Vegas & The Aftermath - Diary

[tikay]

FWIW i did a list this year and was umming and ahhing about doing another one. Woke up on the 1st, decided it was too much hassle after the last two were torpedoed

A lot of people didn't see the big picture, what it was about and what it was trying to achieve.

Pleno, you might have been in this one :-)

On the contrary bud, I don't think you saw the big picture.  

RED-DOG don't hold ur breath for Keith, the dude is an elite class flouncer!

Tikay pls tell somebody to fuck off, would be pretty funny. It's just a couple of words and I think you would find it rather liberating. Happy for you to tell me to fuck off if it makes it easier.

I've tried, many a time, but I just can't pull the trigger.

It comes across so badly in writing, unless it is from someone really common.  

If you decided to just go for it and then turn t'internet off for 2 days to cool down what would you get off your chest?

I have a list of considerable proportions, Phil, but I doubt I'd ever post it, cba with the aggro these days. I actually thought about the question all weekend, & saw 4 or 5 cracking examples, but I think they are best kept under wraps really, it'll only end badly.  

It is an age thing. A while ago, a year or so, it was like switching a light switch off, I suddenly found un-necessary aggro, bad losers & bad manners something I became completely intolerant of.

Remember, I spend a lot of time Next Door debating with all sorts of characters, the "Rigged, obv" Brigade. I am obliged to be scrupulously polite with them, of course, no matter how many insults they lob at me. I do often feel the urge, though.  

To be honest, more things make me happy than sad or angry, & I try to concentrate on the happy stuff.

Remember dear old Matthew, 5:38-42.

If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also

There you go, a bit of Bibley stuff.

[tikay]

I suppose this works for me, too.

[Jac]

I suppose this works for me, too.

Well that's disappointing. I was quite looking forward to reading your response to the latest "it's rigged" nutcase.
.
Oh and you refuse to tell anyone to Fuck Off but are happy to threaten physical harm?

[tikay]

I suppose this works for me, too.

Well that's disappointing. I was quite looking forward to reading your response to the latest "it's rigged" nutcase.
.
Oh and you refuse to tell anyone to Fuck Off but are happy to threaten physical harm?

Incred timing - was about to send you a PM.

You must have seen the Post I put on your Diary next door.

The latest "riggie" thing?

Not sure I should repeat it here, slightly unethical in a way, even though it is all over the Forum Next Door. It beggars belief. Despite all that, if Sharkscope is correct, he played around 20 DYM's there yesterday, & has now, on the site, played.......12,500 of them!

I should ignore all that stuff really, but I could not help myself & became involved. At least I managed, with monsta self-restraint, to keep my replies polite. I think hhfttyjjgt (who joined blonde a few days ago, I see, but has yet to Post), engaged with him though. He likes a bit of that.

Merry Christmas to Penny, Harry, & you.

I'll send that PM in the next few minutes, it's a belated postscript to a matter you discussed with me a while back.


Anyway, this is for you. You know why.

Have some of that.

[Tal]

Just found that thread. Tremendous.

I'd best not tell him about my tournament history in Vegas. He'd never go.

I mean I only misplayed hands in all of the tournaments...

[tikay]

Just found that thread. Tremendous.

I'd best not tell him about my tournament history in Vegas. He'd never go.

I mean I only misplayed hands in all of the tournaments...

"That" thread?

I think there are about 12 different ones!

On a mission

Anyway, I gave myself a good talking to last night, & I am disposed to be indisposed to reply any more.

I'll sit on my hands.

[BigAdz]

I must admit Tikay, you are a bit of a spoilsport.

I have tried to engage you in a number of dust ups, but you just won't play along.

Such restraint is only to be admired.

Maybe in the New Year.

Happy Christmas. Have a good one.

[redsimon]

So I wasn't the only one to immediately log in at the other place and see what the fuss was about.

Grief tourism increasing the traffic there

[Tal]

So I wasn't the only one to immediately log in at the other place and see what the fuss was about.

Grief tourism increasing the traffic there

Blatantly a dummy account to increase the viewership.

Forums are rigged, innit?

[Longines]

Found this via Twitter this morning.

http://gizmodo.com/the-sr-71-blackbird-took-its-first-flight-50-years-ago-1674153018/all

Click to see full-size image.

