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Discussion in 'Politics' started by AlexDaGator, Jul 29, 2016.
If a Vol fan happened to read this forum they probably had an orgasm.
As you wish: http://www.foxnews.com/entertainment/2016/08/02/stars-summer-style-trend-going-braless.html
As Art Linkletter used to say, "You asked for it." Here's part 1 of 2. Admiral Rickover, of course, was the father of the nuclear navy. With every new ship launched, Rickover insisted being on board for alpha sea trials. Much to the chagrin of design engineers, ship builders, captains and senior Navy management, he pushed the propulsion train and reactor systems to the limits of their design envelope and beyond. It was his way of proving that the vessel built was the vessel he ordered and not a flawed substitute. He was aboard our sub, USS San Francisco SSN 711, when we set to sea out of Newport News Shipyard for the first time in March of 1981. The reactor is the ships primary source of power for propulsion and electricity. Lose it and your ability to operate the ship is severely hampered. Depending on circumstances, it may threaten the safety of the ship and crew. One of Rickover's "tests" was to run a reactor (Rx) SCRAM or shutdown drill for each duty section of which there were three. One purpose of the test was to gage the readiness of the new crew to rapidly respond to an unexplained Rx SCRAM, identify and correct the cause, then restart and return the Rx to full power. I was the reactor operator (RO) for the third duty section. Our crew was forewarned Rickover liked to throw a "wrench" into his drills placing stress on crew members and maybe forcing mistakes. We were told to follow his orders but not to lose focus on the job at hand. The first two sections handled their drills well... nothing unusual or untoward occurred. Then our section assumed the watch. Unlike the Main Control Room (referred to as "Control) in the forward part of the sub, the Engineering control room (referred to as Maneuvering) in the aft part of the sub was nothing more than a compact 12'x10' or so space packed with 3 control panels with an enlisted watchstander seated at each. My panel, the RPCP (Rx Plant Control Panel) stood in the middle of one bulkhead flanked by an electrical plant control panel to the right and steam plant control panel to the left. Immediately behind my spartan chair was a small podium and stool normally occupied by the Engineering officer of the watch or EOOW. But this day there sat a frail white-haired scrooge of a man, Admiral Hyman G. Rickover. To his right stood a nerdy nuclear physicist consultant/gofer. The EOOW, the senior officer hypothetically in command, was to Rickover's left. I literally occasionally would feel the the Admiral's breath on the back of my neck. All was normal, steady-state until Rickover turned to the EOOW and said in a calm almost soothing voice, "You're dead." EOOW: "Yes, Sir. I'm dead." ( EOOW remains standing looking straight ahead at the control panels.) Rickover (again softly): Did you hear what I said young man? EOOW: "Yes, Sir. I'm dead. (Still standing.) Rickover: "THEN WHAT THE HELL DO DEAD PEOPLE DO!?!! The EOOW wavered nervously for an eternal second...then fell like a wood plank slamming onto the steel deck. I heard the fall and saw it to my left with peripheral vision. How he failed to seriously injure himself is beyond me. Then, as senior enlisted watchstander, I announced in a strong firm voice, "The EOOW is dead. Petty Officer Turner is in charge of Maneuvering." (To be continued in part 2 of 2.)
As a Gator fan and neutered hound, I just curled up into a fetal position whimpering.
... hurry, I'm used to binge watching stuff now.
And topless evening dresses.
I apparently missed out on that era.
