![]() |
| U.S. Air Force photo by Senior Airman Sam Goodman |
Monday, March 19, 2012
New Contact Lenses? Nope; Just Some Emerald Warriors
Literally. That's the name of the exercise. This is the part that utilizes a night vision device. Well... it's sort of like a contact lens...
Labels:
The Army
| Reactions: |
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)



15 comments:
You have green eyes?
Six days into a heavy duty assignment, it's more like, bloodshot eyes. And the J.D. supply remains untouched!
I got a black eye once.
I gave a black eye once.
Susan sounds like somebody tried to tap her supply of J.D., without consent.
Grumpy! You were watching through night vision goggles, weren't you!
Susan, I could give you some real nightmares about your precious supply of J.D.. There is a way to drain the complete contents of the bottle, without breaking the seal on the cap. People don't know it, but if you know something about glass, it can be drilled from the bottom and not break the bottle. Here's how you do it, [REDACTED].
You would be surprised to know many things I have seen. Let's just leave it at that. Let's just call it a benefit of old age.
Wait. You're just going to leave it at that? No tutorial?
Oh wait. I forgot to check the REDACTED file. Do you need a pass to read it, or can I just drill into the file from the bottom?
Why do we have to wait for the comments to get moderated now! This sucks, SKK!
Sorry about that, CG! I have had a rash of comments from my former husband, who has been trying to post his complaints about various matters, including a long resolved property settlement. So I had to block him.
Dude! It's over! Move on!
He complains about the property settlement on your blog? Right there that tells me almost everything I need to know.
Did you just get divorced?
Nope.
SKK,
"[REDACTED]", why of course, we don't want anyone to raid your cache of J.D. BTW, I'm the one, who [REDACTED] the comment, not SKK.
About the tutorial, Lady, that is something my father taught me when I was 8 or 9 years old. If you just drill from the bottom, you'll break the bottle and ruin the booze. We can't have that. My dad would flame treat the glass from some soda bottles, while I was out on an errand. When I got home, my mom, dad and I would go to a gravel pit, about a quarter mile away. This pit had a shooting table and a target table about the same length as a football field, the table was about 20 feet from the surface, certain were always shooting into an infinite ground. My dad put his treated soda bottles up on the table and he asked me to shoot them with a 22 rifle. I loaded up and was ready to shoot. I aimed, I shot and nothing happened. I would have sworn, that I hit that bottle. I pulled the bolt back and another round went into the chamber. Again, I aimed, shot and nothing happened. I'm sure I hit the bottle. I repeated the whole procedure, with the same result. I turn I look at my father I said I will see how much I missed them by. On the first bottle, I found 3 holes in the bottle and yet the bottle was still standing and on the fourth shot, it shattered. On the 2nd bottle, I aimed for a known weak spot and it shattered on the 1st shot. Please understand this was the mid–1950s and my mother was the one who actually taught me how to shoot. My father would often tease me and say, “I notice you don't argue with your mother very much.” I would reply, “You don't argue with a woman who can shoot like her. She would hit a penny on a white background, many times over.
Post a Comment