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  1. #21
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    Quote Originally Posted by Strostkovy View Post
    Apparently the chiller shed was his favorite spot to hide in during work hours.
    Busted six guys, wee hours of a morning, onct. Long Binh.

    They figured they had found themselves a private place safe to light up joints that no one would want to get near.

    I wasn't a fan of weed. Quite the reverse. It f**ks up a sojer's judgement, time & velocity, and distance sensing.

    Even LESS of a fan of smoking anything at all as required "combustion"..

    In a battalion-tripled (2600 man) reserve ammo bunker full of a few tons of illumination rounds, HE, Willy-Peter.. frag grenades, and related "usual suspects" of the craft.

    I did say "f**ks up JUDGEMENT?

    War is history. F**ked-up judgement is still getting worse.

    Go figure folks with f***ed-up judgement would make bad judgement calls?

  2. #22
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    Our parts manager had his favorite coffee mug that he would drink out of every day. It was an insulated mug with a two piece closeable lid. He refused to clean it, and after a year it had built up an impressive colony. “Enhanced the flavor” according to him. One day he picked it up, took a big gulp out of it, and immediately blew bubbles all over the office. The new parts guy Jared, had filled it about half full of dish soap. They did not get along well after that.
    Not long after that Jared crossed our mechanic and decided to disappear while he was still intact.

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  4. #23
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    Some years ago,I had to draw component X from stores for an assembly. Spend ages with grouchy old Ron at the hatch,filling out chits etc. Anyway a week or two later,Stores had had a bit of a sort out and there were hundreds of X in the swarf bay out at the back!

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    Quote Originally Posted by TedinNorfolk View Post
    Some years ago,I had to draw component X from stores for an assembly. Spend ages with grouchy old Ron at the hatch,filling out chits etc. Anyway a week or two later,Stores had had a bit of a sort out and there were hundreds of X in the swarf bay out at the back!
    Supply f**k ups? Catching a herky-bird from Can Ranh to Tan Son Nhut. Row of pallets down the cargo bay chained down. USAF flying concertina wire in for a high priority beef-up of their Base perimeter?

    Ground fire on short STEEP final coming up through the deck and making little star-bright sky-holes in the upper fuselage .. and I'm thinkin' 'sure hope them dam' chains hold onto SOMETHING if we lose the con-trols! Damn wire will make hamburger out of the lot of us!

    Because... a mere 16 kliks out of Saigon to the world's largest-ever single depot at Long Binh? I'd been pulling Reaction Force Commander over just under 400 armed-up ground pounders and an ACAV or few, each time my name rotated up...as we last-and-least line of defence protected a depot that had pallets of concertina wire stacked eight-high for TWO MIKE FOXTROT MILES in a row!

    Air Force had but asked, we'd have been happy to have issued them at least a mile's worth of it, eight-high!

    Instead of seeing it rust for lack of interest.

    At least whomever was in-charge of the PX's Korean Beer in steel cans, not aluminium, had the sense to mark it down to five cents a go once the rust had started on THAT.

    Waaaay deadlier on mosquitos than DDT that s**t was, too!

    Only problem was yah had to DRINK it, so they'd die when they came for a blood-meal. Mosquito ain't STOOOPID enough to drink Korean reject-beer on their own hook!

    Tax dollars?

    One of those deals under the personal supervision of General Ben Dover.

    Just in case anyone is able to see any HUMOR in it.


  6. #25
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    No machining content. Not funny. My justification is that several earlier posts contained "substances".

    I personally saw many of the events described, the balance were described to me other pub users.

    Twenty plus years ago a new customer, who I shall call Mick, started using the pubs I used, that I still use.
    I shall call what became Mick's favourite pub, the Crown.

    Mick was about thirty. I learnt that he was a Protestant from Northern Ireland. The story was that Mick hit someone in a
    pub in Ulster; the someone turned out have to a brother who was high up in the UVF or the UDA, Mick left in a hurry for
    health reasons.

