Where the hell have I been? Why didn't I see this before? The Lynndie. Probably not work-friendly, nor conscience-friendly. Switch your humanity off before viewing. I'm not feeling very sympathetic towards the human race at the moment so I think it's hilarious.

Got and email from my mate Glen detailing his wacky adventures so far on the company tit in Malaysia. Suck on it while you can, Clarkie.

There's something that's been bugging me for a while now. It's one of those 'damned if I do, damned if I don't' kind of things. I don't want to go into what it is, it makes no difference. The point is it's one of those things in life that determines what sort of person I am. Whether I'm the sort of person who takes a course of action and damn the consequences, or the sort of person who prefers to not do anything at all as the risk of failure is too great.

Time will tell.

More aviation pictures


One DC-3 being towed backwards to the museum.

One very slippery Porsche-powered Mooney

New flying post here.

I want to tell you about a sport played around Australia. It's an unusual sport in that there are a number of participants, none of whom are aware of the existence of any of the other players. Only one player knows when the game starts and only one player knows when the game ends and who the winner is. No scores are kept. The game goes on as long as it takes to achieve a result. It's an indoor game and at any one time there are hundreds, if not thousands of games going on in pubs and clubs and public toilets. I refer, of course, to urinal hockey.

The game begins when the first participant chucks his cigarette into the trough. He leaves. The next player attempts to wash the butt down the drain, as does the next player, and so on until the butt disappears. No prizes are awarded. No judges are required.

Now there's a game that should have been included in the olympics. Beats synchronised swimming anyday.

Aviation pictures






New flying post here.

Some things I don't understand. Usually pink things. Pink things like tupperware or clothes parties. You invite some friends around, offer them tea and cakes then try to sell them kitchen utensils or apparel. Your friends don't get mad at this apparent subterfuge. Quite the reverse. They are delighted at the opportunity to combine gossip and shopping in a familiar domestic environment.

Can you imagine a bloke inviting you around to his place for a performance engine parts or fishing tackle party? The best you could hope for if you proposed such an action to your mates is that no one would show up and you would no longer have any mates. More likely, you would be clubbed over the head and thrown into the nearest body of water.