Originally Posted by
cccorlew
I think it's a kinda funny photo. I'd have laughed and passed it on to my friends.
That's been my approach. When I get occasionally mocked or ribbed I respond with more self deprecation, mixed with a bit chest thumping, sometimes along the line of "Yeah, hard to believe I can propel this fat ass 30-40 miles a day on a bike".
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This is Africa, 1943. War spits out its violence overhead and the sandy graveyard swallows it up. Her name is King Nine, B-25, medium bomber, Twelfth Air Force. On a hot, still morning she took off from Tunisia to bomb the southern tip of Italy. An errant piece of flak tore a hole in a wing tank and, like a wounded bird, this is where she landed, not to return on this day, or any other day.