    Mick moved to my home town because his parents lived here: his parents were devout, teetotal, Christians
    from some obscure sect. Mick's father was the minister at the local church, which was a convenient walking
    distance from the pubs. The parental home adjoined the church.

    I learnt that Mick smoked like a chimney and had a drink problem. Mick used to get as pissed as anyone I have ever seen,
    several nights a week.

    I also learnt that Mick was a creature of habit, he followed a routine. After work, circa 5:30 PM, Mick would go in the
    Crown, read the paper, swap stories with the regulars, and drink a few pints. Mick would then leave the Crown and
    go on a tour of the other seven pubs within walking distance. Somewhere on his tour Mick would place an order at the local
    Chinese take away restaurant. Mick would normally have one pint in every pub, sometimes more.

    Shortly before "closing" time, 11:00 AM, Mick would leave whichever pub he was in and return to the Crown. On the way Mick
    might collect his Chinese meal, depending how pissed he was: more than occasionally Mick would forget the meal and the
    staff would knock on the door of the Crown on their way home and deliver the meal. Sometimes the meal stayed in the restaurant.

    Having returned to the Crown Mick would then perform his daily pisshead of the year routine and leave the Crown at very AM,
    sometimes he would remember his meal.

    Several, uneventful, months go by. Then, one very AM weekday evening, Mick left the Crown with a, more than usual, stagger.
    One of the regulars observed that Mick seemed to be drinking more than usual.

    The Crown landlord supplied the explanation, "His parents are on two weeks holiday, they do not return until Monday.
    There is nobody to admonish him when he goes home, so he gets more pissed.".

    Saturday night happens, Mick does his newt impersonation, leaves the Crown announcing that he will collect his Chinese meal.
    The restaurant closed hours ago, having discovered the closure, Mick decides it is time for home cooking.

    At home Mick enters the kitchen to prepare his supper. But he is a lazy pisshead, he has not done any shopping while his parents are away.
    All Mick can find is some potatoes, so he decides to make some chips (as they are called in the UK).

    Mick chops the potatoes, lights the gas, puts some oil in the pan and puts the pan on the cooker for the oil to heat up.
    I know, I know, you and I would put the pan on first, then cut the chips, but that was not what Mick did.

    What Mick did do was decide to go in the lounge, light a fag and watch the TV for five minutes, "until the oil was the correct temperature".

    Two minutes pass and the oil heats up.
    Two more minutes pass and the oil catches fire.
    Two more minutes pass and the kitchen is on fire.
    Two more minutes pass by and the church is on fire, fortunately a neighbour smells the smoke, looks through the curtains, sees
    the flames and calls the fire brigade.
    A few more minutes pass by and Mick is woken (because he has gone to sleep) by the sound of fire axes breaking the door to rescue him.
    It is now about 4:00 AM.

    Nobody hurt, damage to properties, the firemen stay for a few hours, ensuring that the fire really is extinguished.

    Sunday AM and the congregation arrive for their early service. Sorry, say the firemen, safety etc. service cancelled.
    The worshippers are not impressed by events and do not display any Christian forgiveness and understanding towards Mick.

    Next day, Monday, Mick's parents return from holiday and show even less understanding, forgiveness and Christian behaviour.
    They tell Mick to find somewhere else to live PDQ.

  7. #26
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    Quote Originally Posted by ManicMetalBasher View Post
    No machining content. Not funny. My justification is that several earlier posts contained "substances".

    I personally saw many of the events described, the balance were described to me other pub users.

    Twenty plus years ago a new customer, who I shall call Mick, starting using the pubs I used, that I still use.
    I shall call what became Mick's favourite pub, the Crown.

    Mick was about thirty. I learnt that he was a Protestant from Northern Ireland. The story was that Mick hit someone in a
    pub in Ulster; the someone turned out have to a brother who was high up in the UVF or the UDA, Mick left in a hurry for
    health reasons.

    Mick moved to my home town because his parents lived here: his parents were devout, teetotal, Christians
    from some obscure sect. Mick's father was the minister at the local church, which was a convenient walking
    distance from the pubs. The parental home adjoined the church.

