Lets make Friday 'Joke Day'!

Justice in Green Bay, Wi. (AP) - A seven-year old boy was at the center of a Green Bay, WI. courtroom drama yesterday when he challenged a court ruling over who should have custody of him. The boy has a history of being beaten by his parents and the judge initially awarded custody to his aunt, in keeping with child custody law and regulation requiring that family unity be maintained to the highest degree possible.

The boy surprised the court when he proclaimed that his aunt beat him more than his parents and he adamantly refused to live with her. When the judge then suggested that he live with his grandparents, the boy cried and said that they also beat him.

After considering the remainder of the immediate family and learning that domestic violence was apparently a way of life among them, the judge took the unprecedented step of allowing the boy to propose who should have custody of him.

After two recesses to check legal references and confer with the child welfare officials, the judge granted temporary custody to the Green Bay Packers Football Team, whom the boy firmly believes are not capable of beating anyone.
 
This city fella moves out to the country. He decides he wants a mule, so he buys one from the farmer down the road for $100. The mule dies the next day. The city fella calls the farmer and tells him what happened - the farmer tells him he'll give him his money back and come get the dead mule, but the city guy says, "no, I'll keep him". The farmer wants to know what he's going to do with a dead mule, and the city guy says he'll raffle him off. The farmer doesn't know who's going to want to buy a ticket for a dead mule but says "ok".

A couple of weeks later the farmer sees the city guy and asks him how it went. The city guy says he sold 100 tickets for $5 each. The farmer asked, "didn't anyone complain about the mule being dead?" The city guy said, "Just the winner." The farmer wanted to know what he did about that....






"I gave him his $5 back!" :D :D :D
 
Defense Attorney:
Will you please state your age?

Little Old Lady:
I am 86 years old.

Defense Attorney:
Will you tell us, in your own words, what happened the night of April 1st?

Little Old Lady:
There I was, sitting there in my swing on my front porch on a warm spring evening,
when a young man comes creeping up on the porch and sat down beside me..

Defense Attorney:
Did you know him?

Little Old Lady:
No, but he sure was friendly..

Defense Attorney:
What happened after he sat down?

Little Old Lady:
He started to rub my thigh.

Defense Attorney:
Did you stop him?

Little Old Lady:
No, I didn't stop him.

Defense Attorney:
Why not?

Little Old Lady:
It felt good. Nobody had done that since my Albert died some 30 years ago..

Defense Attorney:
What happened next?

Little Old Lady:
He began to rub my breasts.

Defense Attorney:
Did you stop him then?

Little Old Lady:
No, I did not stop him..

Defense Attorney:
Why not?

Little Old Lady:
His rubbing made me feel all alive and excited. I haven't felt that good in years!

Defense Attorney:
What happened next?

Little Old Lady:
Well, by then, I was feeling so 'spicy' that I just laid down and told him
'Take me, young man. Take me now!'

Defense Attorney:
Did he take you?

Little Old Lady:
Hell, no! He just yelled, 'April Fool!'

Defense Attorney:
And is that when you shot him?

Little Old Lady:
Yes, that's when I shot him, the little bastard...
 
Giving Weird Al a run for his money:

(this is the funniest thing I've seen in a long time! Original video, new words...)

 
On a bitterly cold winter's day several years ago in northern British Columbia,
an RCMP constable on patrol came across a motorcyclist, who was swathed in
protective clothing and helmet, stalled by the roadside. "What's the
matter?" asked the policeman.


"Carburetor's frozen," was the terse reply.


"Pee on it. That'll thaw it out."


"Can't."


"OK, Watch me and I will show you."


The constable lubricated the carburetor, as promised.


The bike started and the rider drove off, waving.


A few days later, the detachment office received a note of thanks from the
father of the motorbike rider.


It began: "On behalf of my daughter, who recently was stranded ...."
 
Two guys were sitting on the porch, having a beer.

One guy says "You know, I'm starting to think my daughter and her boyfriend are getting a little too serious".

The other guy says "How can you tell?"

First guy says "The other night he peed his name in the snow under my daughter's window."

