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Things that make you laugh...

Several years ago, a new high-ranking officer transferred into the command which oversees the nuclear weapons program for the Navy. He immediately scheduled visits to the biggest contractors to learn, from the horsies' mouths, exactly what each contributes to the program.

I was tasked to prepare and deliver a large presentation on what's called The Fire Control Problem... This refers to all the issues which must be calculated by the Fire Control System to accurately deliver a nuclear warhead onto the heads of the bad guys. Earth's rotation, Earth's rotation discrepancies, ship's motion, wear and tear on the guidance system, the time of day, weather over the targets, ship's position, depth... It's a long list.

I think i did a not-too-bad job. Then they changed the date of the presentation to when my eye surgery was scheduled. So someone else gave it to the Commodore. He put his name all over this thing. Which was fine, it's easier than explaining the matter to the officer. If Tom wrote it, but Dick is in front of you, then any mention of Tom is just a distraction. And he won't remember Dick's name for long.

Anyway, they're gearing up again to give this presentation. The guy who gave it before, he's gone on to a different company. So they're looking for someone who can learn the content and give the presentation... Like, you know, _I_ was going to do years ago.

Ten people suggested my name. Near as I can tell, not a single one of them remembers that I wrote this thing originally. Because of the ten suggestifiers, four of them have contacted me to make sure i understand the original intention of the presentation. Two of them sat through Dan's delivery...

Of my presentation. So they KNOW what i need to learn about missile accuracy and guidance correction coefficients and how to calculate 100 arc seconds of accumulated error and its affect on missile accuracy.

But, like dealing with officers, i don't try to explain facts to them. That will take time and, I know, NOT prevent them from telling me whatever they were going to say, anyway. It'll just take longer as they preface each fucking sentence with 'Well, i just wanted to make sure...'

I just keep nodding my head and pretending to take notes on what they're telling me about what I need to know about this lecture. And then hide my notebook before anyone sees the doodles of the hangman's noose, the bloody axe, the guillotine... The word 'Stupid' in steely block letters with rivets...
 
Several years ago, a new high-ranking officer transferred into the command which oversees the nuclear weapons program for the Navy. He immediately scheduled visits to the biggest contractors to learn, from the horsies' mouths, exactly what each contributes to the program.

I was tasked to prepare and deliver a large presentation on what's called The Fire Control Problem... This refers to all the issues which must be calculated by the Fire Control System to accurately deliver a nuclear warhead onto the heads of the bad guys. Earth's rotation, Earth's rotation discrepancies, ship's motion, wear and tear on the guidance system, the time of day, weather over the targets, ship's position, depth... It's a long list.

I think i did a not-too-bad job. Then they changed the date of the presentation to when my eye surgery was scheduled. So someone else gave it to the Commodore. He put his name all over this thing. Which was fine, it's easier than explaining the matter to the officer. If Tom wrote it, but Dick is in front of you, then any mention of Tom is just a distraction. And he won't remember Dick's name for long.

Anyway, they're gearing up again to give this presentation. The guy who gave it before, he's gone on to a different company. So they're looking for someone who can learn the content and give the presentation... Like, you know, _I_ was going to do years ago.

Ten people suggested my name. Near as I can tell, not a single one of them remembers that I wrote this thing originally. Because of the ten suggestifiers, four of them have contacted me to make sure i understand the original intention of the presentation. Two of them sat through Dan's delivery...

Of my presentation. So they KNOW what i need to learn about missile accuracy and guidance correction coefficients and how to calculate 100 arc seconds of accumulated error and its affect on missile accuracy.

But, like dealing with officers, i don't try to explain facts to them. That will take time and, I know, NOT prevent them from telling me whatever they were going to say, anyway. It'll just take longer as they preface each fucking sentence with 'Well, i just wanted to make sure...'

I just keep nodding my head and pretending to take notes on what they're telling me about what I need to know about this lecture. And then hide my notebook before anyone sees the doodles of the hangman's noose, the bloody axe, the guillotine... The word 'Stupid' in steely block letters with rivets...

