Deuce

Bah. Find both Hot Chicks in this picture. Happy belated birthday, Alana!

Fuque eu! Remterde! AND Bleu (ah, this French thing never gets old) If you entered the crosswalk when the indicator thingie was flashing, and not red, you legally crossed. In California, if you cross the "limit line" the white line that defines and intersection while the light is still yellow, you are legally crossing the intersection, even if you speed up (to the legal speed limit) to accomplish that goal. So, if you hurried up to enter the crosswalk in order to cross the street while the red hand was blinking, you should argue your case. I can honestly say that in 13 years on the job mostly in Oakland and San Francisco, that I never wrote a ticket for jaywalking. I did take some jaywalkers to prison for parole violations, but never wrote a "regular person" a ticket for jaywalking. Petty bullshit laws are great for collecting riffraff. I never bothered with them for "regular" people. An excuse to find wanted felons is a good thing. Using that excuse to generate revenue (it does) is petty nonsense. My attitude is responsible for me never working for the government again, so it does not prevail.

Water balloons then. Judge: Did you, or did you not cross the street against the light? WB: I don't understand the question, your emminence. Judge: There's a blinking light on the other side of the street, right next to those two lines that go across the street that you were walking in. It either had an image red hand showing, or a characature, kind of like a cartoon, zippy, of a green person walking. Was is showing the hand or the person walking? WB: Heck, worshipfullness, I have no idea! I was pretty busy trying to get to the island in the middle of the road, and with the UPS driver blasting on his horn and that retarded rent-a-cop waving his hands and shouting and everything I don't really remember if there was one of those signs at all. The first rule of breaking and rule or law is: Dont get caught. Rule two is: When caught, act contrite and beg forgiveness.

When the judge or commisioner asks you for your side of the story after the cop tells his, remember to start your spitting diatribe with these two words (-honest, I was a cop for a long time) "Listen Fucker!" It also helps if you reach into your jacket like you have a gun. The court people think it's funny and they laugh real hard every time. Honest.

Negative Ghostrider! I am not cryptic on the sauce! I'll try and get down to Perris for the bigway gig.

If this happens, kill me.

You're just being nice.

You are a wierd MotherFucker, but GirlFallDown pays attention to you, so I won't dismiss you out of hand. How are you? Everything OK?

Then I am truly fucked, Helicopter.....

What's up? I need an update! If you don't, just watch.

Nah. THIS is a bite! Swedish Vole bite. This picture is heinous. Don't open it if you are weak stomached. The jumper who had it is OK, and is jumping in the JFTC record attempt that's coming up. Don't let a bite get this bad before you take some action.

Holmes, I jump every suit. FF, RW, Birdman, Camera, and Tandem. If you think tandems don't count, you are insane. As to the cover, he looks like he is having fun, and that's number one, in my opinion. He also looks a little "short bus", but that's nitpicking.

Happy Birthday, beautiful lady!

I rode in BillVon and Amy's other electric car. I asked Amy if it had any "go" and she floored it. These light bars light up on either side of the speedo and I was pretty sure we were going to do that doppler light thing that the Millenium Falcon did. It was quick. And you can't help but feel superior to the other greenhouse gas spewing SUV pigs while in it. Like me.

Buy the Incredibles DVD. The short "Boundin" is worth it, and the making of it especially. Pink, pink? What's the matter with pink? Get your head in the right place, and hey, your complete! It's great happy, positive stuff!

'specially if he eats hard boiled eggs. nasty.

Yes. You are a genius.

Yeah, those are the best ones I have. Only the best for you! "(smelling flatulence) Dude! Time to change the Gerbil!"

I don't fear it either, Mare-bear. It's just so capricious. My police and military friends do crazy shit that just sometimes kills them in crazy ways. When we die young, that's how it's supposed to be. A good guy, who took care of himself and his family is not supposed to get snarfed up like this. He's not the first of my aquaintance, Jack Palmer was. A guy who thought the stuff he was cleaning his glasses with was giving him headaches, but it turned out he had brain cancer. I know you understand this Mary, thanks for sharing.

So? Time to change the Gerbil then? Did it smell like burnt sperm? Beano, baby! Beano !

I agree with Derek, here. (and I'm inclined to agree with him until somebody can prove his assertions wrong, which I think he would entertain as much as I would) I have the damn Cypres in both my rigs to deploy my highly loaded PDR143's in the case I can't. For whatever reason I can't get to my handles, I'm going to try and be stable, belly-to-earth at 750 feet at terminal velocity and I will expect the thingie to do it's duty. That's why I bought it (them). It's not the plan, not plan A, or plan B or even plan C, but plan OH SHIT! Know plan OH SHIT! and have it as a contingency.

And the tears finally come. Thanks Chuck. Very well said.

I went to his funeral just a little while ago. Born less than a month earlier than me, wife, two kids, same school, same religion, same ethics. Pancreatic cancer. One year. Start to finish. Physically, could have been my brother. Mixed Irish genes, hazel eyes, cocky swagger. Confident husband and father. A really good guy. Scoutmaster. We went to the Brownie father-daughter dances together. He knew he was dying, but kept a very masculine, positive front. I am not that masculine, usually. He was. His name was Brian Conway. He invited me to help him with Boy Scout campouts, but I never was able to find the time. We both talked about how I would like it, how it was different from the girl stuff I am involved with. I would have. I wish I had, but there wasn't the time, and I don't feel bad about that. My friends, you get old very, very fast. When and if you ever have children, your lives go into hyperdrive. FOOM! and you are on the PTA! As skydivers, we tend to be a little more ready to meet our maker. I am. My sport is dangerous, and may kill me, but I need that challenge, that's how God made me, and I hope I can meet it. I expect that I will die drowning in a puddle. If I don't, open cans of beer during the eulogy. Everybody is invited to the grave site after the calisthenics of a Catholic mass. And please have a keg at the wake. And have a big wake. One where the cops get called. And wave my old badge at them.

That's not faking. That's being a good lover. Just like a guy isn't "faking" when he doesn't just grab the headboard and charge home. Women can be on the freeway and just not find the off ramp. Guys know that. Helping us find the offramp is a generous thing. After we make every effort to get you off, or you decide you ain't going.

I rode in BillVon and Amy's other electric car. I asked Amy if it had any "go" and she floored it. These light bars light up on either side of the speedo and I was pretty sure we were going to do that doppler light thing that the Millenium Falcon did. It was quick. And you can't help but feel superior to the other greenhouse gas spewing SUV pigs while in it. Like me.