This is pretty cool. Canadians in Afghanistan. Dig it.

Pretty cool footage. I get a big kick out if watching them shoot those AT-4s and RPGs, and the Afghan dudes raising their Kalashnikovs over the walls and sprayin' lead. It looks like a lot of fun. Ok, I know they're pissin' their pants and somebodies dyin', but it LOOKS like a huge load of fun from here. They look just like yanks, till the end when the one dude starts talkin', pronouncing the words "rounded" and "house".

If I'd been a bit more mature at the time, I think I would have gotten a huge enjoyment as a kid at being in the military and blowing shit up for a living. But when I was the right age to go in, I was basically a big baby. Mama's boy, big time. Hell, I'm still a big mama's boy. Ask anybody. Maybe joining up would have matured me. Don't know. I think I probably would have snapped like the dude in Full Metal Jacket, but maybe not. At the time I figured I'd just gotten out of high school, which was filled with assholes who tried to push me around, and joining the military would just put me back in the ring for another four years. I didn't have a lot of confidence. If I'd known then what I know now, about taking care of myself, and dealing with retrograde assholes, and a lot of other things, I think I would have had a great time.

As I get older, hearing the stories told by other older guys who served in one capacity or another, it seems clear that serving was the defining experience that a few generations of guys in America had in common. I work with guys on the base who are almost all vets, from Vietnam and Korea, as well as our various other "police actions". It seems from listening to their stories, whether they were drafted or volunteered, serving was their Sun Dance ceremony, ritually bringing them to adulthood and manhood. Of course, most men in the country never had to serve, but our literature and movies would seem to indicate that by avoiding it, they've missed out on something profound. Something that allows one to discover deeper things about oneself, as you usually do when you are tested. I guess I'm saying that I'm afraid that I've missed out on something profound by avoiding the test.

Beyond that, I think it can become a problem when the nations population becomes increasingly divided between those who have served and those who haven't, and who don't understand the military. There seems to be a disconnect now between the men and women and their families who volunteer to serve, and much of the rest of the population. There seems to be a large number of people who think the soldiers are just dropouts who can't keep a real job, or poor people who have no other way of getting an education, or adolescent war lovers who just want to blow something up.

People don't realize what a professional soldier is, and what his or her family goes through to stick with it. People think it's all about free college and meds and a fat retirement check. I've been around it all my life, and I've seen each service up close. Spent the first half of my life as an Air Force brat, living on or around air bases around the world. Then I spent four years "boating" with the Navy and Marines, teaching college classes on the ships. Now I'm about 12 years into a gig teaching soldiers on a huge army base here in Texas. I've seen them deal with all kinds of real shit up close. Hell, even some of the kids down in Florence are Army brats, with parents serving overseas.

Over the space of time that I've been here, I've seen them deploy, and come back from deployments, only to be told they have to go again. I've seen them deal with everything from being alone during pregnancy, to messages from the other side of the world telling them that their spouse, uncle, or father has been killed in action. I saw people die in training accidents on the ships; a whole helicopter full of Marines once, and another Marine once, run over and killed by a truck on a landing ship. It busted loose from it's chains and ran him over in the well deck as others jumped out of the way. he just wasn't quick enough. Imagine finding out that your son died during peace time, run over by a truck on a ship, in the middle of the Persian Gulf.

One of the last ships I taught on was the USS Arleigh Burke, a new kind of destroyer that was designed to be more stealthy, with a very cool radar system and lots of missiles. We floated along in the Mediterranean, serving in the battle group that was supporting the USS Theodore Roosevelt. Once in the middle of the night, a sailor was blown off the carrier by jet wash. We searched all through the night and into the morning, but all they found were bits of his gear, and vary large sharks swimming around. Hell, he probably died from the fall.

Kids die here at Ft. Hood all the time, in training accidents, helicopter crashes, and driving to and from the base. They call the main highway to and from Austin The Highway Of Death, for that very reason. It's dangerous shit, being a warrior, even at home, and even between the wars. We hear how many have died in Iraq, but that number pales when compared to the number who die just going to work every day.

So when I see a video like this one, I see the professionalism of these guys and it gives me a huge charge. They know their shit, and they can only succeed if the assholes back here will get out of their way. As in Vietnam, they're so good at what they do, so well trained, they can only be defeated by their own side, and their own leaders, or a shitty battle plan or strategy. I think it would have been a blast serving in that sort of fraternity. Band of brothers, and all that stuff, but it wasn't in the cards.

