And do what exactly? It doesn't carry weapons. It doesn't carry paratroopers. It can't even defend itself in hostile airspace.
Airborne divisions aren't exactly on call 24/7 like Ambulances or Fire & Rescue teams. You watched too many G.I.Joe cartoons as a boy.
Stephen R. Bierce
stephenr-bierce
Captain Jack, your car is here.
The Blue Angels DID have A-4s in the Seventies. Just not these particular A-4s.
It's like when Meat Loaf fought a Camaro to the death in AMERICATHON.
BUBBA: Haven't you heard of Missiles Я Us?
Looks naked without the cattle horns.
Peculiar that no driver has attempted the Triple of all three races in one year. ;)
It's a shame you can't go to an airport just to hang out and watch the planes like you could in past decades. Last time I tried, an Airport Authority cop pulled his revolver on me and frisked me in the parking lot.
Ahti Lahti. I'm a menu item at a chintzi hipster coffeehouse.
New School Bus for the Special Ed kids!
I was quoting an old Ram TV ad campaign, from when they were still considered part of Dodge.
Of course, Jeremy Clarkson gave us three object lessons in Italization of non-Italian motor vehicles:
Y'all got a Hemi in THAT? Schweet.
Think Zig?
She segg he segg a we segg/I segg you segg a lay segg/Be segg be segg a loo segg
I HAD one of those Tercels...a four-door version that I retroactively call the "Anton Martin" because its previous owner was a classmate of mine named Anton. It replaced my first car (an AMC Concord) and it kept me running through most of college. Took it on a couple typical Florida adventures too.
When the Concord…
My family's rides as of my start of college in 1986. The red AMC Concord station wagon is mine; the MG Midget was my father's weekend car and in the throes of decadence. The Oldsmobile Royale sedan was Mom's. Not shown, my father's pickup of the moment...he was a foreman at a lumber yard and wore them out pretty…
I recall a beer ad on TV circa 1979 about somebody who had a broken sofa he tried to get rid of. So he took out a classy ad in the paper with all sorts of sophisticated language to describe it—and somebody stole the sofa.
Just a few minutes ago I saw the Chevy Van that the fellow sang about making love in...getting taken on a flatbed truck to the recyclers.