Just For Laughs...Pilot Humor

ATLANTA AIRPORT -

Atlanta ATC: "Tower to Syrian Air 511 – You are cleared to land on runway 9R
Syrian Air: “Thank you Atlanta ATC. Acknowledge cleared to land on infidel’s runway 9R - Allah be Praised.”

Atlanta ATC: “Tower to Iran Air 711 --You are cleared to land on runway 27L .”
Iran Air: “Thank you Atlanta ATC. We are cleared to land on infidel’s runway 27L . - Allah is Great.”

Pause…

Syrian Air: " ATLANTA ATC - ATLANTA ATC"
Atlanta ATC: “Go ahead Syrian Air 511.”
Syrian Air: “YOU HAVE CLEARED BOTH OUR AIRCRAFTS FOR THE SAME RUNWAY GOING IN OPPOSITE DIRECTIONS. WE ARE ON A COLLISION COURSE. INSTRUCTIONS, PLEASE.”
Atlanta ATC: "Well bless your hearts. And praise Jesus. Y’all be careful now and tell Allah “hey” for us – "

Friend of mine passed me this one about 4 - 5 years ago. Same word of advice as he told me: if you’re not laughing by the time you get to “Milk Duds”, your sense of humor is b0rked.

Now this message is for America’s most famous athletes:

Someday you may be invited to fly in the backseat of one of your country’s most powerful fighter jets. Many of you already have… John Elway, John Stockton, Tiger Woods to name a few. If you get this opportunity, let me urge you, with the greatest sincerity…

Move to Guam.
Change your name.
Fake your own death!
Whatever you do…
Do Not Go!!!

I know. The U.S. Navy invited me to try it. I was thrilled. I was pumped. I was toast! I should’ve known when they told me my pilot would be Chip (Biff) King of Fighter Squadron 213 at Naval Air Station Oceana in
Virginia Beach. Whatever you’re thinking a Top Gun named Chip (Biff) King looks like, triple it. He’s about six-feet, tan, ice-blue eyes, wavy surfer hair, finger-crippling handshake – the kind of man who wrestles dyspeptic alligators in his leisure time. If you see this man, run the other way.

Fast.

Biff King was born to fly. His father, Jack King, was for years the voice
of NASA missions. (“T-minus 15 seconds and counting…” Remember?) Chip would charge neighborhood kids a quarter each to hear his dad. Jack would wake up from naps surrounded by nine year-olds waiting for
him to say, “We have a liftoff.”

Biff was to fly me in an F-14D Tomcat, a ridiculously powerful $60 million
weapon with nearly as much thrust as weight, not unlike Colin Montgomerie. I was worried about getting airsick, so the night before the flight I asked Biff if there was something I should eat the next morning.

“Bananas,” he said.
“For the potassium?” I asked.
“No,” Biff said, “because they taste about the same coming up as they do
going down.”

The next morning, out on the tarmac, I had on my flight suit with my name sewn over the left breast. (No call sign – like Crash or Sticky or
Leadfoot. but, still, very cool.) I carried my helmet in the crook of my
arm, as Biff had instructed. If ever in my life I had a chance to nail
Nicole Kidman, this was it.

A fighter pilot named Psycho gave me a safety briefing and then fastened me into my ejection seat, which, when employed, would “egress” me out of the plane at such a velocity that I would be immediately knocked unconscious.

Just as I was thinking about aborting the flight, the canopy closed over me, and Biff gave the ground crew a thumbs-up. In minutes we were firing nose up at 600 mph. We leveled out and then canopy-rolled over another F-14.

Those 20 minutes were the rush of my life. Unfortunately, the ride lasted
80. It was like being on the roller coaster at Six Flags Over Hell. Only
without rails. We did barrel rolls, sap rolls, loops, yanks and banks. We
dived, rose and dived again, sometimes with a vertical velocity of 10,000
feet per minute. We chased another F-14, and it chased us.