    I learnt that Mick smoked like a chimney and had a drink problem. Mick used to get as pissed as anyone I have ever seen,
    several nights a week.

    I also learnt that Mick was a creature of habit, he followed a routine. After work, circa 5:30 PM, Mick would go in the
    Crown, read the paper, swap stories with the regulars, and drink a few pints. Mick would then leave the Crown and
    go on a tour of the other seven pubs within walking distance. Somewhere on his tour Mick would place an order at the local
    Chinese take away restaurant. Mick would normally have one pint in every pub, sometimes more.

    Shortly before "closing" time, 11:00 AM, Mick would leave whichever pub he was in and return to the Crown. On the way Mick
    might collect his Chinese meal, depending how pissed he was: more than occasionally Mick would forget the meal and the
    staff would knock on the door of the Crown on their way home and deliver the meal. Sometimes the meal stayed in the restaurant.

    Having returned to the Crown Mick would then perform his daily pisshead of the year routine and leave the Crown at very AM,
    sometimes he would remember his meal.

    Several, uneventful, months go by. Then, one very AM weekday evening, Mick left the Crown with a, more than usual, stagger.
    One of the regulars observed that Mick seemed to be drinking more than usual.

    The Crown landlord supplied the explanation, "His parents are on two weeks holiday, they do not return until Monday.
    There is nobody to admonish him when he goes home, so he gets more pissed.".

    Saturday night happens, Mick does his newt impersonation, leaves the Crown announcing that he will collect his Chinese meal.
    The restaurant closed hours ago, having discovered the closure, Mick decides it is time for home cooking.

    At home Mick enters the kitchen to prepare his supper. But he is a lazy pisshead, he has not done any shopping while his parents are away.
    All Mick can find is some potatoes, so he decides to make some chips (as they are called in the UK).

    Mick chops the potatoes, lights the gas, puts some oil in the pan and puts the pan on the cooker for the oil to heat up.
    I know, I know, you and I would put the pan on first, then cut the chips, but that was not what Mick did.

    What Mick did do was decide to go in the lounge, light a fag and watch the TV for five minutes, "until the oil was the correct temperature".

    Two minutes pass and the oil heats up.
    Two more minutes pass and the oil catches fire.
    Two more minutes pass and the kitchen is on fire.
    Two more minutes pass by and the church is on fire, fortunately a neighbour smells the smoke, looks through the curtains, sees
    the flames and calls the fire brigade.
    A few more minutes pass by and Mick is woken (because he has gone to sleep) by the sound of fire axes breaking the door to rescue him.
    It is now about 4:00 AM.

    Nobody hurt, damage to properties, the firemen stay for a few hours, ensuring that the fire really is extinguished.

    Sunday AM and the congregation arrive for their early service. Sorry, say the firemen, safety etc. service cancelled.
    The worshippers are not impressed by events and do not display any Christian forgiveness and understanding towards Mick.

    Next day, Monday, Mick's parents return from holiday and show even less understanding, forgiveness and Christian behaviour.
    They tell Mick to find somewhere else to live PDQ.
    Progress?

    In Rome, the Republic, it would have been his father's responsibility to put Mick to death. Or be put down WITH him. Too frugal to run large standing constabularies, the early Romans were.

    Why send him off to ruin the NEXT squat?

    Mind, it wasn't exactly a perfect system in actual use...

    You'd have to know human nature?

    Or maybe just a few too many congenital arseholes?

    I was under the impression that each Council in all of Blighty was issued a "Mick".. with two understudies-in-training, and on a standard rota.. to keep each pub equalized?

  8. #27
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    Quote Originally Posted by TGTool View Post
    Yeah, but did he have all his PPE on? And after safety glasses, what are the requirements for his situation?

    This was more than 40 years ago. I don't think any of us wore safety glasses on a regular basis then. Certainly no PPE.

