Hmmmm. This sounds like the onset of the advanced stages of S.P.H.D.
(Sick Puppy Homebuilder Disorder.) Reffering to your inanimate pile
of fiberglass as "my baby", and then playing the radio for "her." If
I am correct in this diagnosis, then, by now your neighbors have
already been exposed and are at this very minute sitting in their
garages with the doors shut, making primative airplane engine
noises.... hoping to get beamed up by the RAH aliens...

Tsk Tsk Tsk.

This is much more serious than I at first thought. I'm going to have
to start an on-line clinic for guys like you and Steve who are, I'm
afraid to say, terminally afflicted with this most cruel of aviation
disorders.

You have my sympathies,

Dr pac M.D.

(but first the paperwork... gotta print up an impressive medical
school diploma... Who was that guy who knows how to do this....?)


Hey Doc!

Love it! love it!

When you find this guy let me know. I could use a few diploma's too!
My asian friends are obsessed with degrees. I'll show them, I'll
plater my walls with all kinds of sh*t; PHDs, MBAs...etc.

What do you think?

Bryan "the monk" Chaisone

I think you need to watch the movie "Catch me if you Can" starring Tom
Hanks on HBO. An aspiring Airline-pilot/Doctor like yourself can zoom
in on a lot of good techniques by watching a pro like that in action.
I learned for example: never call the FBI to just chat on Christmas
night, no matter how lonely you get in your penthouse suite...

Please see the nurse for some meds and a bill,

Next Case!

Doctor/Captain pac, M.D. (Mad Dog)