Second guy says "What's wrong with that?"

First guy says "It was her handwriting."
 
WHY ATHLETES CAN'T HAVE REGULAR JOBS...

1. Chicago Cubs outfielder Andre Dawson on being a role model: "I wan' all dem kids to do what I do, to look up to me. I wan' all the kids to copulate me."

2. New Orleans Saint RB George Rogers when asked about the upcoming season: "I want to rush for 1,000 or 1,500 yards, whichever comes first."

3. And, upon hearing Joe Jacobi of the 'Skin's say: "I'd run over my own mother to win the Super Bowl," Matt Millen of the Raiders said: "To win, I'd run over Joe's Mom, too."

4. Torrin Polk, University of Houston receiver, on his coach, John Jenkins: "He treats us like men. He lets us wear earrings."

5. Football commentator and former player Joe Theismann: "Nobody in football should be called a genius. A genius is a guy like Norman Einstein."

6. Senior basketball player at th e University of Pittsburgh:"I'm going to graduate on time, no matter how long it takes."

7. Bill Peterson, a Florida State football coach: "You guys line up alphabetically by height.." And, "You guys pair up in groups of three, and then line up in a circle."

8. Boxing promoter Dan Duva on Mike Tyson going to prison: "Why would anyone expect him to come out smarter? He went to prison for three years, not Princeton ."

9. Stu Grimson, Chicago Blackhawks left wing, explaining why he keeps a color photo of himself above his locker: "That's so when I forget how to spell my name, I can still find my clothes."

10. Lou Duva, veteran boxing trainer, on the Spartan training regime of heavyweight Andrew Golota: "He's a guy who gets up at six o'clock in the morning, regardless of what time it is."

11. Chuck Nevitt , North Carolina State basketball player, explaining to Coach Jim Valvano why he appeared nervous at practice: "My sister's expecting a baby, and I don't know if I'm going to be an uncle or an aunt."

12. Frank Layden , Utah Jazz president, on a former player: "I told him, 'Son, what is it with you? Is it ignorance or apathy?'

He said, 'Coach, I don't know and I don't care.'"

13. Shelby Metcalf, basketball coach at Texas A&M, recounting what he told a player who received four F's and one D: "Son, looks to me like you're spending too much time on one subject."

14. In the words of NC State great Charles Shackelford I can go to my left or right, I am amphibious.

15. Amarillo High School and Oiler coach Bum Phillips when asked by Bob Costas why he takes his wife on all the road trips,

Phillips responded: "Because she is too damn ugly to kiss good-bye."
 
WHY WOMEN CAN'T SLEEP

Have you ever wondered how a woman's brain works?
Well...it's finally explained here in one, easy-to-understand illustration:

Every one of those little blue balls is a thought about something that needs to be done, a decision or a problem that needs to be solved.

punch line next post
23ly6gz.jpg
 
Last edited:
Loved that, Dave!

Here's one:

During a recent password audit, it was found that a blonde was using the following password: "MickeyMinniePlutoHueyLouieDeweyDonaldGoofy". When asked why such a big password, she said that it had to be at least 8 characters long.
 
Why did the chicken cross the road?

To show the possum it could be done. :rofl:

Funny thing... our daughter once yelled "LOOK!!!! A LIVE POSSUM!" while we were driving along--she spotted one running alongside the road. We all did (and still do) got a giggle out of that.
 
I have decide to stick with the same outdoor xmas decorations I had last year. Saved a lot of trouble.
Mine is the one on the right, that's my pickup in the drive:
 

Attachments

  • xmasdecorations.jpg
    xmasdecorations.jpg
    41.4 KB · Views: 87
Aussie Check Ride

Hi Mate,

I am writing to you, because I need your help to get me bloody pilot's license back. You keep telling me you got all the right contacts. Well, now's your chance to make something happen for me because, mate, I'm bloody desperate. But first, I'd better tell you what happened during my last flight review with the CAA Examiner.