Advice: Keep or take pictures of those "notes". I recently found some old notebooks that had similar meeting "notes", and one doodle in particular made my wife gush; it was an abstraction of two dogs and a cat (ours). She made me photograph it, enlarge and print it. Then she framed it, and it now hangs proudly over our ... bathtub. You never know a hard-to-please woman might take a shine to something.
(You can thank me later :) )
 
Elsewhere, Hickdive has stated:
Valves should be opened to the stop and then backed off a little.
I don't think that's a controversial statement unless you try to make it a universal rule.

On the submarine, toilets and other systems drain into holding tanks that are regularly pumped overboard. The proper way to flush such a tank is to crack open the pressurized air supply valve and allow pressurized air to EASE the pressure of the tank up to slightly above sea pressure at the current depth.
Then you secure the supply and open the valve that allows the tank's contents to ease out into the sea. Just before the tank empties completely, you shut the output valve so we don't blow air out, as bubbles could give away the sub's position. Then you vent the tank and carry on.

A common practice among some of our younger sailors with the attention span of a gnat was to crack the air pressure valve to fully open. This pressurized the Holding Tank to 700 PSI.

Sea pressure would be about 20-30 PSI at that point, so when the outgoing valve is opened, 700 PSI empties the tank like explosive diarrhea. The air bubble bursts to frighten sonar and make the ship rock as if we'd hit something.

In port, though, we change the line-up slightly. The usual output is out the bottom of the sub. Tied up next to the pier, we pump out the top of the sub, to a fitting that uses a 5-inch fire hose to convey the ordure to the base waste management system on the shore.

One of our idiots was in the habit of "I've got 700 pounds, I'm going to use it" and didn't change that for pumping sanitary tanks in port. I was near the hatch when the ecology fitting started to rattle like a pressure cooker and the hose shot up into the sky like a redwood. I dove in the hatch and dogged it behind me. To no one's surprise the hose burst. It flopped around like a snake throwing up the last 400 meals.

Shit went....


Everywhere.

We got the topside of our submarine. We got the topside of the next submarine over. We got most of the decks on the tender vessel. We got the wharf. We got the tug boat. If there had been low flying birds, we'd have gotten them, too. The commanding officer of the Tender, who gets a special parking space down on the wharf so he doesn't have to walk all the way down like the rest of us peons do? We got his car, just a tiny bit.

My quick thinking kept us from having to clean shit inside the submarine, but that was the only bright spot in a shitty week of cleaning...

To this day, I open valves as if it's possible that there's 700 pounds of shit waiting to rush out of it, and only as far as I need to get what I need. Water, air, hydraulics...
 
One of our idiots was in the habit of "I've got 700 pounds, I'm going to use it" and didn't change that for pumping sanitary tanks in port. I was near the hatch when the ecology fitting started to rattle like a pressure cooker and the hose shot up into the sky like a redwood. I dove in the hatch and dogged it behind me. To no one's surprise the hose burst. It flopped around like a snake throwing up the last 400 meals.

Shit went....


Everywhere.

We got the topside of our submarine. We got the topside of the next submarine over. We got most of the decks on the tender vessel. We got the wharf. We got the tug boat. If there had been low flying birds, we'd have gotten them, too. The commanding officer of the Tender, who gets a special parking space down on the wharf so he doesn't have to walk all the way down like the rest of us peons do? We got his car, just a tiny bit.

My quick thinking kept us from having to clean shit inside the submarine, but that was the only bright spot in a shitty week of cleaning...

To this day, I open valves as if it's possible that there's 700 pounds of shit waiting to rush out of it, and only as far as I need to get what I need. Water, air, hydraulics...

I hope Mr 700 pounds was tasked with cleaning 24/7 until the job was done.
 
I hope Mr 700 pounds was tasked with cleaning 24/7 until the job was done.
There was too much shit to leave to one person, but yes, he was cleaning longer than anyone else.
And he was the clean-up bitch for the entire patrol. Anyone wanted some help on Field Day, his LPO would rewrite the watchbill in order to loan him out...
 
You've got the greatest stories. Any chance of these getting written down and published?
 
