“About a Very Large Airplane.”
It was about the same time.
About the time I stopped flying large airplanes by holding the transmitter in a deathgrip;
I got the coolest form of sponsorship.
Though the labels were faded, and it was a bit dusty, it was nontheless:
An Extra, 330.
97 inches of pure IMAC Plane.
Unlimited class airplane, capable of anything.
Tumbles, rolls, circles, hovers, and flying on the proverbial edge of the knife.
“Fuck” I thought. “I can’t build to save my life.”
With goals of national championships, I set off to build it nothing less than perfect.
Easily distracted, and damn near incompetent with tools, It took a little longer than planned.
It was a huge project. And with me leading the charge, it was most seriously undermanned.
After many nights of something resembling chimpanzees and sporting equipment,
I can finally say I’m on the last 5 percent.
Now, the small task of finishing it.
Damnit.
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And yes, Those jeans are photo shopped on.
Josh