We broke the speed of sound. Sea was sky and sky was sea. Flying at
200 feet we did 90-degree turns at 550 mph, creating a G force of 6.5, which is to say I felt as if 6.5 times my body weight was smashing against me, thereby approximating life as Mrs. Colin Montgomerie.

And I egressed the bananas. I egressed the pizza from the night before.
And the lunch before that. I egressed a box of Milk Duds from the sixth
grade. I made Linda Blair look polite. Because of the G’s, I was egressing
stuff that did not even want to be egressed. I went through not one airsick
bag, but two.

Biff said I passed out. Twice. I was coated in sweat. At one point, as we
were coming in upside down in a banked curve on a mock bombing target and the G’s were flattening me like a tortilla and I was in and out of
consciousness, I realized I was the first person in history to throw down.

I used to know cool. Cool was Elway throwing a touchdown pass, or Norman making a five-iron bite. But now I really know cool. Cool is guys like Biff, men with cast-iron stomachs and freon nerves. I wouldn’t go up there again for Derek Jeter’s black book, but I’m glad Biff does every day, and for less a year than a rookie reliever makes in a home stand.

A week later, when the spins finally stopped, Biff called. He said he and
the fighters had the perfect call sign for me. Said he’d send it on a patch
for my flight suit.

What is it? I asked.
“Two Bags.”

BL.

That’s great! :laughing:

That tale was written by Rick Reilly of Sports Illustrated, a very funny man.

sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/ … /index.htm

An email from a friend sent me these…thought Id share…

This and lots of other great stories related to the Mighty Tomcat are at this site:

f-14association.com/stories.htm

Great website with lots of info and wonderful memories for Tomcat pilots, NFOs, and admirers alike.

I think we have a mutual friend I just got that email this week

Mooning the camera in an AB-26… :laughing:

While I was working at KHND I heard this from the tower and aircraft:
Tower: Piper 12345, clear takeoff 17R; say direction of flight.

After a momentary pause

Piper: Clear for takeoff 17R…uh…direction??? Forward.

And another while listening at work.

Tower: Cessna 123AB turn left there and hold. Say intentions?

Cessna:(without missing a beat) Always honorable, sir.

:laughing: :laughing: :laughing: :laughing: Love the first one!

What a Landing

An airplane is coming to land at an airport obscured by fog. Visibility is practically nil, the radar system is on the blink, so the pilot has to land on wits alone.

“Flaps, check,” he says to the co-pilot, “Landing Gear, check. Altitude, check. Right, we’re going in. Hold on.”

The plane lands and comes to a screeching, grinding halt; just short of the edge of the runway.

“Holy Cow!” exclaims the pilot, “This must be the shortest runway I’ve ever landed on!” The co-pilot looks left and right and says "Yeah, and about the widest, too…

Two archeologists are working in a forgotten pyramid in Egypt that contains the sarcophagus of a former court official of the Pharaoh Tutankhamun.

One archeologist turns to the other and says “I think I can identify this guy. He was the court jester.”

“How can you tell?” asks the other archeologist.

“Because if I’ve translated this inscription on the sarcophagus correctly, it’s the oldest joke in the world!” says the first archeologist.

“Oh yeah! What does it say?” asks his co-worker.

“An airplane is coming to land at an airport obscured by fog. Visibility is practically nil, the radar system is on the blink, so the pilot has to land on wits alone.”

I was listening to LiveATC:

[Houston App] JetLink _ _ _ _, get ready to get down!
[JetLink _ _ _ _] It’s the weekend already?

Thought it was kinda funny. . . :unamused: :unamused:

Between ATC and planes on approach:

STL approach: “United XXX best forward speed to the marker, you’re number one.”
United XXX (male): “Roger, balls to the wall.”
STL approach: “American XXXX, you’re number two behind a 737, follow him, cleared visual, best forward speed.”
American XXXX (female): “Well I can’t do ‘balls to the wall’ but I can go ‘wide open’.”
-Radio silence-
Unknown Pilot (male): “Is American hiring?”