On the phone, Ron (that's the CAA d@#$head) seemed a reasonable sort of bloke.. He politely reminded me of the need to do a flight review every two years. He even offered to drive out, have a look over my property and let me operate from my own strip. Naturally I agreed to that.

Anyway, Ron turned up last Wednesday. First up, he said he was a bit surprised to see the plane on a small strip outside my homestead, because the ALA (Authorized Landing Area) is about a mile away. I explained that because this strip was so close to the homestead, it was more convenient than the ALA, and despite the power lines crossing about midway down the strip it's really not a problem to land and takeoff, because at the halfway point down the strip you're usually still on the ground.

For some reason Ron seemed nervous. So, although I had done the preflight inspection only four days earlier, I decided to do it all over again. Because the pr@#$ was watching me carefully, I walked around the plane three times instead of my usual two.

My effort was rewarded because the color finally returned to Ron's cheeks. In fact, they went a bright red. In view of Ron's obviously better mood, I told him I was going to combine the test flight with some farm work, as I had to deliver three poddy calves from the home paddock to the main herd. After a bit of a chase I finally caught the calves and threw them into the back of the ol' Cessna 172. We climbed aboard, but Ron started gettin' onto me about weight and balance calculations and all that crap. Of course I knew that sort of thing was a waste of time because, calves like to move around a bit particularly when they see themselves 500 feet off the ground! So, its bloody pointless trying to secure them as you know. However, I did tell Ron that he shouldn't worry as I always keep the trim wheel set on neutral to ensure we remain pretty stable at all stages throughout the flight.

Anyway, I started the engine and cleverly minimized the warm-up time by tramping hard on the brakes and gunning her to 2,500 rpm. I then discovered that Ron has very acute hearing, even though he was wearing a bloody headset. Through all that noise he detected a metallic rattle and demanded I account for it. Actually it began about a month ago and was caused by a screwdriver that fell down a hole in the floor and lodged in the fuel selector mechanism. The selector can't be moved now, but it doesn't matter because it's jammed on 'All tanks', so I suppose that's okay.

However, as Ron was obviously a real nit-picker, I blamed the noise on vibration from a stainless steel thermos flask, which I keep in a beaut little possie between the windshield and the magnetic compass. My explanation seemed to relax Ron, because he slumped back in the seat and kept looking up at the cockpit roof. I released the brakes to taxi out, but unfortunately the plane gave a leap and spun to the right. "Hell" I thought, "not the starboard wheel chock again." The bump jolted Ron back to full alertness. He looked wildly around just in time to see a rock thrown by the prop wash disappear completely through the windscreen of his brand new Commodore. "Now I'm really in trouble," I thought.

While Ron was busy ranting about his car, I ignored his requirement that we taxi to the ALA, and instead took off under the power lines. Ron didn't say a word, at least not until the engine started coughing right at the lift off point, then he bloody screamed his head off. "Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!"

"Now take it easy, Ron" I told him firmly. "That often happens on takeoff and there is a good reason for it." I explained patiently that I usually run the plane on standard MOGAS, but one day I accidentally put in a gallon or two of kerosene. To compensate for the low octane of the kerosene, I siphoned in a few gallons off super MOGAS and shook the wings up and down a few times to mix it up. Since then, the engine has been coughing a bit but in general it works just fine, if you know how to coax it properly.

Anyway, at this stage Ron seemed to lose all interest in my flight test. He pulled out some rosary beads, closed his eyes and became lost in prayer. (I didn't think anyone was a Catholic these days.) I selected some nice music on the HF radio to help him relax.

Meanwhile, I climbed to my normal cruising altitude of 10,500 feet. I don't normally put in a flight plan or get the weather because, as you know getting Fax access out here is a friggin' joke and the bloody weather is always 8/8 blue anyway. But since I had that near miss with a Saab 340, I might have to change me thinking on that. Anyhow, on leveling out I noticed some wild camels heading into my improved pasture. I hate bloody camels, and always carry a loaded 303 clipped inside the door of the Cessna just in case I see any of the bastards.

