DYEVOUT

Interesting post, Tom. F.Y.I. That Adam Filippino guy had a very cool article written about him in Skydiving magazine from a couple months ago. ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

WOOOOOO, Flexibility is a biggie. As an unlicensed rookie, the only DZ's at which I've trained - fly only Cessna 182s & 185s. Just wadding yourself up (6'-2", 210), and jamming into those cool, little ships for the crowded ride to altitude can be a hassle. ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

Hey, Look These boobies have a job. ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

UMMMM This may be a little more appropriate. ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

Do you realize how silly it is for you to get your British undies in a wad over rental car procedures in a country in which you are not a citizen? Perhaps you could write the company, and get them to change the regulations (that were made before you were born). This topic would better be discussed in a different forum - maybe, like a Care Bears, or Beanie Babies chat room. ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

If one is a relatively intelligent individual, they realize the inherent risks in jumping out of an aircraft. Assuming the same individual has received some degree of training, they have signed papers for 15 minutes explaining that what they are about to do may seriously maim, or kill them. Be insured, live your life, and if you die - do it while your having fun. ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

"OH! That's the quit whining about being too young tax. " AMEN - Jesus Christ !! Is this a crybabies forum, or is it for people who skydive? I realize I'm only a rookie, but does this shit seem ridiculous to anyone but me? ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

Here, man. I hope it's not too late. Put something in your ears, these things are LOUD. ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

"Wouldn't it be poetic justice if the parts they stole were radioactive and fried their privates?" ------------------------------------------------------- Why am I thinking of farva beans and a nice Chianti? ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

The current Guiness World Record holder is Don Kellner, who has well over 33,000 jumps to date. He is a DZO at Above the Poconos Skydivers, in Hazleton, Pa. A cool DZ. ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

'whuffo you jump outta da airplane?' ---------------------------------------- The door was open, Wooooo Hooooo !! ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

If you name the kid Drake - he WILL be nicknamed "Duck" in high school - I've seen it happen. ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

move your cursor over the pic. http://home.chello.no/~siamak.javid/etc/NewAirportSecurity.swf ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

After so many successful missions, we tend to forget how dangerous their job is. Blue Ones to the families. ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

Oh, man That would reek !! Half the reason for the water is odor control. A healthy beer/sauerkraut load could potentially cost you your life, if it doesn't get underwater quick ! ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

