Language Barrier

By lex, on December 19th, 2009

So, ’twas down to the aerodrome early-aye-o for to sign up with yet another flying club, one such as has a broader stable of unobtanium than does t’other. An hour’s worth of having to listen to one pilot intersperse flying stories with club by-laws followed by another pilot – the safety officer, as it turns out – telling tales over the course of the second hour of those who’ve balled up otherwise airworthy craft through one means or another. None of which were particularly edifying, your host being familiar with the requirement to maintain an adequate supply of go-juice in the machine and keep her more or less tracking down the prepared surface. The cruel hardship of which was, ourselves being aspirants, like, manners prevented us from one-upping.

Bitter beer indeed.

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