We were too high to hit them, but as a matter of principle, I decided to have a go through the open window. Mate, when I pulled the bloody rifle out, the effect on Ron was friggin' electric. As I fired the first shot his neck lengthened by about six inches and his eyes bulged like a rabbit with myxo. He really looked as if he had been jabbed with an electric cattle prod on full power. In fact, Ron's reaction was so distracting that I lost concentration for a second and the next shot went straight through the port tire. Ron was a bit upset about the shooting (probably one of those pinko animal lovers I guess) so I decided not to tell him about our little problem with the tire.

Shortly afterwards I located the main herd and decided to do my fighter pilot trick.

Ron had gone back to praying when, in one smooth sequence, I pulled on full flaps, cut the power and started a sideslip from 10,500 feet down to 500 feet at 130 knots indicated (the last time I looked anyway) and the little needle rushing up to the red area on me ASI. What a buzz, mate! About halfway through the descent I looked back in the cabin to see the calves gracefully suspended in mid air and mooing like crazy. I was going to comment on this unusual sight, but Ron looked a bit green and had rolled himself into the fetal position and was screamin' his freakin' head off. Mate, talk about being in a bloody zoo. You should've been there, it was so bloody funny!

At about 500 feet I leveled out, but for some reason we continued sinking. When we reached 50 feet I applied full power but nothin' happened; no noise no nothin'. Then, luckily, I heard me instructor's voice in me head saying "carby heat, carby heat". So I pulled carby heat on and that helped quite a lot, with the engine finally regaining full power. Whew, that was really close, let me tell you!

Then mate, you'll never guess what happened next! As luck would have it, at that height we flew into a massive dust cloud caused by the cattle and suddenly went I.F. bloody R, mate. BJ, you would've been bloody proud of me as I didn't panic once, not once, but I did make a mental note to consider an instrument rating as soon as me gyro is repaired (Something I've been meaning to do for a while now).

Suddenly Ron's elongated neck and bulging eyes reappeared.. His mouth opened wide, very wide, but no sound emerged. "Take it easy," I told him. "we'll be out of this in a minute." Sure enough, about a minute later we emerge; still straight and level and still at 50 feet.

Admittedly I was surprised to notice that we were upside down, and I kept thinking to myself, "I hope Ron didn't notice that I had forgotten to set the QNH when we were taxiing." This minor tribulation forced me to fly to a nearby valley in which I had to do a half roll to get upright again.

By now the main herd had divided into two groups leaving a narrow strip between them. "Ah!" I thought, "there's an omen. We'll land right there." Knowing that the tyre problem demanded a slow approach, I flew a couple of steep turns with full flap. Soon the stall warning horn was blaring so loud in me ear that I cut its circuit breaker to shut it up, but by then I knew we were slow enough anyway. I turned steeply onto a 75 foot final and put her down with a real thud. Strangely enough, I had always thought you could only ground loop in a tail dragger but, as usual, I was proved wrong again!

Halfway through our third loop, Ron at last recovered his sense of humour. Talk about laugh. I've never seen the likes of it. He couldn't stop. We finally rolled to a halt and I released the calves, who bolted out of the aircraft like there was no tomorrow.

I then began picking clumps of dry grass. Between gut wrenching fits of laughter, Ron asked what I was doing. I explained that we had to stuff the port tyre with grass so we could fly back to the homestead. It was then that Ron really lost the plot and started running away from the aircraft. Can you believe it? The last time I saw him he was off into the distance, arms flailing in the air and still shrieking with laughter. I later heard that he had been confined to a psychiatric institution - poor bugger!

Anyhow, mate, that's enough about Ron. The problem is I just got a letter from CAA withdrawing, as they put it, my privileges to fly; until I have undergone a complete pilot training course again and undertaken another flight proficiency test. Now I admit that I made a mistake in taxiing over the wheel chock and not setting the QNH using strip elevation, but I can't see what else I did that was so bloody bad that they have to withdraw me flamin' license. Can you?
 
A Sad Obituary

An Obituary printed in the Times newspaper -

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as:
- Knowing when to come in out of the rain;
- Why the early bird gets the worm;
- Life isn’t always fair;
- and maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge). His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition. Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children.