Once, on a summer road trip up to Ohio to visit the Air Force Museum, the family drove through Ft. Knox, Kentucky. Mom and dad wanted to see the gold depository, but I was dying to check out the Patton Museum and all the tanks. LOVE tanks. Dad knew I had fantasies about serving in one, and worked on me to discourage the idea. He told me as we were driving through the base to look at all the enlisted guys sweeping and mowing and picking up garbage and getting yelled at. He knew how much I enjoyed that sort of shit around the house. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps.

I tried it out for a while. Two years of Air Force ROTC in college. Got sick of what seemed like the fakeness and politics of it, marching in the parking lot at TCU one day a week and playing soldier. Watching a few guys get ahead by kissing the ass of the detachment commander, as if they were grooming themselves to one day serve as staff twerps for some general. I think I realized that my dads Air Force, the seat-of-the-pants, Curtis Lemay Air Force of all my fathers great stories, really didn't exist any more. I found out that my eyes were going bad in the second year, and pilot training was out. Had ideas about flying an A-10. Blow up tanks if I can't be in one. But the eyes changed all that. They started telling me I could be a navigator, or I could be a commissary officer. None of that sounded as good to me at the time. I decided in stead to take a different path, and decades later, here I am.

I've been around the military all my life. Got to fly in a few of their planes, float around on a few of their ships, and found a way to have a great time, without having to put up with the crap. But I still have moments when I hear guys telling hilarious stories, or harrowing stories, and I find myself filled with envy, and think about what might have been. I probably should stop doing that.

Just a little live fire training in Iraq.

First, go to the Brown Valley Kingdom and read an excellent post on the May Day protests. He lays it out better than I could ever do.

Now, dig this little video showing some serious training in Iraq. Something tells me these are private security guards, and NOT the regular army. It's piss your pants time, seriously.



A South African instructor, getting a guy ready for what it's like in actual combat. Man, I get stressed just watchin' it.

I think the oldest diplomatic notion is "the enemy of my enemy is my friend". Lets hope it works.

Lets hope our new pacifist congress gives it a chance to work.

So, has the recent weather caused you to think again?

Here's a British documentary on Global Warming that has some folks all a twitter. Judge for yourself. It lasts about an hour and sixteen minutes, so grab some popcorn, but if you're a sceptic you'll love it, I promise.

I've got a mission.

Talked to my neighbor the other day. He's a grizzled old vet, Korea and Nam, in a wheel chair from some sort of crud that he picked up after getting out (maybe). Conversation on a recent gun show moved to old times, and he tells me that he's still got the knife he used on the first man he ever killed, in Korea. Ran into a North Korean in the middle of the night. One walked away. I ask him if the bayonet was on the end of his rifle at the time and he says "Nope". Cool! Tells me he's got the knife but no sheath. I tell him they are easy to find. He asks me to see if I can find one. His wife brings the thing out wrapped in foam, secured with tape. Hands it to me like an old religious icon. I take it out of the foam and check it out. Dig it.



Typical M-4 bayonet, manufactured by Pal Cutlery some time during WW2 or Korea. Someone really fucked up the cutting edge, but maybe that's what soldiers do in war, sharpening the standard issue stuff that probably arrives blunt as hell. I dunno. All I know is what he's told me. Would LOVE to get the thing tested to see if there's still any Korean DNA on it. Seriously, it looks like something some stupid kid picked up at a dime store and tried to sharpen with a brick.
Started looking on the web today, sites I know about, and found one place that had the right sort of sheath, but they were out of stock. I'll keep lookin'. I'm on a mission.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Update: Found the sheath online and ordered it. It'll be here in a week or so. Can't wait to go over and hand it all back to him. Fun.

Alright dammit, this is top secret family shit, so take notes. This tape will self distruct in 5 minutes.

First Mr Phelps, lets talk chicken. Buy whatever pieces you like to eat. I'm partial to dark meat (don't go there). Whatever you get should be skinless. Bones are Ok, but they sell boneless, skinless pieces now (breasts and thighs) and those are a lot more convenient to eat.

