew we were slow enough anyway. I turned steeply onto a 75 foot
final and put her down with a real thud. Strangely enough, I had always
thought you could only ground loop in a tail dragger but, as usual, I
was proved wrong again!
Halfway through our third loop, Ron at last recovered his sense of
humour. Talk about laugh. I've never seen the likes of it. He couldn't
stop. We finally rolled to a halt and I released the calves, who bolted
out of the aircraft like there was no tomorrow.
I then began picking clumps of dry grass. Between gut wrenching fits of
laughter, Ron asked what I was doing. I explained that we had to stuff
the port tyre with grass so we could fly back to the homestead. It was
then that Ron really lost the plot and started running away from the
aircraft. Can you believe it? The last time I saw him he was off into
the distance, arms flailing in the air and still shrieking with
laughter. I later heard that he had been confined to a psychiatric
institution - poor ******!
Anyhow mate, that's enough about Ron. The problem is I got this letter
from CAA withdrawing, until I have undergone a complete pilot training course again and undertaken another flight proficiency test.
Now I admit that I made a mistake in taxiing over the wheel chock and
not setting the QNH using strip elevation, but I can't see what else I
did that was a so bloody bad that they have to withdraw me flamin'
license. Can you?
Hi Mate,
I am writing to you because I need your help to get me bloody pilot's
license back. You keep telling me you got all the right contacts. Well
now's your chance to make something happen for me because, mate, I'm
bloody desperate. But first, I'd better tell you what happened during my
last flight review with the CAA Examiner
On the phone, Ron (that's the CAA d*#"head) seemed a reasonable sort of
a bloke. He politely reminded me of the need to do a flight review every
two years. He even offered to drive out, have a look over my property
and let me operate from my own strip. Naturally I agreed to that.
Anyway, Ron turned up last Wednesday. First up, he said he was a bit
surprised to see the plane on a small strip outside my homestead,
because the ALA (Authorized Landing Area) is about a mile away. I
explained that because this strip was so close to the homestead, it was
more convenient than the ALA, and despite the power lines crossing about
midway down the strip, it's really not a problem to land and take-off,
because at the halfway point down the strip you're usually still on the
ground.
For some reason Ron seemed nervous. So, although I had done the pre-
flight inspection only four days earlier, I decided to do it all over
again. Because the prick was watching me carefully, I walked around the
plane three times instead of my usual two.
My effort was rewarded because the colour finally returned to Ron's
cheeks. In fact, they went a bright red. In view of Ron's obviously
better mood, I told him I was going to combine the test flight with some
farm work, as I had to deliver three poddy calves from the home paddock
to the main herd. After a bit of a chase I finally caught the calves and
threw them into the back of the ol' Cessna 172. We climbed aboard, but
Ron started getting onto me about weight and balance calculations and
all that crap. Of course I knew that sort of thing was a waste of time
because, calves like to move around a bit particularly when they see
themselves 500 feet off the ground! So, it's bloody pointless trying to secure them as you know. However, I did tell Ron that he shouldn't worry as I always keep the trim wheel set on neutral to ensure we remain pretty stable at all stages throughout the flight.
Anyway, I started the engine and cleverly minimized the warm-up time by
tramping hard on the brakes and gunning her to 2,500 rpm. I then
discovered that Ron has very acute hearing, even though he was wearing a
bloody headset. Through all that noise he detected a metallic rattle
and demanded I account for it. Actually it began about a month ago and
was caused by a screwdriver that fell down a hole in the floor and
lodged in the fuel selector mechanism. The selector can't be moved now,
but it doesn't matter because it's jammed on `All tanks', so I suppose
that's Okay.
However, as Ron was obviously a nit-picker, I blamed the noise on
vibration from a stainless steel thermos flask which I keep in a beaut
little possie between the windshield and the magnetic compass. My
explanation seemed to relax Ron, because he slumped back in the seat and
kept looking up at the cockpit roof. I released the brakes to taxi out,
but unfortunately the plane gave a leap and spun to the right. "Hell" I
thought, "not the starboard wheel chock again".
The bump jolted Ron back to full alertness. He looked around just in
time to see a rock thrown by the prop-wash disappear completely through
the windscreen of his brand new Commodore. "Now I'm really in trouble",
I thought.
While Ron was busy ranting about his car, I ignored his requirement that
we taxi to the ALA, and instead took off under the power lines. Ron
didn't say a word, at least not until the engine started coughing right
at the lift off point, and then he bloody screamed his head off. "Oh
God! Oh God! Oh God!"
"Now take it easy, Ron" I told him firmly. "That often happens on
take-off and there is a good reason for it". I explained patiently that
I usually run the plane on standard MOGAS, but one day I accidentally
put in a gallon or two of kerosene. To compensate for the low octane of
the kerosene, I siphoned in a few gallons of super MOGAS and shook the
wings up and down a few times to mix it up. Since then, the engine has
been coughing a bit but in general it works just fine, if you know how
to coax it properly.
Anyway, at this stage Ron see med to lose all interest in my test
flight. He pulled out some rosary beads, closed his eyes and became
lost in prayer. (I didn't think anyone was a Catholic these days). I
selected some nice music on the HF radio to help him relax. Meanwhile,
I climbed to my normal cruising altitude of 10,500 feet. I don't
normally put in a flight plan or get the weather because, as you know
getting FAX access out here is a friggin' joke and the weather is always
8/8ths blue anyway.
