Discussion in 'Aviation' started by quickstop, Jul 9, 2005.
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Ahh, but the band were good..well...sounded good from my office.
Aaaaaah, parades! Don't you just love em?!?! I've done the closure of Oakington Barracks parade (attended by, er, some senior officers, fcuk knows who), the Freedom of Boroubridge (and abused by some locals outside one of the pubs when we marched past) and the 'official' opening of Dishcloth (again attended by a few civvies, who seemed to spend more time laughing at us!). Lots of practice parades, drill and best boots inspections. My boots were painted with some special paint purchased from the US, and I had the honour (in fact, sheer terror) as a certain WO2 went along HQ Sqn lines inspecting and jailing those whoâs boots he deemed unworthy of a parade. When my turn came I just waited for the immortal line 'GET AWAY'!! But it never came! Thank fcuk for that paint!! Parades, I love em!
I get a swelling in my speedo's at the thought
Think I'll go and give the Doris a swift about turn on the march before lunch, then straigh back on the square for some forming and advancing in review order.
Think I'll also demand a nosh.......... of course obeying the regulation pauses
The thought of you drilling me around your street Mighty is giving me a boner. I'm on me way up the M6 now! Best boots and all!
The thought of drill arouses me so much I'd probably end up slipping you a length anyway mate.
Little one just brought me a screwed up toastie so am about to jail her....... just going in the garden to paractise my 'GEEEEEEEEEEEEEETTTTT AAAAAAAAWWWWWWWAAAAAAY You shaggin idle horror!'
If there is one thing that is gauranteed to bring out the walters, its got to be going into Ipswich in service dress on a saturday night.
Civvies....(shudders)......well the scrote walters anyway..
"I've been pot smoking for the last three years every day but reckon I could quit if they let me be a pilot"
"My cousin is a Captain and my mate here is a Roya Marine. (No ID card and scrawny little runt. Nil chance of him being Royal). You know nothing about the Army...NOTHING! (he says to me as I am stood in full Service Dress with a MOD 90 in my pocket and half the squadron at the bar) You're faking it."
And to top it off, some gay bloke who clearly fancied himself felt me up as he walked past the kebab van.... A complete tosser.
All the clubs refused entry to anyone in uniform. Really made us feel welcome I have to say....
A drunken disappointing evening in all after we left the bars...
aaaah well, at least he finished you off from the sound of it...
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