Almost as long as my dick.
Thats right, its scale is so huge that I use DAYS to measure it, not inches (or centimetres for those insecure pricks)
12 cm != 12 inches
Well lets see, alot has happened in the last little while. I think I may be in love
Yeah, isnt that a sign of the appocolypse or some shit like that? meh, whatever.
ON TO THE STORIES!
I used to do a quasi blog called DJ Drifters University Survival Guide. Basically It chronicled my adventure at university and the misadventures. Sometimes where I was the primary character, or where I was a third party to witness this shit. I think I may put some of those up, there is some good lessons to be learned there.
Now, adventure in flight school.
You may believe me to be possibly the biggest douche bag around. Well close, in my class (we are all pricks by times) there are 2 people who rival me in doucebaggerty. But they only target one person really, where as I go after everyone. They (like me) just have a deep hatred for this guy. Anyways, I suppose you want to know why this is relevant. Simple: I kept track of who said what, and everytime someone said something douchbaggetrish, I put down a Mark. And my fuck, we re we ever high. 1 student had 19, the INSTRUCTOR had 14 and I had less than 10 I think. (hey, I take class quasi seriously. I have 6 loves in life)
In order of importance:
mind you, these change from time to time... but thats generally how it goes.
Holey Shit! I can label this stuff? This may be worth while...
Anyways more flying stories. A plane tried to kill me.
My first night flight to a big airport. The way there is a blast, I overfly my house and rock my wings for my mother and I head to the location.
About halfway across the bay, my engine starts running rough, almost sounding like its stopping. I do what I can (what should solve the problem) and I continue on. I land and check out the plane, nothing seems out of line. Later I learned that this plane doesnt like low power settings. Its may power is 2600 rpm, Im not sure what makes 2200 rpm a low power setting, but when the plane feels like its about to tell you to fuck off, you listen to it.
Now that rattled me, I would be lieing to you if I said I was not stressed about it. Im glad my lovely first officer was there, I would have frozen if I had been by myself I think. (the responsibility of other peoples lives gives you the motivation not to fuck up) Because of this, I thought I got lost and was horribly off track. I later looked at my map and though through it logically...and I was basically on track, off by a few degrees and maybe 1 mile, if that. FUCK!
I was too busy looking at the ground and my map to notice THAT MY NOSE WAS ALMOST POINTED AT MY DESTINATION AND I COULD SEE THE FUCKING CITY LIGHTS.
I was very dissapointed in myself after that. :(
Anyways moving on, so I have alot more flights. Over the past 2 weeks (and by past 2 weeks I mean one week ago and the two weeks before that)
I was basically flying once a day, for a minimum of 2 and a half hours. I went from having 100 hours to having 13-something hours. I fly more than I drive (and I drive 30-45 minutes to get to school then another 30-45 to get home)
That is fucked, anyways one day my komrades and I ask for sunday off.
Thats right, you know whats comming.
My first officer has been after me to get hammered, she wanted to see me really inebriated (I dont fucking know why)
So, I had 2 quarts. One of Voldka, one of Spiced Rum. For mix, there was redbull and dr. pepper (Iced tea and spice rum tastes fucking great! Dr. P and spiced rum, not so much)
So I got hammered. Smoked some cigarellos, and had a drag of a cuban. Shot the shit, listened to music, danced around like a fool and promoted the shocker.
It was a good fucking night, someone offered me some weed, but Im a pilot. I draw the line there.
Maybe it was at this party I fell in love, maybe before.
Or maybe I am just sleep deprived and need to bash my head against something hard.
Like JAmes' dick. MMmmm I love fire crotches :)
Until I remember/bother to write again.