Yer gonna marinade these pieces over night in the fridge. Mom's traditional recipe calls for washing the pieces and then salting them down generously. She can't say how much. It's one of those trial and error things where she learned from her mom, who learned from her mom. Salt it down good and leave it in the fridge over night. Personally, I think you could exchange the salt for any sort of strong seasoning that you like. I've marinated the stuff in Italian dressing or BBQ sauce, and I think it was pretty good. Just not the same as moms. Another thing, use kosher salt rather than the stuff we all grew up with. It has a much better flavor, and you won't have to use as much.

When the time comes to cook it, you'll need a can of condensed milk, a few eggs, more seasoning, and a pan of flour. You mix a few egg yokes into the milk in a dish (not the white, but the yoke only), and season the flour with pepper and whatever else you like (Mom puts more salt). Heat up your oil to a pretty high level. If the oil isn't hot enough the chicken will take forever to cook and impart an oily taste to the food.



When I was growing up, mom used to cook everything in a skillet. When they started coming out with these little Fry Daddies, she fell in love with them. She's tried big industrial looking fryers with baskets that you dip down into the oil, but she says these little things work the best. They prevent you from putting too many pieces in the oil at once, which apparently leads to an oily taste in the food. Takes too much heat out of the oil when you put them in and forces you to leave the pieces in the oil longer, or somethin'.

Now here's the serious shit: Take a piece of chicken out of the marinade (DO NOT wash off the marinade), dip it in the flour and give it a decent covering. Shake off the excess, and then dip it into the whipped milk/egg mixture. Now, dip it back in the flour and press it in, giving it a good covering. You can see in the shot above that she leaves the pieces in the flour till they are ready to fry. Fry them till they are golden brown, and then take them out, lay them on a paper towel and let them cool a bit. When you bite into this stuff, I swear to God, if you've done it right, you'll experience something akin to nirvana. The Buddha himself would have got his ass up and taken on a carnivorous nature if his momma had known how to cook this stuff. He'd a put on some real pounds then. If you do it right, you'll end up with somethin' like this.



Ok, now for the ice cream. Here's the ingredients: 9 - 10 eggs, whipped in a blender, 2 quarts of half and half, 1 or 2 cans of Eagle Brand sweetened milk, 1 large box of instant vanilla Jello pudding, 1 large box of peach or strawberry Jello (depending on what sort of ice cream you're making), fruit pieces (peaches or strawberries, or whatever other ingredients you want), cut up and whipped in the blender. This part is up to you. If you want to have big pieces of fruit in the ice cream, then don't whip it as thoroughly. Finally, add 1 cup of sugar. Sweeten it to taste. Up to you.

Ok, mix most of this stuff in the blender, adding the fruit a little at a time until it's liquefied. Add the sweetened milk with regular milk to fill the blender (half at a time). Once it's liquefied, empty it into a mixing bowl and begin again. Make enough to fill your ice cream maker to about two inches from the top. It'll expand a bit in the freezing process.



Pour the mixture into the ice cream container, place it in the bucket, making sure it sits properly on the little spindle at the bottom of the bucket. Attach the lid and the motor, and start filling the bucket with ice and rock salt. You want to make sure you don't let the salty runoff from this process get into the ice cream. THAT shit will ruin your day. Most if not all the buckets have a hole to allow only a certain water level to prevent this, but you can still accidentally get some salt on the top of the ice cream if you open the can prematurely. So be careful. Run the ice cream maker till it stops turning on its own.

If you have a cheap machine, you might experience a problem with the ice cream next to the side of the can freezing and stopping the paddles, stripping the gears of the machine. In this case, the machine never stops. While the ice cream next to the ice freezes, the mixture on the inside never does. If that happens, you're not totally screwed. You can take the paddles out and scrape the frozen ice cream into the mixture and start again. Been through that a few times. That shit will also ruin your day, so don't scrimp on the machine. You get what you pay for.



When the machine stops, unplug the motor and take it off , being careful not to let the lid of the ice cream can come off in the process. Reach unto the ice on both sides of the can and pull the can up a bit to allow ice to fall in under it. Then wipe off the lid before you open it to prevent salt from getting into the ice cream. The can will sit there on its own, and you can pop the top and enjoy the "fruits" of your labour.



Mom and I hope you all do well and enjoy the goods. I hope we've given you the info you need to join my family in the long standing traditions of obesity, high cholesterol, and heart disease. Seriously though, what the fuck. Life is to be lived! Ya gotta die of something. I plan to go with a thigh in one hand a maybe a leg in the other, If ya know what I mean. Enjoy.