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    On my first day in a job shop one of my new co-workers asked to borrow my 0-1 micrometer. OK, I hand it to him he walks across the shop back to his machine. After a couple of minutes he yells at me "thanks" and throws the mike across the shop, but throws it short so it lands in the middle of the shop floor and bounces a couple of times. Everybody in the shop stops and stares at me watching my reaction. I throw up my hands and say WTF! Then the whole shop breaks out laughing, Now I'm really perplexed, WTF!

    Then the guy walks up to me and hands me my mike and says welcome to the shop, HAHA.
    Then he picked up the old busted up one that they used on every new guys first day.
    Turned out to be a great place to work.

  10. #29
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    Laughter can actually be a healthy stress relief in what can be a high stress trade unless it gets into actual injury, damage, or horseplay that build more resentment.

    They told me about an earlier episode of a toolmaker who'd bought a nice set of depth mics and was really proud of them. Someone notice that he had left it lying on the ways of the lathe, so when he was away, cut a short length of 1/8" drill rod, put a little kink in it, and swapped it for the actual rod in his mic. No actual damage, but I suppose if he'd had a stroke that might have been different.

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  12. #30
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    Quote Originally Posted by davehud View Post
    On my first day in a job shop one of my new co-workers asked to borrow my 0-1 micrometer. OK, I hand it to him he walks across the shop back to his machine. After a couple of minutes he yells at me "thanks" and throws the mike across the shop, but throws it short so it lands in the middle of the shop floor and bounces a couple of times. Everybody in the shop stops and stares at me watching my reaction. I throw up my hands and say WTF! Then the whole shop breaks out laughing, Now I'm really perplexed, WTF!

    Then the guy walks up to me and hands me my mike and says welcome to the shop, HAHA.
    Then he picked up the old busted up one that they used on every new guys first day.
    Turned out to be a great place to work.
    Not really a funny story, but related to your mic joke. I was in an apprenticeship and I had borrowed a 0-1" and laid it on top of a rag when I was done for the moment. Completely spaced it out and grabbed the rag rather in a hurry...

    Damn did he come unglued. I get it was my fault, and I do respect my tools and especially others tools, it was a mistake (maybe a dumb one but still), you would have thought it was gold plated and personally handed to him by the Pope!

  13. #31
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    THE DEMON DRINK, PART TWO OF TWO.
    I refer below to events described in part one, #25 in this thread. Please read that first or you will not understand the following.

    Mick moves, about a mile, into a block of flats. Not as conveniently situated as before.
    Mick continues to follow his evening routine described in #25 above.

    Several more, uneventful, months go by.

    Then one day Mick meets a neighbour on the landing, the neighbour explains that he needs a favour.

    "Mick, I am working away for a week, if I give you a key to my flat can you go in once a day and give the cat a clean bowl of water
    and open a tin of Whiskas for it?" Says the neighbour.

    "No problem." says Mick. That evening Mick mentions his pussy-sitting responsibilities to a couple of Crown regulars.

    Very late the next Saturday night in the Crown Mick is pissed as usual. A local enquires about the health of the cat.

    "Christ, I forgot all about it, I have not been there for three days." Says Mick, who then empties his glass and leaves hurriedly
    on animal welfare duty. Forgetting his Chinese meal.

    Mick lets himself into his neighbour's flat. The cat drinks/eats three bowls of water/tins of cat food, as though it was starving, which it was.

    Mick is pissed, tired by the walk to the flats, and hungry. Mick is made more hungry by watching the cat break several feline eating records.
    The hunger is made more acute when Mick discovers that he has left his supper in the Crown.

    Mick decides to cook his own supper, unfortunately, he has lost, or at least cannot find, his own flat key.
    So he will have to eat and sleep in his neighbour's flat.

    The neighbour has evidently reduced his food stock in anticipation of his absence. Mick can only find cat food and potatoes, he
    decides to make some chips.

    Mick follows the cookery routine described in #25 above.

    Mick goes into his neighbour's lounge, turns the TV on, sits down with a fag while the oil is heating.

    Repeat of earlier event, Mick falls asleep, the pan catches fire, the kitchen catches fire, the fire service is called.
    Three fire engines this time as it is a multi-storey building.