"The Fastest Guys Out There" — Written by Brian Schul

There were a lot of things we couldn't do in an SR-71, but we were the fastest guys on the block and loved reminding our fellow aviators of this fact. People often asked us if, because of this fact, it was fun to fly the jet. Fun would not be the first word I would use to describe flying this plane. Intense, maybe. Even cerebral. But there was one day in our Sled experience when we would have to say that it was pure fun to be the fastest guys out there, at least for a moment.

It occurred when Walt and I were flying our final training sortie. We needed 100 hours in the jet to complete our training and attain Mission Ready status. Somewhere over Colorado we had passed the century mark. We had made the turn in Arizona and the jet was performing flawlessly. My gauges were wired in the front seat and we were starting to feel pretty good about ourselves, not only because we would soon be flying real missions but because we had gained a great deal of confidence in the plane in the past ten months. Ripping across the barren deserts 80,000 feet below us, I could already see the coast of California from the Arizona border. I was, finally, after many humbling months of simulators and study, ahead of the jet.

I was beginning to feel a bit sorry for Walter in the back seat. There he was, with no really good view of the incredible sights before us, tasked with monitoring four different radios. This was good practice for him for when we began flying real missions, when a priority transmission from headquarters could be vital. It had been difficult, too, for me to relinquish control of the radios, as during my entire flying career I had controlled my own transmissions. But it was part of the division of duties in this plane and I had adjusted to it. I still insisted on talking on the radio while we were on the ground, however. Walt was so good at many things, but he couldn't match my expertise at sounding smooth on the radios, a skill that had been honed sharply with years in fighter squadrons where the slightest radio miscue was grounds for beheading. He understood that and allowed me that luxury. Just to get a sense of what Walt had to contend with, I pulled the radio toggle switches and monitored the frequencies along with him. The predominant radio chatter was from Los Angeles Center, far below us, controlling daily traffic in their sector. While they had us on their scope (albeit briefly), we were in uncontrolled airspace and normally would not talk to them unless we needed to descend into their airspace. We listened as the shaky voice of a lone Cessna pilot asked Center for a readout of his ground speed. Center replied: November Charlie 175, I'm showing you at ninety knots on the ground. Now the thing to understand about Center controllers, was that whether they were talking to a rookie pilot in a Cessna, or to Air Force One, they always spoke in the exact same, calm, deep, professional, tone that made one feel important. I referred to it as the " HoustonCentervoice." I have always felt that after years of seeing documentaries on this country's space program and listening to the calm and distinct voice of the Houstoncontrollers, that all other controllers since then wanted to sound like that… and that they basically did. And it didn't matter what sector of the country we would be flying in, it always seemed like the same guy was talking. Over the years that tone of voice had become somewhat of a comforting sound to pilots everywhere. Conversely, over the years, pilots always wanted to ensure that, when transmitting, they sounded like Chuck Yeager, or at least like John Wayne. Better to die than sound bad on the radios.

Just moments after the Cessna's inquiry, a Twin Beech piped up on frequency, in a rather superior tone, asking for his groundspeed. Twin Beach, I have you at one hundred and twenty-five knots of ground speed. Boy, I thought, the Beechcraft really must think he is dazzling his Cessna brethren. Then out of the blue, a navy F-18 pilot out of NAS Lemoore came up on frequency. You knew right away it was a Navy jock because he sounded very cool on the radios. Center, Dusty 52 ground speed check. Before Center could reply, I'm thinking to myself, hey, Dusty 52 has a ground speed indicator in that million-dollar cockpit, so why is he asking Center for a readout? Then I got it, ol' Dusty here is making sure that every bug smasher from Mount Whitney to the Mojave knows what true speed is. He's the fastest dude in the valley today, and he just wants everyone to know how much fun he is having in his new Hornet. And the reply, always with that same, calm, voice, with more distinct alliteration than emotion: Dusty 52, Center, we have you at 620 on the ground. And I thought to myself, is this a ripe situation, or what? As my hand instinctively reached for the mic button, I had to remind myself that Walt was in control of the radios. Still, I thought, it must be done – in mere seconds we'll be out of the sector and the opportunity will be lost. That Hornet must die, and die now. I thought about all of our Sim training and how important it was that we developed well as a crew and knew that to jump in on the radios now would destroy the integrity of all that we had worked toward becoming. I was torn. Somewhere, 13 miles above Arizona, there was a pilot screaming inside his space helmet. Then, I heard it. The click of the mic button from the back seat. That was the very moment that I knew Walter and I had become a crew. Very professionally, and with no emotion, Walter spoke: Los Angeles Center, Aspen 20, can you give us a ground speed check? There was no hesitation, and the replay came as if was an everyday request. Aspen 20, I show you at one thousand eight hundred and forty-two knots, across the ground. I think it was the forty-two knots that I liked the best, so accurate and proud was Center to deliver that information without hesitation, and you just knew he was smiling. But the precise point at which I knew that Walt and I were going to be really good friends for a long time was when he keyed the mic once again to say, in his most fighter-pilot-like voice: Ah, Center, much thanks, We're showing closer to nineteen hundred on the money. For a moment Walter was a god. And we finally heard a little crack in the armor of the HoustonCentervoice, when L.A.came back with: Roger that Aspen, Your equipment is probably more accurate than ours. You boys have a good one.