forward: The Perfect Dump -- Every once in a while, each of us experiences a perfect dump, it's rare, but a thing of beauty in all respects. You sit down expecting the worst, but what you get is a smooth sliding, fartless masterpiece that breaks the water with the splashless grace of an expert diver. But that's not the end of it. You use some toilet tissue only to find that it was totally unnecessary. It makes you feel that all is right with the world and you are in perfect harmony with it. The Beer Dump -- Talk about nasty dumps. Depending on the dumper's tolerance, the beer dump is the end result of too many beers. it could have been 2 or 22, it doesn't matter. What you get is a sinister, lengthy, noisy dump accompanied by a malevolent fog that could close a bathroom for days. The Chili Dump - Hot when it goes in, and rocket fuel when it leaves. The chili dump stays with you all day, making your tush feel like a heat shield. The Cable Dump -- Long, curly and perfectly formed like 2 feet of E13 telephone CO-axial cable. It loops lazily around the bowl, like a friendly serpent. You wonder admiringly, ''DID I DO THAT? Where did it come from?'' you leave the bathroom pleased with yourself. The Latrine Dump -- In case you didn't know, a latrine is a hole in the ground with a tent around it where soldiers, boy scouts and flies go to dump. Tip: Don't ever, ever look in the hole. The Mona Lisa Dump -- This is the masterpiece of dumps. It's as perfectly formed as it can be. Delicate and slender with intricacies that would make da Vinci weep. And just think, you made it yourself. You may even want to break out the Polaroid, but maybe that's going a bit too far. The Empty Roll Dump - You're done...you reach for the toilet paper only to discover that empty cardboard cylinder. A mild panic begins coldly in your throat. You could use the curtains...no, someone would say ''Where are the curtains?'' Then what would you say? The rug?...too cumbersome. Then you must come to the same conclusion that every ''empty roll dumper'' must face...Pull up your slacks, tighten your tush and wriggle yourself to the nearest full roll. The Splash-Back Dump - You send the dump on its way, it drops like a depth charge into the bowl creating a column of cold bowl water that washes your bottom with a startlingly unpleasant shock. Now you're wet and embarrassed. Tip: Blot instead of wiping. The Aborted Dump - You are in mid-dump when the phone rings. What do you do? ABORT! Pinch it off, go for the phone, and save the rest for later. It isn't pretty, but you've gotta do what you gotta do. The Alfresco Dump -- Everyone has had to go outdoors from time to time. This can be a rather pleasant experience really. The open air, the nature, and a good bush all contribute to the peaceful ambiance that our primitive forefathers must have enjoyed. What can screw up this harmonious interlude is a troop of Brownies or a patch of poison ivy. The Childbirth Dump -- This is a dump that is simply too big to go through the aperture provided by nature for the purpose. You sit there, thinking over your dilemma. First it hurts, and it isn't going to get any better. You wonder if you'll ever see your loved ones again. You imagine the newspaper headlines screaming ''Man dies trying to hatch monster loaf.'' You realize you'll have to resolve the crisis before you can leave the bathroom. Basically there are only three things you can do: Scream, call an Obstetrician, or just hope like hell have enough Vaseline to get you through it. The Tijuana Trot Dump -- The phrase ''Shit Happens'' really applies here in a big way. When the ice in your tainted margarita makes contact with your lower intestinal tract, the fun begins. For the next 72 hours you'd be better off if you carried your own portable toilet with you because you will spend most of that time on the pot and the rest of the time in a fetal position. Now you realize why Mexico never had a navy. The Machine Gun Dump -- You're just sitting there in a state of sublime peace when all of a sudden you emit a group of noisy gassy bursts that break the silence like machine gun fire. The guy in the next stall hits the floor like a combat veteran, cradling his umbrella like an M16 and shrieking something about “damn Commies.” The Sound Effect Dump -- You feel a noisy one coming on. Relatives, friends or work mates are within earshot, so you must employ some clever techniques to cover the disgusting sounds you are about to emit. Timing is obviously very important here. At the precise moment of release, try the following sound effects: flush the toilet, sing the first two stanzas of your national anthem, or drop a handful of quarters on the floor The Security Dump -- You have enough on your mind when you're in the bathroom without worrying about a lockless door and someone bursting in to find you in mid-dump mode. So how can you prevent this embarrassing spectacle from taking place? One way is to strategically place your foot against the door. If you can't reach to do this... hum loudly. The Cling-On Dump -- For the most part you've completed your dump, but there's one little morsel that refuses to drop off. You're getting impatient. Someone else wants to use your stall. So, you grip the seat with both hands and wriggle, twist and pump but that last little stubborn piece just hangs there, suspended, clinging like a canned peach between you and the bowl water. Maybe the person pounding impatiently on the door has scissors. The Houdini Dump -- You go, then you stand up to flush, and the darn thing has disappeared. Where'd it go? Did it creep down the pipe? Did you dream the whole thing? Is it lurking out of sight? Should you wipe...maybe you should just to make sure you went. Should you flush? You'd better, because if you don't, you know it will reappear and smile at the next person who comes in. The Flu Dump -- You feel so bad that you don't know which end of you to put down first. You have roaring cramps, so you sit down. Then a wave of nausea rolls over you like a cold fog, so you stand up and cramps squeeze your intestines like a vice so you sit down again...up down up down. Don't you wish Mom were close by? The Porta-Pottie Dump -- Construction workers and outdoor concert goers will tell you about going in a portable toilet. My best description would be, “It's like taking a shit in an upright coffin.” It's claustrophobic and it smells bad... best advice... go in a paper cup. The Proctologist Dump -- In the beginning, the Lord created the earth, the sky and the firmament, but I hope he didn't create this dump, because there is nothing biblical about it -- you run out of gas. That's right, you run out of propulsion. The dump is right there at the end of your barrel and refuses to go any further. You grunt, you squeeze, you wriggle but it just stays there like a lump of lead. You've only got two choices here. One is to squeeze the damn thing back up your intestine and wait until next time. The other is to pretend you're a proctologist and go after it yourself. Not a pretty picture is it?? The Whole Roll Dump -- No matter how much you wipe, it doesn't seem to be enough. You blow the whole roll and you have to flush 25 times too. The whole episode is consumer waste. The Graffiti Dump -- You flush the dump and the swirling motion of the receding bowl water forces the dump to the porcelain sides, scraping a creative squiggle on its way down. You flush again but the curlicue hangs there...love it or leave it. Its your choice. The Encore Dump - Ahhhh, you're done, so you wipe, put yourself together, wash your hands and are about to vacate the bathroom when you feel another dump coming. You have to return for a curtain call. The world's record is seven encores. The Born Again Dump - This is a dump that's going so badly, you say “Lord, if I live through this, I'll take up religion.” You always get through it, but seldom keep the promise you made in desperation, because a born again dump is like childbirth... you forget the pain quickly. ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