    Nobody injured, I did not discover the fate of the cat. Serious $$$$$$ building damage.

    Two days later Mick goes in the Crown, during the day. Mick buys everyone, except himself, a drink, shakes their hands, thanks them for their friendship and wishes them all the best for the future.

    Mick explains that he is returning to Northern Ireland, because he is safer there!

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  15. #32
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    LOL, yeah, I fell for the "Go to Maintenance and tell them I need the wire stretcher" gag as an apprentice

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    Another one I remember being the butt of a joke.
    I worked for a company once in Cleveland, Ohio who's owner gave black tie event Christmas party's in some really cool locations every year...At the Zoo's rainforest, at the natural history museum, the Browns stadium etc. One year he held it at a fancy hotel in the city and got everyone that wanted to get a room for the night a half off discount. At the meeting when they announced it they gave the hotel phone number for us to book rooms if we wanted.
    Later that day after discussing it with the wife at lunch we decided we would take him up on the generous offer...I went up to a group of co-workers chatting at the end of the day and asked if anyone had written down the Hotel phone #,& without missing a beat, one of the co-workers pulls out his wallet, takes out a slip of paper and says "here you go." I took out my cell phone, and dialed the number. A woman answered on the other end with "FBI Cleveland, Ohio division, can I help you?"
    I hung up...fast

  17. #34
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    I came up as the boss's kid in a small tight knit shop with a lot of long time guys that literally watched me grow up so when I hit the shop floor at 17, unbeknownst me, they were all under orders from my dad to "give him a hard time".

    I spent the first couple of months fetching tools and then getting my ass chewed for coming back with the left hand version (shovels, screw drivers, you name it).
    Once while running my little clapped out lathe the top valve tech comes over and asks if I ever read the words at the base of a condom when you roll them all the way down. Me, engrossed with not loosing a finger, don't see where this line of questioning is going answer in the negative, to this he bursts into laughter and pity at the small size of my manhood and has a good laugh and goes on his way.
    This scene repeats itself a few weeks later. This time I'm wise to the words on the condom joke and figure he must have forgotten he already played this joke on me. So I answer confidently that I have seen the words at the base of the condom to which he responds by telling me to "go fuck myself up the ass with my long ass dick" and the rest of the nearby machinist join him in laughing at me for thinking I had won the round.
    That was 21 years ago and though I hated it at the time I really miss those old assholes as some of them are no longer with us.

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    Quote Originally Posted by D.Minnich View Post
    LOL, yeah, I fell for the "Go to Maintenance and tell them I need the wire stretcher" gag as an apprentice
    I used to actually have a wire stretcher meant for fencing but never had a chance to use it.

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    Wire stretchers are pretty handy. Nothing too fun about barbed wire but I have several and use when necessary. Fair amount of stretch in a 1/4 mile of wire.

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    Back many years ago I worked for a shop that had a doberman guard dog. Good dog by the way, but he did some funny stuff. One morning it was a bit cold so I wore a flannel shirt to work over my uniform. After it warmed up I hung it from my tool box. When I went to clock out that day, the flannel shirt was gone. I thought no big deal, it was a cheap one and not very new so I'm thinking someone grabbed it by accident thinking it was theirs. Two days later, the doberman is in the yard screaming about something, so we all went out there to see what his problem was. He was trying to pass the shirt, he had eaten the whole thing. In fact, there were several pieces of it in the yard already but the biggest piece was hanging from his butt about half way out. Needless to say, someone had to pull it out, so I went back in and grabbed some gloves. The rest of the machinists were laughing so hard that some of them were rolling around in the grass. This was way before the expression ROFLMAO.

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  23. #38
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    Quote Originally Posted by ManicMetalBasher View Post
    THE DEMON DRINK, PART TWO OF TWO.
    I refer below to events described in part one, #25 in this thread. Please read that first or you will not understand the following.

    Mick moves, about a mile, into a block of flats. Not as conveniently situated as before.
    Mick continues to follow his evening routine described in #25 above.