It declined even further, when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or an aspirin to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live, as the churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims did. Common Sense took a beating when you could not defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault. Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilt a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death, by his parents - Truth and Trust, by his wife - Discretion, by his daughter - Responsibility, and by his son - Reason.

He is survived by his 4 stepbrothers; I Know My Rights, I Want It Now, Someone Else Is To Blame, and I'm A Victim

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.
 
Will I Live to see 80?

Here's something to think about.

I recently picked a new primary care doctor. After two visits and exhaustive Lab tests, he said I was doing 'fairly well' for my age. (I just turned 60.)
A little concerned about that comment, I couldn't resist asking him, 'Do you think I'll live to be 80?' He asked, 'Do you smoke tobacco, or drink beer or wine?'
'Oh no,' I replied.. 'I'm not doing drugs, either!'
Then he asked, 'Do you eat rib-eye steaks and barbecued ribs?
'I said, 'Not much... my former doctor said that all red meat is very unhealthy!'
'Do you spend a lot of time in the sun, like playing golf, sailing, hiking, or bicycling?'
'No, I don't,' I said.
He asked, 'Do you gamble, drive fast cars, or have a lot of sex?'
'No,' I said.

He looked at me and said,... 'Then, why do you even give a ****?!
 
you gotta luv this
ACTUAL AUSTRALIAN COURT DOCKET 12659 --



CASE OF THE PREGNANT LADY






A lady about 8 months pregnant got on a bus.

She noticed the man opposite her was smiling at her.

She immediately moved to another seat.

This time the smile turned into a grin, so she moved again.

The man seemed more amused.

When on the fourth move, the man burst out laughing,

she complained to the driver and he had the man arrested.




The case came up in court.




The judge asked the man (about 20 years old)

what he had to say for himself..




The man replied,

'Well your Honor, it was like this:

when the lady got on the bus,

I couldn't help but notice her condition.

She sat down under a sign that said,

'The Double Mint Twins are coming' and I grinned.

Then she moved and sat under a sign that said,

'Logan's Liniment will reduce the swelling,' and I had to smile.

Then she placed herself under a deodorant sign that said,

'William's Big Stick Did the Trick,' and I could hardly contain myself.

But, Your Honor, when she moved the fourth time

and sat under a sign that said,

'Goodyear Rubber could have prevented this Accident!'
... I just lost it.'



 
The picture says it all no caption required
 

Attachments

  • image001.jpg
    image001.jpg
    61.3 KB · Views: 82
Is sex work?

A U.S. Navy captain was about to start the morning briefing to his staff.
While waiting for the coffee machine to finish its brewing, the captain
decided to pose a question to all assembled.
He explained that his wife had been a bit frisky the night before and he
failed to get his usual amount of sound sleep.
He posed the question of just how much of sex was "work" and how much of it
was "pleasure?"
A commander chimed in with 75-25% in favor of work.
A lieutenant said it was 50-50%.
An ensign responded with 25-75% in favor of pleasure, depending upon his state of inebriation at the time.
There being no consensus, the captain turned to the seaman who was in charge of making the coffee. What was HIS opinion?
Without any hesitation, the young seaman responded, "Sir, it has to be 100% pleasure."
The captain was surprised and, as you might guess, asked why?
"Well, sir, if there was any work involved, the officers would have me doing it for them."
The room fell silent.
God Bless the enlisted man.
 
Little Joey's parents were getting a divorce. The judge ruled that Joey would live with his mother. Joey cried.

"Why are you crying?", asked the mother's attorney. "Because she beats me!", Joey replied.

The judge then ruled the father would have custody. Joey cried even louder.

"What now?", asked the father's attorney. "Because he beats me too." said Joey.

"Okay", said the judge, "we'll place Joey with the next of kin, his aunt and uncle. Joey howled. "They beat me the worst!", said Joey.

The judge called Joey over and asked, "Son, if it were up to you where would you want to stay?"

Joey though a bit then said, "I want to live with the Philladelphia Phillies."