Started a new semester yesterday, after a good week off and a very pleasant weekend.

I started four new classes on base this week, as well as a new online class. I've got about 45 people in each of my lunchtime history classes (11:30-12:30 and 12:30-1:30 every day), with more wanting in them every day, and I've got about 30 to 35 people in each of the two government classes in the evening (7:30 to 10pm M/W and T/Th). A lot of the folks in my lunchtime classes took the other half of the history last time and are back again. It was like old home week when I walked in the first day. Lots of laughs. Most of my students are soldiers or retired soldiers or family/dependants. The online class has only 17 people in it, but it might grow. I'll be working on that one this week, trying to come up with new exams. I may eventually use those new exams in the conventional classes too. Spring them on the folks in the evening classes on base. I LOVE test day!

Anyway, this last Spring Break was a great time off. It started with two nights and good times at Sweetwater.



That was a great trip, with great friends and lots of great food.

Then on Wednesday, I took a trip to Ft. Worth to spend the day and have dinner with some other, older friends. I've known this guy for about 20 years, and his wife since they got together about 15 years ago.



We've been on a dozen or so hiking and/or canoe trips, and these are the folks I rafted the Colorado with in 03 and 05. Click on the link over at FlickR to check out more of those shots.

The week was rounded off with a fabulous Sunday, beginning with a trip in the morning to Austin to walk through a gun show (resulting in the acquisition of a new toy), and then a trip up to Temple to eat southern fried chicken and home made peach ice cream at moms, and ended with two awesome episodes of Rome back to back on HBO at my sisters place in Belton. That was a full day.

I walked into the gun show thinking it was about time for somethin' to happen. I was officially designated as legal and dangerous by the great state of Texas a while back, but I had yet to pop the cherry on the old CHP card. I needed to get it over with. The main reason why I wanted one of these things is because it allows the holder to buy new toys without having to go through a potentially tedious background check every time. You're considered preapproved due to the check they do on you before they give you the card. It makes for a very convenient purchasing experience, so I was lookin' forward to my first time.

I walked into the place and found an old guy I'd bought several things from in the past. He's always situated with his table right there at the door. He builds very nice rifles from a mixture of foreign and American made parts. His manufacturing standards are high, and his stuff usually includes things that you don't necessarily find elsewhere. He also has a cute little pug dog that he brings up to the shows from Houston. It snoozes there on a pillow under the table. I grew up with pugs, so it's sometimes hard to tell whether I'm more excited to see the pooch or the firepower.

Anyway, it's cool when you find what you want right off the bat and then get to walk through the place for an hour and see if you can come up with anything better. The excitement builds to a crescendo. I walked by, got his attention and pointed to one rifle, saying "don't sell that one till I get back". He smiled and nodded in recognition, then turned back to his other customer as I walked on.

I walked out of there about 30 minutes later with a bright, shiny new M 70 (Yugoslavian version of the AKM, built on an American receiver).



It has a thicker receiver giving it a more sturdy shooting platform. Early AK-47s had milled receivers (like an SKS), and were steadier and more accurate shooters. A normal late model AK has a stamped receiver, and many have a problem with the receiver warping during sustained firing. This one doesn't do that quite as much because the receiver wall is thicker, and so it has a reputation for being a more accurate shooter. I just think they're cool as hell, and I've wanted one for a while. Many of the ones I've seen on the market have been thrown together imports or ridiculously expensive pre-ban guns. This one was the best of both worlds; well built and affordable. Couldn't believe my good fortune. I threw it in the trunk and zipped back up north towards home, giddy like a little girl.

I stopped briefly at Rudy's BBQ in Roundrock to pick up some Jalapeno sausage and creamed corn. Mmmmmm! I'll eat off that stuff all week long. I needed to be at Mom's by 3:30 so I could put the Ice cream maker together and get it started. Mom makes the cream and then gets me to taste it to see if it is sweet enough.



She pours it into the cylinder, which I then place in the wooden bucket. I attach the motor, pour in the ice and rock salt, and set the thing to turning, refilling the ice and salt as needed.

The routine for doing this is probably in my DNA. I remember when I was a kid and my job was to sit on the thing while my dad cranked it. It was a sign of growing up when I shifted to cranking and took over that job. It was SO COOL when they put a motor on that bastard. The ice cream tastes just as good without the sore arm. Mom's chicken is famous with everyone I know. Has been for as long as I can remember (you may need to put some sort of plastic sheeting over your keyboard to ketch the drool from looking at these pictures... fair warning).