El Paso has a ‘high approach’ (known as penetration approaches)for the military and the initial approach fix is “fanny” 20 miles se of ELP. A lady controller was busy and clipped her phraseology “Talon one cleared for penetration at fanny” and then in the ensuing silence an anonomous pilot keyed the mike and said “Ah, center, we’d like one of those too.”

SR-71 Blackbird pilot Brian Shul writes: “I’ll always remember a certain radio exchange that occurred one day as Walt (my backseater) and I were screaming across Southern California, 13 miles high. We were monitoring various radio transmissions from other aircraft as we entered Los Angeles airspace. Though they didn’t really control us, they did monitor our movement across their scope. I heard a Cessna ask for a readout of its groundspeed.”
“90 knots” Center replied.
“Moments later, a Twin Beech required the same.”
“120 knots,” Center answered.
"We weren’t the only ones proud of our groundspeed that day as almost instantly an F-18 smugly transmitted, ‘Ah, Center, Dusty 52 requests groundspeed readout.’
“There was a slight pause, then the response, 525 knots on the ground, Dusty”.
“Another silent pause. As I was thinking to myself how ripe a situation this was, I heard a familiar click of a radio transmission coming from my backseater. It was at that precise moment I realized Walt and I had become a real crew, for we were both thinking in unison.” “Center, Aspen 20, you got a groundspeed readout for us?”
There was a longer than normal pause… “Aspen, I show 1,742 knots”
“No further inquiries were heard on that frequency”

Taxiing down the tarmac, the DC10 abruptly stopped, turned around and returned to the gate. After an hour-long wait, it finally took off. A concerned passenger asked the flight attendant, “What, exactly, was the problem?”
“The pilot was bothered by a noise he heard in the engine,” explained the flight attendant. “It took us a while to find a new pilot.”

At the airport for a business trip, Maureen settled down to wait for the boarding announcement at Gate 35. Then she heard the voice on the public address system saying, ‘We apologise for the inconvenience, but BOAC Flight 937 will board from Gate 41.’
Maureen picked up her luggage and carried it over to Gate 41. Not ten minutes later the public address voice told her that Flight 937 would in fact be boarding from Gate 35.
So, again, Maureen gathered her carry-on luggage and returned to the original gate. Just as she was settling down, the public address voice spoke again, ‘We would like to thank all passengers for participating in BOAC’s physical fitness programme.’

here it goes: My friend says he was training an ATC rookie - I think he said it was out at Nellis AFB. Anyway, one day this kid takes a call from an aircraft requesting clearance to FL 800 (80,000 feet)…
Rookie (dripping with sarcasm): “Okay, hotshot – if you think you can take her that high, GO FOR IT!!”
Pilot of the SR-71 on the other end of the radio: “Roger Control; now DESCENDING from 100,000 feet to FL 800…”

Novice female military controller to US bomber leaving radar coverage, forgetting the correct terminology… “You are entering my dark area”
USB: “WHOOPEE!”

One of the controllers came on and reported something happened to cause a further delay and that those planes in a holding pattern would need to stay there. Almost immediately, one of the pilots responded with, “Bullshit!” The controller then said something to the effect of, “Sir, the use of profane language is prohibited on this channel by FAA and FCC regulations. Please identify yourself.” After a moment, one of the pilots reported, “This is flight 123 and we are negative on the bullshit.” A moment after that, another flight reported in, “This is flight 456 and we are also negative on the bullshit.” One by one, each and every one of the flights reported in as being “negative on the bullshit.”

A huge C-5 cargo plane was sitting near where a small plane was waiting to take off. The private pilot got a little nervous because the military plane was closer than normal, and asked the tower to find out the intentions of the C-5. Before the tower could reply, a voice came over the radio as the C-5’s nose cargo doors opened, saying, “I’m going to eat you.”