The room was silent....

The judge finally spoke, "Joey, that is an unusual request, why would you want to live with a baseball team?"

Joey explained, "Because they don't beat no one!"
 
Cowboy rules for Texas, Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado, Oklahoma, Wyoming, Montana, Utah, Idaho, Nevada... And the rest of the Wild West... are as follows:

1. Pull your pants up, city slicker. You look like an idiot.

2. Turn your cap right, too; your head ain't crooked.

3. Let's get this straight: it's called a 'gravel road.' I drive a pickup truck because I want to. No matter how slow you drive, you're gonna get dust on your Lexus. Drive it or get out of the way.

4. They are cattle. That's why they smell like cattle. They smell like money to us. Get over it. Don't like it? I-10, I-40, I-70 and I-80 go east and west, I-17, I-15, I-25 and I-35 goes north and south. Pick one and go.

5. So you have a $60,000 car. We're impressed. We have $300,000 Combines that are driven 3 weeks a year.

6. Every person in the Wild West waves. It's called being friendly. Try to understand the concept...

7. If that cell phone rings while a bunch of Geese, pheasants, ducks, or doves are comin' in during the hunts, we WILL shoot it outa your hand. You better hope you don't have it up to your ear at the time.

8. Yeah. We eat trout, salmon, deer and elk. You really want sushi and caviar? It's available at the corner bait shop.

9. The 'Opener' refers to the first day of deer season. It's a religious holiday held the closest Saturday to the first of November.

10. We open doors for women. That's applied to all women, no matter what age.

11. No, there's no 'vegetarian special' on the menu. Order steak, or you can order the Chef's Salad and pick off the 2 pounds of ham and turkey.

12. When we fill out a table, there are three main dishes: meats, vegetables, and breads. We use three spices: salt, pepper, and ketchup! Oh, yeah . . We don't care what you folks in Cincinnati call that stuff you eat.... IT AIN'T REAL CHILI !!

13. You bring 'Coke' into my house, it better be brown, wet and served over ice. You bring 'Mary Jane' into my house, she better be cute, know how to shoot, drive a truck, and have long hair.

14. College and High School Football is more important here than the Giants, the Yankees, the Mets, the Lakers and the Knicks, and a dang site more fun to watch.

15. Yeah, we have golf courses. But don't hit the water hazards - it spooks the fish.

16. Turn down that blasted car stereo! That thumpity-thump crap ain't music, anyway. We don't want to hear it anymore than we want to see your drawers! Refer back to #1!

A true Westerner will send this to at least 10 others and a few new friends that probably won't get it, but we're friendly so we share in hopes you can begin to understand what a real life is all about!!!
 
Dang, Troy, if that aint the truth.

#5: That reminds me of a funny story. A friend was an ER nurse. In surgery the Drs would try to one up each other over who had the most expensive things. Finally she had enough. She said, "My husband drives a $180,000 vehicle...and he's home for lunch every day."

Her husband, my good friend drives a IH combine among other farm implements.
 
During a recent password audit, it was found that a blonde was using the following password:

MickeyMinniePlutoHueyLouieDeweyDonaldGoofy

When asked why such a big password, she said that it had to be at least 8 characters long.
 
During a recent password audit, it was found that a blonde was using the following password:

MickeyMinniePlutoHueyLouieDeweyDonaldGoofy

When asked why such a big password, she said that it had to be at least 8 characters long.
LOL! Thanks, Tom! Not often I see one I haven't seen before! :)
 
This was forwarded by a pilot friend. Not sure whether this is true or not, so posting it here.

A humorous and interesting inside look at what it's like to fly two aircraft at once . . .

________________________________________________

Well, it's been 48 hours since I landed the 747 with the shuttle Atlantis on top and I am still buzzing from the experience. I have to say that my whole mind, body and soul went into the professional mode just before engine start in Mississippi, and stayed there, where it all needed to be, until well after the flight...in fact, I am not sure if it is all back to normal as I type this email. The experience was surreal. Seeing that "thing" on top of an already overly huge aircraft boggles my mind. The whole mission from takeoff to engine shutdown was unlike anything I had ever done. It was like a dream...someone else's dream.

