Always me with the Kitty pr0n

I swear I’ve tried to give it up. Really have. But once you’re hooked on the Tomcat, no other drug will do!

Git yer fix right here!

Pinch is prolly laughing at me right now, but, umm, we all know how it is. Don’t we, Pinch? 😉

Besides, whenever you get a chance to gawk at Slick and Squeaky, tell me you’re gonna look the other way.

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About Mongo
Mongo only pawn in game of life.

7 Responses to Always me with the Kitty pr0n

  1. Pingback: I have an addictive personality | The Lexicans

  2. Hogday says:

    There’s something about the Tomcat that always says, “The Businesss”

  3. Justthisguy says:

    Yawn. Now if you want to get me all excited, and run up my heart rate and blood pressure, show me some Bearcat pix, or a pic of a Wildcat with Thach in it and Felix the Cat painted on it. If it’s dressed in that sexy outfit, with the red discs inside the white stars inside the blue discs, with those 13 red and white stripes on the rudder, that just makes me throb.

    • Hogday says:

      The Bearcat display at Duxford was outstanding. What a head-on profile that plane has. No double cheeseburgers and fries for that crew.

  4. Alas, the Tomcat had the same problem the P-38 Lightning did; both were big-bosomed, badass machines, but both were also very expensive to maintain. That’s why the P-51 got the nod, and I suspect the Bug is (comparatively) much less expensive to maintain as well.

    • Justthisguy says:

      In Europe, people flying P-38s tended to suffer from hypothermia when up high, not having a nice hot engine right in front of them. It was just right for the Pacific, where people sometimes flew shirtless in combat, wearing only shorts and sneakers.

      The long range and spare engine were nice too when flying long distances over water.

      Also, it was a bit of a nerd’s airplane. Kelly Johnson made no allowance for semi-skilled pilots. For instance, both engines were critical. The props were outwardly-rotating to make the wing more efficient, which meant that if one failed on takeoff, you had to immediately _reduce_ power on the good one to avoid an instantaneous snap roll into a flaming pile of wreckage.

      Major McGuire, fellow bandsman and clarinetist, fellow Ga. Tech dropout, just lurrved the P-38. He was squadron engineering officer, liking machinery more than people. He did get along like a house afire with Colonel Lindbergh, which is not surprising, both of them having been suspected aspies.

      Owhell, he got a Medal of Honor for his trouble. It was posthumous, though.

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