It IS a percussion gun. ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

Definitely Mary Ann. and surprise! She isn't the grizzled hag I thought I'd find when I searched for a current photo. ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

Hey, I don't write this shit, I just forward it for laughs. . . . ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

Elton John. . . . . . . . Gay. . . . . No Way. . . . What Gives?. . . . . Next thing you know they'll say Christopher Lowell is gay. ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

We just finished dog-sitting a Golden Retriever (we do puppies for the Seeing Eye), Your post is 100% correct - he stole everything in sight. Very cool dog, though - I think Labs and Goldens have a lot in common. ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

I think you mean Yellow Labrador Retriever =8^] ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

Subject: AND YOU THINK YOU'RE HAVING A BAD DAY..... There was a case in one hospital's Intensive Care ward where patients always died in the same bed, on Sunday morning, at about 11 a.m., regardless of their medical condition. This puzzled the doctors and some even thought that it had something to do with the supernatural. No one could solve the mystery .. as to why the deaths occurred around 11 a.m. on Sundays. So a team of experts was assembled to investigate the cause of the incidents. The next Sunday morning, a few minutes before 11 a.m., doctors and nurses nervously waited outside the ward to see for themselves what the terrible phenomenon was all about. Some were holding wooden crosses, prayer books and other holy objects to ward off the evil spirits. Just when the clock struck 11... Pookie Johnson, the part-time Sunday sweeper, entered the ward and unplugged the life support system so that he could use the vacuum cleaner. Having a Bad Day? The average cost of rehabilitating a seal after the Exxon Valdez oil spill in Alaska was $80,000. At a special ceremony, two of the most expensively saved animals were being released back into the wild amid cheers and applause from onlookers. A minute later, in full view, a killer whale ate them both. Still think you are having a bad day? A woman came home to find her husband in the kitchen shaking frantically, almost in a dancing frenzy, with some kind of wire running from his waist towards the electric kettle. Intending to jolt him away from the deadly current, she whacked him with a handy plank of wood, breaking his arm in two places. Up to that moment, he had been happily listening to his Walkman. STILL think you're having a bad day? Two animal rights protesters were protesting at the cruelty of sending pigs to a slaughterhouse in Bonn, Germany. Suddenly, two thousand pigs broke loose and escaped through a broken fence, stampeding madly. The two hopeless protesters were trampled to death. What? STILL having a bad day? Iraqi terrorist Khay Rahnajet didn't pay enough postage on a letter bomb. It came back with "return to sender" stamped on it. Forgetting it was the bomb, he opened it and was blown to bits. There now, feeling better? ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

Iz dat vere you got zat helmet ?? ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."

EEEEEEEWWWWWWW, katz !! ----------------=8^)---------------------- "I think that was the wrong tennis court."