She's got it down to a science. It's actually amazingly easy to make, but it never tastes like moms when I do it myself. What can you say. After about 20 minutes, the ice cream maker shuts down, indicating that the ice cream is frozen, and I bust it open, lift the cylinder up out of the ice, and parcel out the portions.



I've inherited all these duties from dad, who sits back now and waits for his plate. Mom gets the first plate, of course, and dad is second.



He sits in his TV chair and usually feeds a bit of chicken to one of the cats. Their new dog now gets her share along with the others. He's a pushover. Don't know where this guy came from, 'cause the guy that raised me was a cold hearted son-of-a-bitch. I guess we all mellow with time. Sis gets the third plate, and I get the last. There's a method to this madness. Just in case yer thinkin' "Aw, what a nice guy", it turns out the sweetest ice cream is always in the bottom of the bowl. It just so happens. Total coincidence.

After everyone's had their fill, I start the dishes soaking in the sink...



And then its relax, maybe nap, loosen the belt and let the belly expand. The queen retires to her easy chair, and I eventually drive home with my share of the spoils.



A good time was had by all. At one point in the process I was talking with sis about the two upcoming episodes of Rome. She said that we'd probably get to see Mark Antony in the buff, suckin' on a huka (she has the hots for James Purefoy).



I said, innocently, that we'll probably also get to see him fall on his sword. She erupted in outrage. How dare I spoil it for her. I'm like, "didn't you see that movie a dozen times?" I don't think you can really be accused of divulging things that should be common fuckin' knowledge. Jebus, you silly cow. Read a book sometime.

We watched the two episodes back to back, and it was as good as I was expecting it would be. Can't wait for the end, but hate to see it come. I think about how they could continue the series and show us their HBO version of the whole Julian drama. But that's already been done so well in the old BBC series I, Claudius, so I doubt they'll go there.



Too bad. It would be fun to watch our two boys get old and live through some cool history.

Well, that was my week. Now the grind has begun again. It looks like rain all week, and I'm desperately needing to pull weeds and do laundry. And yet here I sit. Well It's late, and it all starts again early in the morning, so enjoy the read, and don't slobber too much on yerself lookin' at the food. Later.

Found a very interesting blog out there.

Go to this site and check this guy out. He's got an amazing little video for you to watch, "Living With Snipers", if you scroll down a bit.



You would also do well to go to American Citizen Soldier and read this. Enjoy. And just for jollys, go to the astronomy site and click on this cool little video of the moon crossing in front of the sun.

Sorry, but this image is just too hilarious not to share.

It's the look in his eyes, and those dirty little fingers, and that ridiculously fat neck... and the serene look of pleasure on Barbi's face. What a hilarious image.


So, what would you call it if someone got sexual gratification from ticklin' Barbi's cooter?

Ever notice the difference between the ways men and women do basic things, like showering?

So guys, do we all pee in the shower? And what about the ladies?

The genious of invention; taking something ordinary and turning it into something exciting.

Check this out. Someone took an old trimmer and turned it into... well, what the hell would you call this? A new, loud, tricky form of locomotion. Can't really say it's environmentally friendly, but I bet the wipe outs are fun to watch.

Now, speakin' of weird technology, someone please explain this little gizmo to me. What the hell? Some sort of containment issue? An incubator of some sort? NASA astronauts or deep sea divers going through some sort of decompression? You tell me.

Oh yea, it's also Fatty Friday, so click on this if you feel you need to. Not quite sure what the funnel is for. Don't really wanna know ether. On the other hand, don't even think about clickin' on this one. It looks VERY painful to me. I wouldn't go there if I were you.

A word from some of the guys in the field.

With all the non-binding resolutions, bilious pontifications, and stupid chest thumping being tossed around these days, I think It's relevant to hear what at least a few soldiers think. I actually hear this sort of sentiment a lot on the base, from soldiers in my classes and older retired Vietnam vets that I work with.



Couldn't say it better. Ether pull 'em out or go all the way. No half-assed bullshit. Not again.

Ok, this is cool, and hilarious.

Ever feel horny after a big satisfyin' feed?



Natures wonders in action. Love it, but that one dude sitting on the dead whale is a crazy bastard. There's no fuckin' way. Hilarious.

