General Mayhem

I tried google and this is what it turned up. Hilarious or what? http://www.sugarbushsquirrel.com/ Scroll all the way down or you will miss the best of it.

Mrs Hardyferret, how do you fancy the title Mrs Hardysquirrel?

I don't know why, but that reminds me of when I went to evening class eons ago to learn enough about the internal (infernal) combustion engine to do most of my own repairs. The previous week we had gone through the timing of the piston stroke and what, exactly, went on. As in: Induction, Compression, Ignition, Exhaust. Or as I had heard it more eloquently put: Suck, Squeeze, Bang, Blow. No humour these night school instructors.

This is a transcript of a radio conversation of a US naval ship with Canadian authorities off the coast of Newfoundland, Oct. 1995. Radio conversation released by the Chief of Naval Operations 10th Oct 1995. Americans: Please divert your course 15 degrees to the North to avoid a collision. Canadians: Recommend you divert your course 15 degrees to the South to avoid a collision. Americans: This is the Captain of a US naval ship. I say again, divert your course. Canadians: No, I say again, divert your course. Americans:This is the aircraft carrier: USS Lincoln, the second largest ship in the United States' Atlantic fleet. We are accompanied by three destroyers, three cruisers and numerous support vessels. I demand that YOU change course 15 degrees North, that's one-five degrees North, or countermeasures will be undertaken to ensure the safety of this ship. Canadians: This is a lighthouse. Your call!

This might sound very quaint but I tend to use my brain. It has never let me down yet. A copy of said location into http://www.streetmap.com or similar, and that's all I need. I do have Tom=Tom, but they are both drivers. :rofl: :rofl:

I am going to whisper this very quietly. The General lives in Dorset, and he might just get along to Wareham, now if you see a stupid looking Peter Sellers character, trying to look incognito, tell him incognito doesn't mean dressing up to look like a dynamo or alternator.

Well this has been an intriguing thread, but I am still no nearer knowing how to post a picture on the 'Picture of the Week' forum than I was when it kicked off. I have to ask: Is Jack real? I hear you all refer to "him" but that's not what I see on the avatar. Haven't got a problem with that, the town of Nuneaton venerates George Elliott but you don't see a man on the town sign boards. My guess is that Jack is either a hologram or you all take it in turns to wear the "Jack" jersey, like the race leader in the Tour de France. So if somebody would let me know when it's the turn of the computer whizz :computerterror: to wear the "Jack" jersey, I would be most grateful.

This is really old hat, but I am led to believe that it's not heard of north of the southern coastal counties. I am sure you will correct me. Poets day?

Not military, but I wouldn't mind betting that this has caused one or two bustups. On this day in 1926 the very first traffic lights were installed in London's Piccadilly Circus.

Er, is this what you are looking for?

Graffitti, no it's not a new form of pasta. It's random witicisms, often on toilet walls, but in this case has anything, written in the muck of an unwashed vehicle, had you in stitches? "I wish my wife was this filthy" is so common that it's boring. But the response: "Let me tell you, mate, she is." cracked me up. And so did: "Cleaned by the NHS!" But I'm sure that you can do better than that.

Oh dear, will this get me a life ban? What is worse than knobbly knees? Er, knobbly knees and no.........

HBT Not listed here. http://www.internetslang.com/default.asp

IDGAD? As in Rett Butler? Gone with the Wind? Personally my dear, IDGAD.

I was so dissappointed to miss this event, this an aircraft that oozes history, it was the saviour of the Berlin airlift. For those of you interested there's a web page with acres and acres of DC3's C47's and all it's many variants on: http://www.douglasdc3.com/photo/

Best to just bounce along on the turret then!

The problem with trailers......................

Read Max Hastings in today's Daily Mail.

Each year, as Remembrance Sunday approaches, a sense of dread tinged with annoyance becomes my lot. It's all to do with the poppy, and my refusal to wear one. The reason for this? Step forward Field Marshall Earl Haig, formerly, Sir Douglas Haig. Haig is depicted at the Cenotaph, on horseback, cast in bronze. Next time you watch the emotional pictures on your television screens of the march past that has become synonymous with the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, bear this in mind. If the dead of WW1 could march, side by side, in continuous procession down Whitehall, it would take them a four days and four nights to pass the saluting base. http://www.aftermathww1.com/clark.asp John Keegan's book: The First World War, describes a conflict of unprecedented ferocity, that ended the prosperity of The Victorian era, unleashing the demons of the twentieth century, mechanised warfare and mass death. Haig's mentality was entrenched in nineteenth century warfare, and with the feudal system: the ruling class ruled and everyone else knew their place. He saw the foot soldier as cannon fodder. Why else would he send wave after wave of brave hearted soldiers to a certain death, with a fixed bayonet against the machine guns of the Germans? This argument is much more eloquently put by PA Thomson in his book: Lions led by Donkeys. But it was the German Soldier, Max Hoffman who coined the expression, paraphrasing it from an earlier conquest, the Prussian victory at the siege of Paris in 1871. The Prussians described their foe as Lions led by Packasses. To me Haig's charity: The Haig Fund, that he started in 1921 had more to do with easing his conscience than it had to do with helping the destitute, war injured, British Serviceman. I have tried very hard to form a different opinion of Haig but even one his closest allies, friend and Brother Officer,John Charteris, who wrote the biography: "Field Marshall Earl Haig," finds it difficult to defend his calamitous actions. General Charteris served with Haig in India, at home in Aldershot and throughout WW1. This is not to say that I don't support The Royal Legion, and I certainly find the wearing of a white poppy repugnant. My Father and his brother were very close, only eighteen months apart in age. Uncle Roy was a bomber pilot, he gave the ultimate sacrifice in 1941, my father was captured on Crete in the same year, and spent the rest of the war as a POW. Their father, my Grandad, also gave his life, fire fighting in The Blitz. So this year, again, you won't see me wearing a poppy. But rattle your collection tin, it won't be ignored.

As a Robert, I can really relate to this. The Story of Uncle Bob The teacher gave her class an assignment. Ask their parents to tell them a tale with a moral at the end of it. The next day teacher asked Kathy if she had a tale to tell. "We bought a lot of eggs from the farmer's market, on the way home my Dad was forced to brake hard and quite a few eggs broke." "And the moral of your tale Kathy?" "Don't put all your eggs in one basket." "Well done, who else? What about you Lucy, have you got a tale to tell? "We were at the farmer's market too, we bought a dozen fertilized eggs to incubate, but we only got ten chicks from them." "And the moral of your story is what?" "Don't count your chickens before they are hatched." "Very good, well done indeed. Now, who else? How about you Jack?" "My Uncle Bob is in the Army, he was out in Basra, that's in Iraq. His helicopter was hit and he was forced to crash land in enemy territory. All he had was a bottle of whisky, a machine gun and a machete. He drank the whisky on the way down, so that the bottle wouldn't break, he then landed in the middle of 100 enemy troops. He killed 70 of them with the machine gun until he ran out of bullets, he then killed 20 more with the machete until the blade broke and then he killed the last 10 with his bare hands." "Good heavens," said the horrified teacher, "What kind of moral did your daddy tell you from that horrible story?" "You don't **** with my Uncle Bob when he's had a drink!"

Moving on, have you read: Tell me about the war? It's by Tony Channing. http://www.authorsden.com/visit/viewpoetry.asp?AuthorID=10470&id=152743

And Jack's either still at Up Ottery or nursing the week end's hangover. I wanted to go to that but one of my drivers contrived it otherwise. The joy of running your own business.