A dingo ate my dingle.
8.4.2k7

I was on a rocket-sled to Hell, as usual, and I figured enough was enough. I switched off the fuel pump, waited for the motor to conk out, deployed all four 'chutes and when the speed dipped just below mach 1 I hopped out, hit the ground running and almost stuck the landing. Alas, a skinned knee is better than the usual ass-over-tits roll through the gravel I usually manage.

I collected myself, straightened up, and started walking. In moments I met my pal. "Where you been," I asked. "I hopped out the 'sled just after you. Thanks for the heads-up, asshole," she said. I had forgotten that she was in the same boat I was and apologized profusely. She said, "anyways ... "


Tonight - Mission Bar.




Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!


bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!