United cargo jet (with female pilot): "This is my secondary radio. Is my transmission still fuzzy?
Oakland ARTCC controller: “I don’t know. I’ve never seen it.” (Earned him two weeks on the beach) (Ack ‘a former ATC’)

Technical problem or defect reported by pilot or crew.

Something loose in cockpit.->
Something tightened in cockpit.

Left-inside main tyre (tire) almost needs replacing.->
Almost replaced left-inside main tyre.

Autopilot tends to drop a wing when fuel imbalance reaches 500lbs.->
Flight manual limits maximum fuel imbalance to 300lbs.

Unfamiliar noise coming from No2 engine.->
Engine run for three hours. Noise now familiar.

Mouse in cockpit.->
Cat installed.

Target radar hums.->
Reprogrammed target radar with lyrics.

Number three engine missing. [not firing properly presumably]->
Engine found on starboard [right] wing after brief search.

Pilot’s clock inoperative.->
Wound clock.

Aircraft handles funny.->
Aircraft told to straighten up, fly right and be serious.

Whining sound heard on engine shutdown.->
Pilot removed from aircraft.

Noise coming from under instrument panel - sounds like a midget pounding on something with a hammer.->
Took hammer away from midget.

Suspected crack in windshield.->
Suspect you are right.

IFF inoperative. [IFF = Identification, Friend or Foe.]->
IFF always inoperative in ‘off’ mode.

Test flight okay except Auto-Land very rough.->
Auto-Land is not installed on this aircraft.

No2 ADF needle runs wild. [ADF = Automatic Direction Finder/Finding?]->
Caught and tamed No2 ADF needle.

Turn and slip indicator ball stuck in center during turns.->
Congratulations. You just made your first coordinated turn!

Dead bugs on windshield.->
Live bugs on back order.

Autopilot in altitude-hold mode produces 200 feet per minute descent.->
Cannot reproduce problem on ground.

Evidence of leak on right main landing gear.->
Evidence removed.

Three roaches in cabin.->
One roach killed, one wounded, one got away.

DME volume set unbelievably loud. [DME = Distance Measuring Equipment?]->
DME volume set to more believable level.

No2 propeller seeping prop fluid.->
No2 propeller seepage normal. Nos 1, 3 and 4 propellers lack normal seepage.

Friction locks cause throttle levers to stick.->
That’s what they are for.

Two stories from german ATC:

Lufthansa 123: [requests departure clearance in German]
ATC: Lufthansa 123, say again in English.
Lufthansa 123: I’m a German pilot, flying a German plane, for a German airline, in Germany. Why do I have to speak English?
British Airlines 412 [in a beautiful British accent]: Because you lost the bloody war.

Allegedly the German air controllers at Frankfurt Airport are renowned as a short-tempered lot. They, it is alleged, not only expect one to know one’s gate parking location, but how to get there without any assistance from them. So it was with some amusement that we (a Pan Am 747) listened to the following exchange between Frankfurt ground control and a British Airways 747, call sign Speedbird 206.

Speedbird 206: “Frankfurt, Speedbird 206 clear of active runway.”
Ground: “Speedbird 206. Taxi to gate Alpha One-Seven.”
The BA 747 pulled onto the main taxiway and slowed to a stop.
Ground: “Speedbird, do you not know where you are going?”
Speedbird 206: “Stand by, Ground, I’m looking up our gate location now.”
Ground (with quite arrogant impatience): “Speedbird 206, have you not been to Frankfurt before?”
Speedbird 206 (coolly): “Yes, twice in 1944, but it was dark,… and I didn’t land.”

