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Keith&Co.
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Uh huh.... and....?
Keith&Co.
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Whew! Almost didn't make it to work today!
I was behind a pickup towing a trailer.
His brake lights worked fine, and his turn signal but...
Well, when he had his turn signals on, the lights on the trailer were in perfect synch with the lights of the pickup. When he braked, the lights came on and off together.
But if he applied the brakes WHILE his turn signal was on, the turn signals changed to being 180 OUT of synch. It was a really weird effect.
And I was sitting there, trying to figure out how he did this, how could I do this on purpose, much less by accident.
And then realized I was in the entirely wrong lane to get to work. I had to go through the intersection and U turn.
But if he'd been making a turn at my last intersection before General Dynamics, I'd probably have followed him all the way to Connecticut or wherever....
So I told this to the guys at work. They now have a white board covered in a wiring diagram, trying to recreate the effect.
Our boss, familiar with how our conversations usually go, can't figure out how the diagram connects to the sexual perversions commonly practiced by submarine sailors.
I was behind a pickup towing a trailer.
His brake lights worked fine, and his turn signal but...
Well, when he had his turn signals on, the lights on the trailer were in perfect synch with the lights of the pickup. When he braked, the lights came on and off together.
But if he applied the brakes WHILE his turn signal was on, the turn signals changed to being 180 OUT of synch. It was a really weird effect.
And I was sitting there, trying to figure out how he did this, how could I do this on purpose, much less by accident.
And then realized I was in the entirely wrong lane to get to work. I had to go through the intersection and U turn.
But if he'd been making a turn at my last intersection before General Dynamics, I'd probably have followed him all the way to Connecticut or wherever....
So I told this to the guys at work. They now have a white board covered in a wiring diagram, trying to recreate the effect.
Our boss, familiar with how our conversations usually go, can't figure out how the diagram connects to the sexual perversions commonly practiced by submarine sailors.
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Keith, you make it sound like it would be so much fun working on a submarine. I think I'd have a blast being that I'm extremely gassy.
thebeave
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It does sound like fun, though I've always wondered about the, ahem...uh...er...let's see... release of "male sexual tension buildup". Are there Navy regulations about this? Are there giant "jizz filters" on the sub shower drains or something? Inquiring minds want to know!
Keith&Co.
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There was one individual of a really un-fun religious background who did not release any of the tensions that build up normally in healthy males of reproductive age. He did not read any of the girlie magazines (technically illegal on all Navy ships (A technicality seldom enforced in any meaningful manner, though that might be different now that they have coed submarines), nor watch any of the porn (see previous technical note) and during movies of a certain nature, would look down a the deck when women wearing scanty or less were on the screen. He so assiduously avoided any sort of simulation that he stopped having wet dreams.
Come to find out, if there's no natural release of certain byproducts of natural human processes, they go stale. He woke up one morning with 'seamy yellow discharge' in his underwear.
He looked through some of the books in the ship's library and self-diagnosed a venereal disease. Reported to the ship's Corpsman. Who immediately asked, "Who've you been sexing?" Sailor insisted he was a virgin. Doc asked a lot of questions and finally determined, "No, look, if you don't flush that stuff out, it rots. And the body WILL flush out the dead sperm when it builds up."
He was the only man i've ever met, in or out of the Navy, with a prescription to beat off 'daily or as needed.'
He was poorly served by his upbringing and had to consult... Um. Experts. Or at least very experienced sailors.
First thing we did was laminate his prescription ("Don't wanna lose THAT baby!") then we introduced him to our smut locker. At the time, on that ship, it was a massive archive, a repository for reference material picked up over many years in ports in Scotland, Puerto Rico, Spain and Italy.
He went... Wild, really. Was in the rack at every opportunity. After three months of lecturing us all on the various sins we were guilty of, now he was shouting "I REPENT!" three times every off-watch period.
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Most guys make do with a Patrol Sock. Use it at the appropriate moment, stuff it into the laundry bag and recycle.
Personally, i can no longer get erect unless i have a paper towel on my chest.
Keith&Co.
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It can be fun, yes. And competitive. One guy used to carefully track his digestion to learn what food produced the most gas and what produced the strongest smells.
Then the son of a bitch would stand outside the fan room intake and fart, so every space in the ship smelled his output. They actually called away a fire two times. "There's an acrid smell in the torpedo room!" "There's an acrid smell in berthing!" There's an acrid smell in... God DAMN it, Sere! Knock it off!"
James Brown
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Is that why the Navy calls it, "hot bunks"?
Keith&Co.
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No, hot racking is when two people share a rack and sleep in shifts. The bunkie is still warm from the last guy when you get into it.
However, if you think it's awkward when the other guys in the bunkroom can hear you beat off, try being confronted by someone who had to sleep in your wet spot.
bilby
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If you scaled down a model of the Solar System, so that the sun was at your head, and the orbit of Pluto at your feet, then Uranus would be just where you would expect it to be.
Wiploc
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Since Pluto's crosses that of Neptune, you should probably envision the person as doing yoga.
gmbteach
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Keith&Co.
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Keith&Co.
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Boss wants us to start making our own graphics rather than just assigning graphic requirements to the people who were hired for their graphics skills.
I'm not sure which ticked him off more, that I spent two hours making a line drawing or that he can't tell if it's the missile's phases of flight OR a venus fly trap eating a submarine's trash...
I'm not sure which ticked him off more, that I spent two hours making a line drawing or that he can't tell if it's the missile's phases of flight OR a venus fly trap eating a submarine's trash...
gmbteach
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My cat Tabitha is weird.
She has a fetish for plastic. She will lick plastic shopping bags to her hearts content.... and bubble wrap? She loves to lick and chew it!
Well today, she actually started chewing on a plastic shopping bag full of bridal magazines (that's the wedding kind of bridal Bilby, not the horse kind) that I am giving to a friend who collects them. She seemed happy. Yes, I checked her bowl. Yes, there is food in it.
She has a fetish for plastic. She will lick plastic shopping bags to her hearts content.... and bubble wrap? She loves to lick and chew it!
Well today, she actually started chewing on a plastic shopping bag full of bridal magazines (that's the wedding kind of bridal Bilby, not the horse kind) that I am giving to a friend who collects them. She seemed happy. Yes, I checked her bowl. Yes, there is food in it.
Mine absolutely loved the little circles you get from punching paper to put in a 3-ring binder. Except she only wanted the ones from yellow paper, the ones from ordinary white paper were ignored. Spill some mixed ones and she would pick out and eat the yellow ones, leaving the white ones be. Cats are pretty much colorblind!
I had a kitty who loved playing fetch with the little plastic rings that come off of milk jugs and also the little coated rubber bands for hair. We'd toss them from the dining room through the kitchen and she'd chase them, catch them, and bring them back to us. She could do this for hours. So fun.
gmbteach
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WOW! That is a clever pudda tat!
She was clever. She was semi-feral (living on her own but apparently cared for at some point--when we took her in for spaying the vet went in--oops, already done) when we took her in, she had learned to solve problems on her own rather than just cry for human help. (Example: My mother's cat--empty food bowl, he would complain. My cat--empty food bowl, she would hunt down the bag of cat food. When that resulted in her getting locked in a closet she would simply wait for someone to open the door, she wouldn't make a fuss.)