    Several more, uneventful, months go by.

    Then one day Mick meets a neighbour on the landing, the neighbour explains that he needs a favour.

    "Mick, I am working away for a week, if I give you a key to my flat can you go in once a day and give the cat a clean bowl of water
    and open a tin of Whiskas for it?" Says the neighbour.

    "No problem." says Mick. That evening Mick mentions his pussy-sitting responsibilities to a couple of Crown regulars.

    Very late the next Saturday night in the Crown Mick is pissed as usual. A local enquires about the health of the cat.

    "Christ, I forgot all about it, I have not been there for three days." Says Mick, who then empties his glass and leaves hurriedly
    on animal welfare duty. Forgetting his Chinese meal.

    Mick lets himself into his neighbour's flat. The cat drinks/eats three bowls of water/tins of cat food, as though it was starving, which it was.

    Mick is pissed, tired by the walk to the flats, and hungry. Mick is made more hungry by watching the cat break several feline eating records.
    The hunger is made more acute when Mick discovers that he has left his supper in the Crown.

    Mick decides to cook his own supper, unfortunately, he has lost, or at least cannot find, his own flat key.
    So he will have to eat and sleep in his neighbour's flat.

    The neighbour has evidently reduced his food stock in anticipation of his absence. Mick can only find cat food and potatoes, he
    decides to make some chips.

    Mick follows the cookery routine described in #25 above.

    Mick goes into his neighbour's lounge, turns the TV on, sits down with a fag while the oil is heating.

    Repeat of earlier event, Mick falls asleep, the pan catches fire, the kitchen catches fire, the fire service is called.
    Three fire engines this time as it is a multi-storey building.

    Nobody injured, I did not discover the fate of the cat. Serious $$$$$$ building damage.

    Two days later Mick goes in the Crown, during the day. Mick buys everyone, except himself, a drink, shakes their hands, thanks them for their friendship and wishes them all the best for the future.

    Mick explains that he is returning to Northern Ireland, because he is safer there!
    Well.

    I guess there's justice in that, after all.

    But watching "Judge Roy Bean" (Paul Newman)

    .. backshoot "Cowboy Bad Bob" (Stacey Keach)
    .. from a barn loft fifty feet back of him
    -- with a Sharps .50-110 Buffalo rifle

    Then remark as he drunkenly dragged that heavy old cannon through the dirt on his way back to the whisky keg..

    "If he wanted a 'chance' he should have gone to some other town."


    Sure got more memorable mileage .... faster..


  24. #39
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    Quote Originally Posted by David Carlisi View Post
    Back many years ago I worked for a shop that had a doberman guard dog. Good dog by the way, but he did some funny stuff. One morning it was a bit cold so I wore a flannel shirt to work over my uniform. After it warmed up I hung it from my tool box. When I went to clock out that day, the flannel shirt was gone. I thought no big deal, it was a cheap one and not very new so I'm thinking someone grabbed it by accident thinking it was theirs. Two days later, the doberman is in the yard screaming about something, so we all went out there to see what his problem was. He was trying to pass the shirt, he had eaten the whole thing. In fact, there were several pieces of it in the yard already but the biggest piece was hanging from his butt about half way out. Needless to say, someone had to pull it out, so I went back in and grabbed some gloves. The rest of the machinists were laughing so hard that some of them were rolling around in the grass. This was way before the expression ROFLMAO.
    You still wear the shirt?

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    Quote Originally Posted by davehud View Post
    You still wear the shirt?
    You kidding? After a trip down a Doberman's roundworm-alley stinkey shit making tube?

    He would NOT have even salvaged the damned shirt!

    But times were tough.

    You'd have to know hard-scrabble Georgia. "Back in the day?"

    You'd also have to know starving young Machinashitists?

    Tough bastards! VERY!

    Also frugal to a fault! VERY, VERY!



    And his beef-jerky lunch ... and half a chaw of Red Man's best tobaccy ...

    ..were in the pocket of that shirt.


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