:laughing: :laughing:

I’m soo Glad its Friday!! And with that being said a barrage of jokes to come: some not so good, and some for food for thought. First off,
To the guys that are married, going to be married and were married…We should really pay attention!
King Arthur and the Witch:

"Young King Arthur was ambushed and imprisoned by the monarch of a neighboring kingdom. The monarch could have killed him but was moved by Arthur’s youth and ideals. So, the monarch offered him his freedom, as long as he could answer a very difficult question. Arthur would have a year to figure out the answer and, if after a year, he still had no answer, he would be put to death.
The question?..What do women really want? Such a question would perplex even the most knowledgeable man, and to young Arthur, it seemed an impossible query. But, since it was better than death, he accepted the monarch’s proposition to have an answer by year’s end.
He returned to his kingdom and began to poll everyone: the princess, the priests, the wise men and even the court jester. He spoke with everyone, but no one could give him a satisfactory answer.
Many people advised him to consult the old witch, for only she would have the answer.
But the price would be high; as the witch was famous throughout the kingdom for the exorbitant prices she charged.
The last day of the year arrived and Arthur had no choice but to talk to the witch. She agreed to answer the question, but he would have to agree to her price first.
The old witch wanted to marry Sir Lancelot, the most noble of the Knights of the Round Table and Arthur’s closest friend!
Young Arthur was horrified. She was hunchbacked and hideous, had only one tooth, smelled like sewage, made obscene noises, etc. He had never encountered such a repugnant creature in all his life.
He refused to force his friend to marry her and endure such a terrible burden; but Lancelot, learning of the proposal, spoke with Arthur
He said nothing was too big of a sacrifice compared to Arthur’s life and the preservation of the Round Table.
Hence, a wedding was proclaimed and the witch answered Arthur’s question thus:

What a woman really wants, she answered…is to be in charge of her own life.

Everyone in the kingdom instantly knew that the witch had uttered a great truth and that Arthur’s life would be spared.
And so it was, the neighboring monarch granted Arthur his freedom and Lancelot and the witch had a wonderful wedding.
The honeymoon hour approached and Lancelot, steeling himself for a horrific experience, entered the bedroom. But, what a sight awaited him. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen lay before him on the bed. The astounded Lancelot asked what had happened
The beauty replied that since he had been so kind to her when she appeared as a witch, she would henceforth, be her horrible deformed self only half the time and the beautiful maiden the other half.
Which would he prefer? Beautiful during the day…or night?
Lancelot pondered the predicament. During the day, a beautiful woman to show off to his friends, but at night, in the privacy of his castle, an old witch? Or, would he prefer having a hideous witch during the day, but by night, a beautiful woman for him to enjoy wondrous intimate moments?

What would YOU do?
What Lancelot chose is below.
BUT…make YOUR choice before you scroll down below.

OKAY?

Noble Lancelot said that he would allow HER to make the choice herself.
Upon hearing this, she announced that she would be beautiful all the time because he had respected her enough to let her be in charge of her own life.
Now…what is the moral to this story?

The moral is…
If you don’t let a woman have her own way…
Things are going to get ugly

Japanese Eye Test

THIS IS BRILLIANT!!!


If you cannot decipher anything, then try pulling the corner of your eyes as if you were Japanese.

Now how many of you silly bastages actually pulled the corner of your eyes? :laughing: :blush:

Difference between a having a girlfriend in the US and a Muslim Country;

I know, I know, Allah is gonna have my ass for that one… F-It!! 8)

Illegal’s Boycott Arizona By Leaving

"Phoenix, AZ (AP) - Thousands of illegal immigrants are showing their outrage with Arizona’s controversial new SB-1070 law by boycotting the state and moving elsewhere.

One example of those who are punishing the state by leaving is illegal immigrant Manuel Renaldo. As he loaded his stolen car with his family of twelve’s belongings, Renaldo told this reporter through an interpreter, “It’s a matter of principle, ‘homes.’ I refuse to be supported by someplace that treats me like a criminal.”
The affects of the exodus are being felt by Arizona retailers who report dwindling beer, spray paint, and ammunition sales. Also hit hard are Arizona hospitals, who have reported a dramatic decline in births and emergency room visits by illegal aliens. “We’re ecstatic,” said one administrator for Banner Health in Phoenix. “At this rate we may see a profit one day.”
The boycott/exodus of Arizona by illegals is expected to grow exponentially leading up to the law’s starting date."

Well…darn it!! :laughing: