Ned-Air2Air
4th Jul 2008, 04:19
Got sent this humourous email and got a laugh from it.
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Dear Wing Commander,
YOU will be pleased to know that I have what it takes to be both a pilot and a navigator.
By getting two for the price of one, the air force will be able to hire a personal assistant for me. A young lady from Southeast Asia would do fine.
I have wanted to fly ever since I went to a party and someone accidentally dropped LSD into the orange juice.
I remember being at the controls of some sort of winged submarine which I piloted with the greatest of ease through far-off galaxies made up of planets shaped like dogs and cats.
At least, I think they were planets. They may well have been giant celestial pets owned by Xenu, ruler of the Galactic Confederacy.
The opportunity to receive formal training is one that I would like to grasp with both hands.
Well, I would if I could get my hands to co-operate with one another. Sometimes I think my brain is split in two because quite often I find that my left hand doesn’t know what my right hand is thinking! But it’s not serious because if one of my hands starts misbehaving, all I do is put it in my pocket and it calms down like a mad horse does when you superglue blinkers to the side of its head.
When it comes to navigational skills, I should point out that I frequently get lost in shopping malls, airports and sometimes even in my own home. This obviously won’t be a problem since I will be 50000 feet up in the air and it is very hard to get lost with all those landmarks down below. For example, if I am flying from Cape Town to Johannesburg and find myself over the Fish River Canyon, I will immediately know that I am going in the wrong direction and will order the pilot (myself) to take corrective action. It is probably best that I do not fly at night.
My dream of becoming a fighter pilot goes back to May 4 1978, when I got my signals mixed up on the outskirts of Cassinga and the Buccaneers bombed our guys by mistake, thereby costing us the war in Namibia and ruining my last chance of promotion to lance-corporal.
I would like to learn how to fly one of our new Gripen jets. I imagine that it would be much like driving a very fast Volvo fitted with machine guns and an ejection seat.
The Swedes pretend to be a peace-loving nation but luckily for us they are right up there with Iran and North Korea when it comes to manufacturing weapons of mass destruction. Without them, our flanks would be exposed to attack by Swaziland’s formidable air force.
If you are not accepting white applicants, I can do a very good impression of being Chinese.
Yours sincerely,
‘Bombadier’ Ben Trovato
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Dear Wing Commander,
YOU will be pleased to know that I have what it takes to be both a pilot and a navigator.
By getting two for the price of one, the air force will be able to hire a personal assistant for me. A young lady from Southeast Asia would do fine.
I have wanted to fly ever since I went to a party and someone accidentally dropped LSD into the orange juice.
I remember being at the controls of some sort of winged submarine which I piloted with the greatest of ease through far-off galaxies made up of planets shaped like dogs and cats.
At least, I think they were planets. They may well have been giant celestial pets owned by Xenu, ruler of the Galactic Confederacy.
The opportunity to receive formal training is one that I would like to grasp with both hands.
Well, I would if I could get my hands to co-operate with one another. Sometimes I think my brain is split in two because quite often I find that my left hand doesn’t know what my right hand is thinking! But it’s not serious because if one of my hands starts misbehaving, all I do is put it in my pocket and it calms down like a mad horse does when you superglue blinkers to the side of its head.
When it comes to navigational skills, I should point out that I frequently get lost in shopping malls, airports and sometimes even in my own home. This obviously won’t be a problem since I will be 50000 feet up in the air and it is very hard to get lost with all those landmarks down below. For example, if I am flying from Cape Town to Johannesburg and find myself over the Fish River Canyon, I will immediately know that I am going in the wrong direction and will order the pilot (myself) to take corrective action. It is probably best that I do not fly at night.
My dream of becoming a fighter pilot goes back to May 4 1978, when I got my signals mixed up on the outskirts of Cassinga and the Buccaneers bombed our guys by mistake, thereby costing us the war in Namibia and ruining my last chance of promotion to lance-corporal.
I would like to learn how to fly one of our new Gripen jets. I imagine that it would be much like driving a very fast Volvo fitted with machine guns and an ejection seat.
The Swedes pretend to be a peace-loving nation but luckily for us they are right up there with Iran and North Korea when it comes to manufacturing weapons of mass destruction. Without them, our flanks would be exposed to attack by Swaziland’s formidable air force.
If you are not accepting white applicants, I can do a very good impression of being Chinese.
Yours sincerely,
‘Bombadier’ Ben Trovato