Life member Aviator has passed away. (Page 5 of 7)
For someone I had never met in person, seemed like a great guy here. Sorry to hear of this
|
The Frog is Pepe. Someone shouts Hey Pepe @ Hillary rally, then Roger Stone Jedi Mindfucked someone in the Hillary campaign by putting Pepe in the Deplorables meme and now the shit is getting real.
|
Damn, that sucks. for those saying "he seemed like good dude", let me assure you, he was . I had the priviledge of meeting him at the BRC (old-timers, remember that?) in IL June 2002. As a local I did not need to camp, at the event, so I just wandered aimlessly, mingling. Ran across Aviator, in the evening, recognized him from his posts, & we struck up a conversation. in the camping area, where most folks had a one or two-man tent up, Aviator had a full-blown army canvas tent, with all the amenities, like he was deployed, or something. I said, "wow, that's a nice setup", & he was all like, "come over & check it out!". We enjoyed fellowship on that sweltering June evening, in IL, ice cold beers in hand, I shared stories of shlepping about in the music business, he talked of his military career, & joyfully described his adventures dredging for gold, in Alaska. Two total strangers, with nothing in common but some silly gun website, but, just like that , we were friends. Remember it like yesterday. Life is funny, like that. Godspeed, brother, when we meet at the big canvas tent in the sky, first beer is on me.
|
|
Hamlet Act 3, Scene 1 For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of th' unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscovered country from whose bourn No traveler returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all, And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, And enterprises of great pith and moment With this regard their currents turn awry, And lose the name of action.Soft you now, The fair Ophelia!Nymph, in thy orisons Be all my sins remembered. |
Like a midget at a urinal, I had to be on my toes--Lt. Frank Drebin
