Fiasco 1

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About Fiasco 1

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  • Location
    Vancouver Island Canada
  • Interests
    Racing my Ross 930

    Anarchy is not about a lack of rules.

    Its about decreasing the rulers.

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  1. Fiasco 1

    Race flag ownership

    Whats up Boys ? How the Hell did this happen ? Port Phillip what no location on your member ID ? Since this is my post i will stand on my box and say. What the hell Swastika ? Are you kidding me ... Grow a pair this is 2018 , You will be very un happy living in the past , in the new future . And i will keep my flags and especially my Canadian flag that represents all people . Not like some others that, Sorry i need to say this that hide behind some weird F--ck everyone else we have a amendment rule . I cant wait to see your Kids fly the Donald flag in 50 years and live by it .. Really ?
  2. Fiasco 1

    Race flag ownership

    So i have sold a boat that has acquired many race pennants , Do i give the flags to new owner to stay with boat and fly on his war pennant ? Fly them on my new boat ? Or just hang them in the garage ?
  3. Fiasco 1

    Mocking Ads on Craigslist

    WOW , I know that Tanzer had mine out at the same yard for paint ect. You should have seen the keel rust and weeping . Boat was kept on a mooring had not been cleaned in 4 years . They had to shovel the growth off her sides .
  4. Fiasco 1


    A politician dies and ends up standing in front of the pearly gates. Saint Peter looks at him for a second, flicks through his book, and finds his name. “So, you’re a politician…” “Well, yes, is that a problem?” “Oh no, no problem. But we’ve recently adopted a new system for people in your line of work, and unfortunately you will have to spend a day in Hell. After that however, you’re free to choose where you want to spend eternity!” “Wait, I have to spend a day in Hell?!” says the politician. “Those are the rules,” replies St Peter, clicks his fingers, and WOOMPH, the guy dissapears. He awakes, curled up with his hands over his eyes, knowing he’s in Hell. Cautiously, he listens for the screams, sniffs the air for brimstone, and finds… Nothing. Just the smell of, is that fabric softener? And cut grass, this can’t be right? “Open your eyes!” says a voice. “C’mon, wakey wakey, we’ve only got 24 hours!” Nervously, he uncovers his eyes, looks around, and sees he’s in a hotel room. A nice one too. Wait, this is a penthouse suite… And there’s a smiling man in a suit, holding a martini. “Who are you??” The politician asks. “Well, I’m Satan!” says the man, handing him the drink and helping him to his feet. “Welcome to Hell!” “Wait, this is Hell? But… Where’s all the pain and suffering?” he asks. Satan throws him a wink. “Oh, we’ve been a bit misrepresented over the years, it’s a long story. Anyway, this is your room! The minibar is of course free, as is the room service, there’s extra towels next to the hot-tub, and if you need anything, just call reception. But enough of this! It’s a beautiful day, and if you’d care to look outside…” Slightly stunned by the opulent surroundings, the man wanders over to the floor-to-ceiling windows through which the sun is glowing, looks far down, and sees a group of people cheering and waving at him from a golf course. “It’s one of 5 pro-level courses on site, and there’s another 6 just a few minutes drive out past the beach and harbour!” says Satan, answering his unasked question. So they head down in the lift, walk out through the glittering lobby where everyone waves and welcomes the man, as Satan signs autographs and cheerily talks shop with the laughing staff. And as he walks out, he sees the group on the golf course are made up of every one of his old friends, people he’s admired for years but never met or worked with, and people whose work he’s admired but died long before his career started. And out of the middle of this group walks his wife, with a massive smile and the body she had when she was 20, who throws her arms around him and plants a delicate kiss on his cheek. Everyone cheers and applauds, and as they slap him on the back and trade jokes, his worst enemy arrives, as a 2 foot tall goblin-esque caddy. He spends the day in the bright sunshine on the course, having the time of his life laughing at jokes and carrying important discussions, putting the world to rights with his friends while holding his delighted wife next to him as she gazes lovingly at him. Later, they return to the hotel for dinner and have an enormous meal, perfectly cooked. As everyone is falling about laughing and flinging bread sticks at each other, his wife whispers in his ear… And they return to their penthouse suite, and spend the rest of the night making love like they did on their honeymoon. After hours of passion, the man falls deep into the 100% Egyptian cotton pillows, and falls into a deep and happy sleep… and is woken up by St Peter. “So, that was Hell. Wasn’t what you were expecting, I bet?” “No sir!” says the man. “So then,” says St Peter. “You can make your choice. It’s Hell, which you saw, or Heaven, which has choral singing, talking to God, white robes, and so on.” “Well… I know this sounds strange, but on balance, I think I’d prefer Hell,” says the politician. “Not a problem, we totally understand! Enjoy!” says St Peter, and clicks his fingers again. The man wakes up in total darkness, the stench of ammonia filling the air and distant screams the only noise. As he adjusts, he can see the only light is from belches of flame far away, illuminating the ragged remains of people being tortured or burning in a sulphurous ocean. A sudden bolt of lightning reveals Satan next to him, wearing the same suit as before and grinning, holding a soldering iron in one hand and a coil of razor-wire in the other. “What’s this??” He cries. “Where’s the hotel?? Where’s my wife??? Where’s the minibar, the golf-courses, the pool, the restaurant, the free drinks and the sunshine???” “Ah”, says Satan. “You see, yesterday, we were campaigning. But today, you voted.”
  5. Fiasco 1

    Round Saltspring

    Yes Beaver point or the dreaded Fulford hole could make it for a long night . Well maybe a Batt rock start can save the clockwise decision lots of over 135 PHRF boats in this race. If no pressure in the AM that may be the call ? .
  6. Fiasco 1


    Someone asked me, "And now that you are retired, do you still have a job?" "Yes!" I replied, "I am my wife's sexual adviser." Somewhat shocked, they said "I beg your pardon, but what do you mean by that?" "Very simple. My wife has told me that when she wants my fucking advice, she'll ask me for it."
  7. Fiasco 1

    Plane Missing

    Yes smells funny, Edward Snowden types we need you.
  8. Fiasco 1

    Plane Missing

    How much is that plane worth by parts ? Why sell cocaine ? Passengers just collateral damage. Dam ...Sad..
  9. Fiasco 1

    Random PicThread

  10. Well i got nothing. Just feel like i am the last not to post on this thread. So there is my 5 seconds of fame.
  11. Fiasco 1

    single burner camp stove multi-gimballed

    I got one a year ago , Forespar hot spot mini galley #150000. Now it only accepts a small diameter pot or coffee pot size base. It came with a coffee pot perk style allumium. They do sell additional pots to fit i just use the one pot for one pot meals . Gimbal works good. They have a rail mount bracket also.