We took off from Columbus AFB on their 12,000 foot runway, of which I used 11,999 1/2 feet to get the wheels off the ground. We were at 3,500 feet left to go of the runway, throttles full power, nose wheels still hugging the ground, copilot calling out decision speeds, the weight of Atlantis now screaming through my fingers clinched tightly on the controls, tires heating up to their near maximum temperature from the speed and the weight, and not yet at rotation speed, the speed at which I would be pulling on the controls to get the nose to rise. I just could not wait, and I mean I COULD NOT WAIT, and started pulling early. If I had waited until rotation speed, we would not have rotated enough to get airborne by the end of the runway. So I pulled on the controls early and started our rotation to the takeoff attitude. The wheels finally lifted off as we passed over the stripe marking the end of the runway and my next hurdle (physically) was a line of trees 1,000 feet off the departure end of Runway 16. All I knew was we were flying and so I directed the gear to be retracted and the flaps to be moved from Flaps 20 to Flaps 10 as I pulled even harder on the controls. I must say, those trees were beginning to look a lot like those brushes in the drive through car washes so I pulled even harder yet! I think I saw a bird just fold its wings and fall out of a tree as if to say "Oh just take me".. Okay, we cleared the trees, duh, but it was way too close for my laundry. As we started to actually climb, at only 100 feet per minute, I smelled something that reminded me of touring the Heineken Brewery in Europe ...I said "is that a skunk I smell?" and the veterans of shuttle carrying looked at me and smiled and said "Tires"! I said "TIRES??? OURS???" They smiled and shook their heads as if to call their Captain an amateur...okay, at that point I was. The tires were so hot you could smell them in the cockpit. My mind could not get over, from this point on, that this was something I had never experienced. Where's your mom when you REALLY need her?

The flight down to Florida was an eternity. We cruised at 250 knots indicated, giving us about 315 knots of ground speed at 15,000'. The miles didn't click by like I am use to them clicking by in a fighter jet at MACH .94. We were burning fuel at a rate of 40,000 pounds per hour or 130 pounds per mile, or one gallon every length of the fuselage. The vibration in the cockpit was mild, compared to down below and to the rear of the fuselage where it reminded me of that football game I had as a child where you turned it on and the players vibrated around the board. I felt like if I had plastic clips on my boots I could have vibrated to any spot in the fuselage I wanted to go without moving my legs...and the noise was deafening. The 747 flies with its nose 5 degrees up in the air to stay level, and when you bank, it feels like the shuttle is trying to say "hey, let's roll completely over on our back"...not a good thing I kept telling myself... SO I limited my bank angle to 15 degrees and even though a 180 degree course change took a full zip code to complete, it was the safe way to turn this monster.

Airliners and even a flight of two F-16s deviated from their flight plans to catch a glimpse of us along the way. We dodged what was in reality very few clouds and storms, despite what everyone thought, and arrived in Florida with 51,000 pounds of fuel too much to land with. We can't land heavier than 600,000 pounds total weight and so we had to do something with that fuel. I had an idea...let's fly low and slow and show this beast off to all the taxpayers in Florida lucky enough to be outside on that Tuesday afternoon. So at Ormond Beach we let down to 1,000 feet above the ground/water and flew just east of the beach out over the water. Then, once we reached the NASA airspace of the Kennedy Space Center , we cut over to the Banana/Indian Rivers and flew down the middle of them to show the people of Titusville , Port St. Johns and Melbourne just what a 747 with a shuttle on it looked like. We stayed at 1,000 feet and since we were dragging our flaps at "Flaps 5", our speed was down to around 190 to 210 knots. We could see traffic stopping in the middle of roads to take a look. We heard later that a Little League Baseball game stop to look and everyone cheered as we became their 7th inning stretch. Oh say can you see...