Pooped. It's the end of another week, and you know what that means.

30,000 years ago this was the acme of beauty and bounty, so far as we can tell. The one on the left is called the Venus of Lespague, found in 1922 in a cave in the foothills of the Pyrenees. Now she's got some junk in the trunk. This specimen was damaged during excavation, with the huge droopy breasts being broken off. Here's a few images of this one, and another frontal shot of a complete statue.

Most of them have the typical heavy set, pendulous breasts, featureless face, in fact I think the figurines are usually headless. The one below was found in Austria. She's called the Venus of Wallendorf. Both are thought to be around 25,000 to 30,000 years old. Nice cans eh?

They've found these little statues all over the old world, and think they had something to do with fertility, or a bountiful harvest, or maybe just the notion of wealth and plenty in societies that probably suffered regularly from seasonal famines and scarcity. Of course, nowadays we don't attach the same meanings to things. Most would say, confronted by such an image...




Damn, it looks like another edition of Big Fat Floppy Tittied Friday.



That's right, it's another Friday, and you've just been suckered into the inappropriate zone. God love her, she still gets out there. You know she's got to have back pain from hell.

I used to read how researchers thought all these statues represented an exagerated immage of women. It occurs to me, maybe all those little statues they've been finding showing the "Neolithic Venus", in the same visage over and over, were just the neolithic version of Fatty Friday? Maybe they were passed around the fire by generations of neolithic hunter-gatherers who farted, scratched themselves and grunted something like "Dude, check this one out. Gnarly. Ride the wave man. Ride the wave". Maybe?

What ya wanna bet...

The intrepid astronaut babe charged with allegedly trying to kill her love rival will claim temporary insanity due to severe diaper rash. Eh? Had a load in her shorts for hundreds of miles. You know that had to hurt.

Found something hilariously fun, and quite therapeutic.

Check this game out. It's called "Whack Your Boss", "whack" being the mob term for doing in whatever mind numbing Imp of Satan that may be dragging your life down from 9 to 5. It's an awesome distraction.

Whack Your Boss

They give you fifteen objects with which to "Whack" the boss. Click "begin" on the opening page, wait for the boss to come into this guys cubicle and start giving him shit (make sure the volume is up), and then use your mouse to search around for the objects that become highlighted. Click on one of those objects, and then just sit back and giggle. Click on "Cleaner" to get another chance at another bloody whacking. There are fifteen objects, and you win if you manage to find them all. The scissors are my personal favorite. Come on. We've all had these daydreams from time to time. Enjoy.

Found something interesting on YouTube.

The Mexican military on maneuvers in Northern Mexico, showing a mix of western and Soviet/Russian weapons, all feverishly preparing in the event of an invasion from the north. Now, I realize that such as thing has happened in the past (1840s), but what's the likelihood that it would ever happen again? I mean, that whole Manifest Destiny thing is a bit played out, isn't it?



All countries have plans and maneuvers to train for different contingencies, but did you make out the Generals comment there near the end? He insinuates that they are preparing for a spread out, Iraq style insurgent resistance in case of a US invasion. What the Hell? What exactly do you think they are preparing for? I guess we've shown everyone what our weaknesses are over there. Maybe he was just coming up with an answer to some journalists question concerning the obvious superiority in firepower north of the border. He's gotta come up with something right? Postscript - Looking at it again, I think he's just saying that the Mexican Army has to be prepared for the same sort of fighting we're dealing with in Iraq, I guess.

Thing is, from what we hear, the drug gangs in the north of Mexico are about as well armed as the Mexican army, so maybe they should be preparing for that and stop thinking about re-fighting the battle of Buena Vista. Grab a big hunk of reality hombre. The person who posted the video claims in the blurb that Mexico is about to take possession of new Russian Su-27 fighters. Those will come in handy when they have to bomb the Zapatista rebels again some day, right?

Anybody ever hear of this guy?

The caption of this video should've been "What a dumbass!"



Nice work on the cunard fins. Wonder how much time they spent on those, thinkin' "yea, this'll be the ticket". Aaaah, the 70s.

This is awesome.

This is one of those things where you know just lookin' at it that no good can come from it, but you'll be amazed.



Looks like fun. No, hell no. My luck, the thing would sling me up and over into the ground. This is why they outlawed lawn darts, right? Keep the kids "safe".