I was born on Eglin Air Force base in Florida. I was raised by a single mother who worked 2 jobs to support me and my brother. Mother is a strong willed strict disciplinarian who raised us to respect authority and your elders and we had a steady diet of whuppings. Mother also has very strong views on race and we were constantly reminded and given examples on why white people were evil. At the age of 10 mom got a better job and we moved to North Carolina, At 13 I began to play organized sports but mother made me work mowing lawns, recycling bottles and cans, cleaning gutters washing cars, to help pay for cleats, uniforms, entry fees. At 16 I was driving school buses and working at Mcdonalds on the weekends. I began contributing to the household and thought I would have some say in household matters. but my mother the dictator squashed that real quick. I graduated High School and knew that the classroom wasn't for me. I joined a plumber apprentice program. One day while under a crawl space I came face to face with the biggest black snake I had ever seen it looked like a bicycle inner tube. I freaked out raised my head and gashed it on a support beam. needless to say that was my last day as a plumber apprentice. I joined the military and it changed my life and how I see and judge people. I traveled around the world Germany, Korea and realized what mother taught me was not exactly true. there are great people of all races and you cant judge people based on race. I loved the military because we were all green. I served in desert storm and again the example was we wasn't African Americans, or Asian Americans or American Indians or White Americans we were simply AMERICANS. After the military I returned home and got accepted to the sheriffs academy after graduating the sheriffs academy. I was appointed to the detention center while I waited my appointment to become a road deputy. I met my wife who was working in the deputy clerks office and we had a daughter. I left the sheriffs office and started my career with the dept. of public safety. I would describe myself as an independent i believe in a strong military defense, liberal on social issues, less government, I'm pro choice. conservative with my money(my wife isn't) I have come full circle when it comes to people and realize that biases/predjudices doesn't necessary mean racism. I know what racism looks like and sounds like and if the inner voice tells you its wrong then its wrong you can spin it how you like. but I don't get caught up with that and the stereotypes. I volunteer my time to coach football, and I mentor at risk youths doing my part to give back to the black community. I love military history and I'm and avid bass fisherman and grill master. I am a Christian who believes I am my brothers keeper and quite simply I'm blessed . I will always help you if I can. as my mother has taught me god is always watching and listening. Thru all my travels and all the great people I've met along the way my mother remains the most inspirational figure in my life.
Here goes. Now, this is a story all about how My life got flipped-turned upside down And I'd like to take a minute Just sit right there I'll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel Air In west Philadelphia born and raised On the playground was where I spent most of my days Chillin' out maxin' relaxin' all cool And all shootin some b-ball outside of the school When a couple of guys who were up to no good Started making trouble in my neighborhood I got in one little fight and my mom got scared She said 'You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel Air' I begged and pleaded with her day after day But she packed my suit case and sent me on my way She gave me a kiss and then she gave me my ticket. I put my Walkman on and said, 'I might as well kick it'. First class, yo this is bad Drinking orange juice out of a champagne glass. Is this what the people of Bel-Air living like? Hmm this might be alright. But wait I hear they're prissy, bourgeois, all that Is this the type of place that they just send this cool cat? I don't think so I'll see when I get there I hope they're prepared for the prince of Bel-Air Well, the plane landed and when I came out There was a dude who looked like a cop standing there with my name out I ain't trying to get arrested yet I just got here I sprang with the quickness like lightning, disappeared I whistled for a cab and when it came near The license plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror If anything I could say that this cab was rare But I thought 'Nah, forget it' - 'Yo, homes to Bel Air' I pulled up to the house about seven or eigth And I yelled to the cabbie 'Yo homes smell ya later' I looked at my kingdom I was finally there To sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel Air
IMHO, your story is every bit as inspirational as any of those about the early colonials who fought for life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Thank you. My day is better.
Did you use blow darts?
You guys keep pushing..... and I'll post some real photos.
Yep. Looks like a blow dart gun to me.
And that is just what you have your wife do to get you in the mood.
Ahhhh. The old "triple whammy". All the more reason (besides the obvious) to have lots and lots sex to keep the prostate healthy. At least that's what I tell my wife. http://www.harvardprostateknowledge.org/does-frequent-ejaculation-help-ward-off-prostate-cancer
In Orlando, this joke is funny....
I'm just going to start permabanning everyone
Not you. There are laws against it.
ahhh affirmative action
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