After reaching Vero Beach , we turned north to follow the coast line back up to the Shuttle Landing Facility (SLF). There was not one person laying on the beach....they were all standing and waving! "What a sight" I thought....and figured they were thinking the same thing. All this time I was bugging the engineers, all three of them, to re-compute our fuel and tell me when it was time to land. They kept saying "Not yet Triple, keep showing this thing off" which was not a bad thing to be doing. However, all this time the thought that the landing, the muscling of this 600,000 pound beast, was getting closer and closer to my reality. I was pumped up! We got back to the SLF and were still 10,000 pounds too heavy to land so I said I was going to do a low approach over the SLF going the opposite direction of landing traffic that day. So at 300 feet, we flew down the runway, rocking our wings like a whale rolling on its side to say "hello" to the people looking on! One turn out of traffic and back to the runway to land...still 3,000 pounds over gross weight limit. But the engineers agreed that if the landing were smooth, there would be no problem. "Oh thanks guys, a little extra pressure is just what I needed!" So we landed at 603,000 pounds and very smoothly if I have to say so myself. The landing was so totally controlled and on speed, that it was fun. There were a few surprises that I dealt with, like the 747 falls like a rock with the orbiter on it if you pull the throttles off at the "normal" point in a landing and secondly, if you thought you could hold the nose off the ground after the mains touch down, think again...IT IS COMING DOWN!!! So I "flew it down" to the ground and saved what I have seen in videos of a nose slap after landing. Bob's video supports this! ::cool:

Then I turned on my phone after coming to a full stop only to find 50 bazillion emails and phone messages from all of you who were so super to be watching and cheering us on! What a treat, I can't thank y'all enough. For those who watched, you wondered why we sat there so long. Well, the shuttle had very hazardous chemicals on board and we had to be "sniffed" to determine if any had leaked or were leaking. They checked for Monomethylhydrazine (N2H4 for Charlie Hudson) and nitrogen tetroxide (N2O4). Even though we were "clean", it took way too long for them to tow us in to the mate-demate area. Sorry for those who stuck it out and even waited until we exited the jet.

I am sure I will wake up in the middle of the night here soon, screaming and standing straight up dripping wet with sweat from the realization of what had happened. It was a thrill of a lifetime. Again I want to thank everyone for your interest and support. It felt good to bring Atlantis home in one piece after she had worked so hard getting to the Hubble Space Telescope and back.

Triple Nickel

NASA Pilot
 
N2H4 is monomethyl hydrazine? Where's the methyl group? The compound listed is just hydrazine. This is like seeing a hollywood movie and they mess up the flying.

Thanks for sharing.
 
The "Y" generation
 

Attachments

  • Y.jpg
    Y.jpg
    106.2 KB · Views: 103
It's a slow day in a little East Texas town. The sun is beating down, and the streets are deserted. Times are tough, everybody is in debt, and everybody lives on credit.....

On this particular day a rich tourist from back east is driving through town. He stops at the motel and lays a $100 bill on the desk saying he wants to inspect the rooms upstairs in order to pick one to spend the night.

As soon as the man walks upstairs, the owner grabs the bill and runs next door to pay his debt to the butcher.

The butcher takes the $100 and runs down the street to retire his debt to the pig farmer.

The pig farmer takes the $100 and heads off to pay his bill at the supplier of feed and fuel.

The guy at the Farmer's Co-op takes the $100 and runs to pay his debt to the local prostitute, who has also been facing hard times and has had to offer her "services" on credit.

The hooker rushes to the hotel and pays off her room bill with the hotel owner.

The hotel proprietor then places the $100 back on the counter so the rich traveler will not suspect anything.

At that moment the traveler comes down the stairs, picks up the $100 bill, states that the rooms are not satisfactory, pockets the cash, and leaves town.

No one produced anything. No one earned anything. However, the whole town is now out of debt and now looks to the future with a lot more optimism.

After all, ladies and gentlemen, that is how Congress has shown us economic stimulus works.
 
Here's to those Thanksgiving Traditions that make life worth living.

attachment.php
 

Attachments

  • Thanksgiving.jpg
    Thanksgiving.jpg
    247.1 KB · Views: 327
Back
Top