It all had lasted for just moments, but in that short, memorable sprint across the southwest, the Navy had been flamed, all mortal airplanes on freq were forced to bow before the King of Speed, and more importantly, Walter and I had crossed the threshold of being a crew. A fine day's work. We never heard another transmission on that frequency all the way to the coast. For just one day, it truly was fun being the fastest guys out there.

[tikay]

What a tragic story, a lad killed after such a trivial fallout.




An 18-year-old high school student from Lake Stevens, Washington died after allegedly letting someone punch him in the face during a dispute at a party.
 
According to FOX Q13 in Seattle, the Snohomish County (Wash.) Sheriff’s Office said another 18-year-old is now in custody for second-degree manslaughter following the incident.
 
The dispute reportedly began around midnight Pacific Time Sunday at a house party. The victim allegedly backed his car into another vehicle parked behind his. He then left the party, but returned a short while later.
 
Upon his return another 18-year-old, who was sitting in the other car, confronted the victim, and the two began shoving each other.
 
Eventually the teens decided to resolve the fight by allowing the suspect to punch the victim once in the face.
 
Local deputies said the victim agreed to the resolution, stood in the road and let the suspect swing.
 
Once hit the victim fell to the ground and lay unconscious. According to KOMO News, an ABC-affiliated station in Seattle, a witness told investigators he heard a cracking noise when the victim’s head hit the pavement.
 
The suspect, with the help of others, carried him to the house.
 
The victim was reportedly breathing but did not regain consciousness. He was eventually taken to a hospital by a friend, where he later died.
 
KOMO News reports the suspect, 18-year-old Michael Galen, tried to persuade a witness to tell authorities Galen punched him in self-defense, but the witness refused.

[Karabiner]

For many years I have considered you to be a fellow chrimbophobe Tony.

Now I hear that you have renounced your chrimbophobia to whole-heartedly embrace the tawdry retail-fuelled load of codswallop known as christmas, even to the point that you have a bebaubled erection in your front room complete with little pressies underneath. I wouldn't be at all surprised if it has those little flashing lights and a Julian Clary on top too.

I think we need pictorial evidence of this volte-face.

Merry Xmas.

PS My roast beef and I have room for one more should you come to your senses.

[tikay]

For many years I have considered you to be a fellow chrimbophobe Tony.

Now I hear that you have renounced your chrimbophobia to whole-heartedly embrace the tawdry retail-fuelled load of codswallop known as christmas, even to the point that you have a bebaubled erection in your front room complete with little pressies underneath. I wouldn't be at all surprised if it has those little flashing lights and a Julian Clary on top too.

I think we need pictorial evidence of this volte-face.

Merry Xmas.

PS My roast beef and I have room for one more should you come to your senses.

I wish to refute that Ralph, I remain fully against all this Xmas bollox & nonsense.

It may or may not be true that certain domestic circumstances have obliged me to have a "debaubled erection", complete with bloody lights & everything, but I had no control whatsoever over that matter. A refusal to co-operate may have caused me the loss of certain privileges.

Sadly, I shall not be able to join you to partake in your splendid roast beef, as further penalties have been incurred by way of a Turkey dinner & all that sort of stuff. 

However, please be assured, I've set my mind to "under no circumstances shall I enjoy this" mode, & I fully intend to sulk all Xmas.

[atdc21]

Hi Tikay,
Did you know it costs a whole £1 now to cross the Clifton suspension bridge !
Still better than what ze French charge for the Severn i guess 

[hhyftrftdr]

My ears are burning