Wake Up

I feel bad for people who get hangovers. It must suck for you guys. After polishing off the rest of my half-gallon of rum and a few beers later I can go into a nice alcohol induced sleep. I sleep like a fucking baby when I drink.

The rednecks are here. Yes folks, it's that time of year again. The Daytona 500 is today, so I really don't plan on leaving my house if I can help it. Basically unless there is a severe medical emergency, or I run out of booze, I wont be leaving. Usually I'd complain about all the shit that sucks when the 3/4 of a million or however many rednecks descend on my shitty college town. But this year really hasn't been that much of a hindrance for me. I swear I've hit every single time perfectly. Every time I've had to go to or from campus I've been about 15 minutes on average. That's pretty damn good considering it's raceweek. Not to mention yesterday when I went flying I hit the times absolutely perfect. I drove into campus during one of the races, so there was no one on the streets, and then when I came home the race was long over.

Oh yeah, flying. I flew for 4 hours yesterday. My brain asplode. I had such a raging headache after that marathon. It wasn't that the flying itself was hard. I just did some simple airwork, (reviews of slowflight, stalls, steepturns, etc.) and some performance landings out at X47. I had some interesting incidents while I was out at the lovely Flagler County Airport.

1. Some fucking banner tower cut me off.

Apparently if you're a banner tower you can completely disregard pattern etiquette. This fucker crossed the field perpendicular to the active runway, and then proceeded to do a 50 degree steep turn to bank back around for a landing on the active. The same active that I was currently on a 3/4 mile final for. Nice going dickhead, now I have to go around. That shit pisses me off more than anything else. If everyone else has to follow the rules, why don't you. Just because you're the only one here working doesn't mean you're fucking special. In all honesty if the mans aircraft had stalled out on his large bank and gone careening into the trees and exploded into a fireball, I probably wouldn't even tell anyone on the radio.

The FBO would be on the radio saying, "Excuse me, did a 152 just explode into the trees."

And I would reply, "I didn't see anything. Go back to watching Tin Cup you wanker."

2. I almost hit the Goodyear Blimp

Yes. The blimp was making its way back to Flagler from the Daytona Raceway and was coming in to land as I was doing my pattern work. Apparently blimps don't have to do patterns or follow any sort of procedure, because they just did whatever the hell they wanted. Everything was going to be fine as they went to land in the middle of the field, but there was a gust of wind or something and the blimp began to rise. So I shoved it into full rental power and climbed about 2-3 hundred feet and got out of their way. Yeah, it wasn't really all that close, but it's fun to say. "I almost hit the Goodyear blimp."

And all I could think about the entire time I was doing landings while the blimp was in the airspace was the quote from spaceballs, "Oh no, here comes the Badyear blimp."

Ahhhh, it was funnier in my head at the time I suppose.

Huzzah, I finally got my new pool cue. It's a Viking F92, and it's a sweet little unit.
She's a Pimpstress. That's for sure. Playing pool is so much more fun with a nice cue. It's a nicely weighted 19oz. And the linen wrap is such a step up from holding sweaty plastic the entire night.


End this entry for no reason and with no closure, you wont do it.