And you can get a colorful dispenser to spread these cheery confections in the office.
drool.jpg
So, like, someone puts this dispenser on the secretary's desk JUST before the Boss arrives. The secretary says he can have some M&M's, despite his diet. He grabs a serving and snarfs them down.

Doesn't bother to read them.

So that means he accepts the message, right? That was our theory.

He read the candies remaining in the dispenser... Even checking to make sure that all four towers have the same messages...

Then kept asking us where we found them. Where would you even GO to find this sort of message on M&Ms?

"Dude, it's common knowledge."
"Yeah, all the cool kids know Subs Rule..."

Finally, when we wouldn't tell him where we shop for such things, he slowly and clearly enunciated "Fuck. You." and walked off.

Made my entire month...
 
And you can get a colorful dispenser to spread these cheery confections in the office.
View attachment 7740
So, like, someone puts this dispenser on the secretary's desk JUST before the Boss arrives. The secretary says he can have some M&M's, despite his diet. He grabs a serving and snarfs them down.

Doesn't bother to read them.

So that means he accepts the message, right? That was our theory.

He read the candies remaining in the dispenser... Even checking to make sure that all four towers have the same messages...

Then kept asking us where we found them. Where would you even GO to find this sort of message on M&Ms?

"Dude, it's common knowledge."
"Yeah, all the cool kids know Subs Rule..."

Finally, when we wouldn't tell him where we shop for such things, he slowly and clearly enunciated "Fuck. You." and walked off.

Made my entire month...

What's the picture on the other side?
 
View attachment 7740
So, like, someone puts this dispenser on the secretary's desk JUST before the Boss arrives. The secretary says he can have some M&M's, despite his diet. He grabs a serving and snarfs them down.

Doesn't bother to read them.

So that means he accepts the message, right? That was our theory.

He read the candies remaining in the dispenser... Even checking to make sure that all four towers have the same messages...

Then kept asking us where we found them. Where would you even GO to find this sort of message on M&Ms?

"Dude, it's common knowledge."
"Yeah, all the cool kids know Subs Rule..."

Finally, when we wouldn't tell him where we shop for such things, he slowly and clearly enunciated "Fuck. You." and walked off.

Made my entire month...

What's the picture on the other side?

Probably a "W". :)
 
What's the picture on the other side?
From the MY M&Ms site for personalized M&Ms. For when I refill the dispenser, I've uploaded a graphic of submarine uniform insignia, with the captions SUBS RULE and SKIMMERS DROOL. They give a preview of the candy on the site.
 
You know, I'm the sort of person to eat an M&M even if it had an insulting message on it. Who wouldn't?
 
I told the rather conservative people in my office that i read the bumperstickers on their cars, and i'm quite willing to take someone's guns, and I do own a pretty decent prybar, but i cannot understand why i am supposed to wait for them to get cold and stiff?
Wouldn't it make more sense to take the gun while they're still warm and pliable?

They do not find the humor in the question.
 
I told the rather conservative people in my office that i read the bumperstickers on their cars, and i'm quite willing to take someone's guns, and I do own a pretty decent prybar, but i cannot understand why i am supposed to wait for them to get cold and stiff?
Wouldn't it make more sense to take the gun while they're still warm and pliable?

They do not find the humor in the question.

Neither do I. It's just good old fashioned common sense!
 
You know, I'm the sort of person to eat an M&M even if it had an insulting message on it. Who wouldn't?
Yeah, I'm on a 'clear liquids only' diet today and at this point I'd eat M&Ms that said 'Dog Spooge' on them.

The message isn't the point. It's teasing the boss that's the pointedness. And he is SOOOOOOOOOO easy.

- - - Updated - - -

That would be too much like work.

Just cut and paste from here. If James Herriott can make a fortune, so can you!
But Herriott's initial effort was a failure. It's not enough to say 'You have a lot of stories,' and make abook. He needed a lot of help from an editor to tie it up into an interesting book.

My hands are full publishing my porn on Kindle, right now, anyway.
 
So you can drink all the vodka you like?
Yeah, but I am NOT the person to show up drunk for a colonoscopy. My sense of humor gets me in enough trouble without offending the guy who's already going to shove something up my ass...
 
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