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Maggie’s Motivational Pic Thread v2.0 - - New Rules - See Post #1

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Damn, my Granddads 1952 Chevy Pickup. Wish I had it. His was 3 on the column, not on the floor.

What is this column you speak of? My Dad's Chevy Apache had a three on the tree. When the spring loaded antenna reached the passenger vent window, you shifted to second and when it was diagonal across the roll-down you shifted to high (not third). Who needs a tach?
 
That starter was painful on my barefoot when I was a kid. We started driving on the farm when we could reach the gas pedal.
When I was about twelve my Uncle sent me to Cardigan to get some bi carb. I could barely see over the dash of his ' 50 Mercury. When the Mounty pulled me over he knew who's car it was. He said follow him back to the farm. When we got there he told my Uncle the boy can't drive on the road John. They talked a little about local shit and the Mounty left. My Uncle told me to go get the bi carb. Great memories from those days.
 
They claim it made some flight crews vomit uncontrollably also.

I wonder if “whisper tips” like all the airboat blades, and a lot of prop blades have now would have helped much? the whole issue was do to tip speeds anyway.

Could be the photo, but the prop that close to the ground wouldn’t be helping noise either lol
 
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For those of you who were unable to attend the awards dinner during the annual [American Academy of Forensic Sciences] meeting in San Diego, you missed a tall tale on complex forensics presented by AAFS President Don Harper Mills in his opening remarks. The following is a recount of Dr. Mills’ story:



Read a good murder mystery lately? Not even Law and Order would attempt to
capture this mess. This is an unbelievable twist of fate! At the 1994
annual awards dinner given for Forensic Science (AAFS), President, Dr.
Don Harper Mills astounded his audience with the legal complications
of a bizarre death.

Here is the story:

On March 23, 1994, the medical examiner viewed the body of Ronald
Opus, and concluded that he died from a shotgun wound to the head.

Mr. Opus had jumped from the top of a ten-story building intending to
commit suicide. He left a note to the effect indicating his
despondency. As he fell past the ninth floor, his life was
interrupted by a shotgun blast passing through a window, which killed
him instantly.

Neither the shooter nor the deceased was aware that a safety net had
been installed just below the eighth floor level to protect some
building workers, and that Ronald Opus would not have been able to
complete his suicide the way he had planned.

The room on the ninth floor, where the shotgun blast emanated, was
occupied by an elderly man and his wife. They were arguing vigorously
and he was threatening her with a shotgun! The man was so upset that
when he pulled the trigger, he completely missed his wife, and the
pellets went through the window, striking Mr. Opus.

When one intends to kill subject ‘A' but kills subject 'B' in the
attempt, one is guilty of the murder of subject 'B.'

When confronted with the murder charge, the old man and his wife were
both adamant, and both said that they thought the shotgun was not
loaded. The old man said it was a long-standing habit to threaten his
wife with the unloaded shotgun. He had no intention to murder her.
Therefore the killing of Mr. Opus appeared to be an accident; that is,
assuming the gun had been accidentally loaded.

The continuing investigation turned up a witness who saw the old
couple's son loading the shotgun about six weeks prior to the fatal
accident. It transpired that the old lady had cut off her son's
financial support and the son, knowing the propensity of his father to
use the shotgun threateningly, loaded the gun with the expectation
that his father would shoot his mother.

Since the loader of the gun was aware of this, he was guilty of the
murder even though he didn't actually pull the trigger. The case now
becomes one of murder on the part of the son for the death of Ronald
Opus.

Now comes the exquisite twist...

Further investigation revealed that the son was, in fact, Ronald
Opus. He had become increasingly despondent over the failure of his
attempt to engineer his mother's murder. This led him to jump off the
ten-story building on March 23rd, only to be killed by a shotgun blast
passing through the ninth story window. The son, Ronald Opus, had
actually murdered himself. So the medical examiner closed the case as
a suicide.

A true story from Associated Press.

SINCE THIS CAME FROM THE ASSOCIATED PRESS, IT PROBABLY A LIE BUT STILL INTERESTING
 
Damn right.
Real men drink Michelob.
View attachment 7689357
I've said it before and I'll say it again. This is what I was told when I was young and I've never forgotten it.

"Men who drink Michelob Ultra moan when they wipe their ass."

I didn't drink for long, but decided to stop when I was drinking big cups of liquor on ice lol
 
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I've said it before and I'll say it again. This is what I was told when I was young and I've never forgotten it.

"Men who drink Michelob Ultra moan when they while their ass."

I didn't drink for long, but decided to stop when I was drinking big cups of liquor on ice lol

Well you drank likker with ice, so I reckon you'd know about anal moaning type shit.
 
@akmike47
Actually its funny you said moonshine....

Was at my neighbors month or so back....
He has a White claw in his hand.
I make my best, "dude, you aint turning fag on me" face. Then I say, "Dude, you aint turning fag on me are ya?"
He hands it to me, says try it....I start having flashbacks about the time I was trying to buy high end optics like Tyrone Biggums in the Walmart bathroom...
I take a sip.
"Damn, that's pretty fucking good! I didn't know they were that friggin strong."
So he pulls another out of the cooler, grabs a gallon jug of "water" out of the toolbox. Dumps about a third of the White claw on the ground, tops it back up with that "water" from the jug.
"Heah, drink thisun."
Yeah....they pretty damn good topped up with "toolbox water".
 
@akmike47
Actually its funny you said moonshine....

Was at my neighbors month or so back....
He has a White claw in his hand.
I make my best, "dude, you aint turning fag on me" face. Then I say, "Dude, you aint turning fag on me are ya?"
He hands it to me, says try it....I start having flashbacks about the time I was trying to buy high end optics like Tyrone Biggums in the Walmart bathroom...
I take a sip.
"Damn, that's pretty fucking good! I didn't know they were that friggin strong."
So he pulls another out of the cooler, grabs a gallon jug of "water" out of the toolbox. Dumps about a third of the White claw on the ground, tops it back up with that "water" from the jug.
"Heah, drink thisun."
Yeah....they pretty damn good topped up with "toolbox water".


If he asks if you want to go camping....I suggest you take a pass.

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I was allegedly given a jug once made by a guy with an animal name from Kentucky so you know it was good shit lol


Someone made me taste a red white and berry Smirnoff once, Shits sprite.
 
I should proofread when I post from my phone, had to edit all my post today because of the damn auto incorrect lol
 
@akmike47
Actually its funny you said moonshine....

Was at my neighbors month or so back....
He has a White claw in his hand.
I make my best, "dude, you aint turning fag on me" face. Then I say, "Dude, you aint turning fag on me are ya?"
He hands it to me, says try it....I start having flashbacks about the time I was trying to buy high end optics like Tyrone Biggums in the Walmart bathroom...
I take a sip.
"Damn, that's pretty fucking good! I didn't know they were that friggin strong."
So he pulls another out of the cooler, grabs a gallon jug of "water" out of the toolbox. Dumps about a third of the White claw on the ground, tops it back up with that "water" from the jug.
"Heah, drink thisun."
Yeah....they pretty damn good topped up with "toolbox water".
1629676205685.jpeg
 
This isn't motivational but more of a psa. wtf is wrong with peoples damn kids?

I'm out fishing and a little bastard tried to take my pole out of my hands and lures out of my backpack I was wearing....

Whoop your damn kids