POLL: Would you participate in a rec.aviation.piloting.moderated newsgroup?

On Mon, 27 Sep 2010 22:35:30 -0500, Jim Logajan wrote:

Because a large number of former r.a.p users had migrated to POA
(http://www.pilotsofamerica.com) I also posted the poll there too.

By my count, there were 11 people (including myself) who explicitly stated
here, on POA, or via private e-mail that they would be willing to give such
a group a try. Posters that weren't explicit or clear in their intent, or
merely provided commentary, weren't counted.

The count is under my own set goal of 12. And I would have preferred more
than 20.

So I will not be initiating any efforts to create a r.a.p.m. If anyone else
wishes to try, I would be willing to provide support but I will not lead
such an effort.

Thanks to everyone who supported the idea.

Yeah, what a memory. There we were, shoulder to shoulder my hands in
my pants, on the football field, even though it was before a baseball
game, packed in like sardines. Me, my teddy bear and soon-to-be-dead
Tiger Boy, my pussycat.

The smell of cannabis filled the air. I don't smoke, it draws out my
manic depression.

This special night was different from the Grand Funk Railroad or the
Three Dog Night or Liberace concerts I never attended there. In my
mind, I was. On the football field, where they were awaiting to play
a Braves game. In May when NFL football didn't play.

1973 National Football League season
Regular season
Duration *September 16, 1973 - December 16, 1973*

https://secure.wikimedia.org/wikiped...973_NFL_season

At one point the lights went total black-out, then suddenly the entire
room and immediate area (closet) were drenched in blue light. I began
to sing "My Room" by the Beach Boys because I sure as **** wasn't at
Fulton County Stadium on May 4th, 1973.

Nothing but blue. Next came the "smoke" of dry ice. It was like London
fog in blue. I guess, never been out of South Carolina, The
Mississippi of the East.

Yes it was "Stairway to Heaven" time. Boy was I suprised
at what came next. Tiger Boy jumped on my Philco and killed the
turntable. this was the day I decided to kill him.

Suddenly I released hundreds and hundreds of white fleas! It didn't
quite work out as planned. Except for the few that momentarilly
circled, they basically just flew away. **** me again.

But there was no disappointment. Those first few notes of
"Stairway" took us where I needed to be. Up the stairs to the cool
breasts of my Mommy.

There, in the moment listening to the most famous song in the world. I
turned and looked at my Mommy, Judy ( "Judy blue eyes"), and she
said...

"Mark, get your goddamned hands off my tits and go to sleep. You have
school in the morning".

my son is a freak

---
Mark