Anyhow, on leveling out, I noticed some wild camels heading into my
improved pasture. I hate bloody camels, and carry a loaded 303
clipped inside the door of the Cessna just in case.
We were too high to hit them, but as a matter of principle, I decided to
have a go through the open window. Mate, when I pulled the bloody rifle
out, the effect on Ron was friggin' electric. As I fired the first shot
his neck lengthened by about six inches and his eyes bulged like a
rabbit with myxo. He really looked as if he had been jabbed with an
electric cattle prod on full power. In fact, Ron's reaction was so
distracting that I lost concentration for a second and the next shot
went straight through the port tyre. Ron was a bit upset about the
shooting (probably one of those pinko animal lovers I guess) so I
decided not to tell him about our little problem with the tyre.
Shortly afterwards I located the main herd and decided to do my fighter
pilot trick. Ron had gone back to praying when, in one smooth sequence,
I pulled on full flaps, cut the power and started a side slip from
10,500 feet down to 500 feet at 130 knots indicated (the last time I
looked anyway) and the little needle rushed up to the red area on me
ASI. What a buzz, mate! About half way through the descent I looked
back in the cabin to see the calves gracefully suspended in mid air and
mooing like crazy. I was going to comment on this unusual sight, but
Ron looked a bit green and had rolled himself into the fetal position
and was screamin' his freakin' head off. Mate, talk about being in a
bloody zoo. You should've been there, it was so bloody funny!
At about 500 feet I leveled out, but for some reason we kept sinking.
When we reached 50 feet I applied full power but nothin' happened. No
noise no nothin'. Then, luckily, I heard me instructor's voice in me
head saying "carb heat, carb heat". So I pulled carb heat on and that
helped quite a lot, with the engine finally regaining full power.
Then mate, you'll never guess what happened next! As luck would have
it, at that height we flew into a massive dust cloud caused by the
cattle and suddenly went I.F. bloody R, mate. Keevvie, you would have
been really proud of me as I didn't panic once, not once, but I did make
a mental note to consider an instrument rating as soon as me gyro is
repaired (something I've been meaning to do for a while now). Suddenly
Ron's elongated neck and bulging eyes reappeared. His mouth opened
wide, very wide, but no sound emerged.
"Take it easy," I told him, "we'll be out of this in a minute". Sure
enough, about a minute later we emerged, still straight and level and
still at 50 feet. Admittedly I was surprised to notice that we were upside down, and I kept thinking to myself, "I hope Ron didn't notice that I had forgotten to set the QNH when we were taxiing". This minor tribulation forced me to fly to a nearby valley in which I had to do a half roll to get
upright again.
Knowing that the tyre problem demanded a slow approach, I flew a couple
of steep turns with full flap. Soon the stall warning horn was blaring
so loud in me ear that I cut its circuit breaker to shut it u p, but by
then I knew we were slow enough anyway. I turned steeply onto a 75 foot
final and put her down with a real thud. Strangely enough, I had always
thought you could only ground loop in a tail dragger but, as usual, I
was proved wrong again!
Halfway through our third loop, Ron at last recovered his sense of
humour. Talk about laugh. I've never seen the likes of it. He couldn't
stop. We finally rolled to a halt and I released the calves, who bolted
out of the aircraft like there was no tomorrow.
I then began picking clumps of dry grass. Between gut wrenching fits of
laughter, Ron asked what I was doing. I explained that we had to stuff
the port tyre with grass so we could fly back to the homestead. It was
then that Ron really lost the plot and started running away from the
aircraft. Can you believe it? The last time I saw him he was off into
the distance, arms flailing in the air and still shrieking with
laughter. I later heard that he had been confined to a psychiatric
institution - poor ******!
Anyhow mate, that's enough about Ron. The problem is I got this letter
from CAA withdrawing, until I have undergone a complete pilot training course again and undertaken another flight proficiency test.
Now I admit that I made a mistake in taxiing over the wheel chock and
not setting the QNH using strip elevation, but I can't see what else I
did that was a so bloody bad that they have to withdraw me flamin'
license. Can you?
Lol
vonmallard
Airman
Who is the most popular man at a nudist colony
hes the one that can carry two cups of coffee and a dozen doughnuts
who is the most popular woman at the nudist colony
shes the one that can eat the last doughnut
hes the one that can carry two cups of coffee and a dozen doughnuts
who is the most popular woman at the nudist colony
shes the one that can eat the last doughnut
Matt308
Glock Perfection
Been too long that I have frequented this thread. Apologies if this is a duplicate._____________________________________________
A drunk walks out of a bar with a key in his hand and he is stumbling back and forth. A cop on the beat sees him and approaches, "Can I help you Sir?" "Yessh! Ssssomebody ssstole my carrr", the man replies. The cop asks, "Where was your car the last time you saw it?" "It wasss on the end of thisshh key", the man replies. About that time the cop looks down and sees the man's wiener hanging out of his fly for all the world to see. He asks the man, "Sir are you aware that you are exposing yourself?" Momentarily confused, the drunk looks down at his crotch and without missing a beat, blurts out... "Holy sh|t! My girlfriend's gone, too!!
just visit more often!
Lucky13
Forum Mascot
