Jackass HitAndRun of the day
02-17-08 | 01:22 PM
#27
Senior Member
Joined: Apr 2007
Posts: 374
Likes: 0
its good that we all know every angle of this story and have all the facts straight: oh wait, we don't. so until we do why dont we stop playing the blame game. I agree that cars tend to be at fault in the majority of cases i have heard, but thats not necessarily true for this case.
02-17-08 | 02:41 PM
#28
Senior Member
Joined: Jul 2007
Posts: 312
Likes: 0
From: Houston, TX
Hahahahaahaaaahhaaaaaaaaaa...
You are funny, sir.
I have a car. I like my car.
I have bikes. I like my bikes.
I once had a day where I drove my Honda CR-V down the highway that used to be forests (like everything. You know, before you started breathing) and I had lunch at a Taco Bell. I then went to the Marine Corps Recruiting Center and looked into my options. Then I went back to my apartment, next to some high tension powerlines. (I didn't eat any beef though, I had just eaten Taco Bell.) There were many "illegal immigrants" (can we say *******?) along the way and I didn't hit any of them with my car.
You are not better than me.
You are funny, sir.
I have a car. I like my car.
I have bikes. I like my bikes.
I once had a day where I drove my Honda CR-V down the highway that used to be forests (like everything. You know, before you started breathing) and I had lunch at a Taco Bell. I then went to the Marine Corps Recruiting Center and looked into my options. Then I went back to my apartment, next to some high tension powerlines. (I didn't eat any beef though, I had just eaten Taco Bell.) There were many "illegal immigrants" (can we say *******?) along the way and I didn't hit any of them with my car.
You are not better than me.
Last edited by Tom Stormcrowe; 02-17-08 at 05:57 PM.
02-17-08 | 06:32 PM
#32
Had it not been for the fatality these two Darwin candidates would probably have mated.
__________________
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.
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.
