Ugly in spirit and ugly by nature. Some people are just unpleasant. There's pretty unpleasant, plain unpleasant, and ugly unpleasant. Not so much a spectrum but morass of nastiness. Really there's no need for this type of behaviour. However some people are compelled towards it. Just as some people are nice others simply are not. Being misunderstood is not an excuse.
Good lord! You don't need a traumatic experience to have one of those. Age, at any age can contribute to that situation. Disease as predetermined and as unfair as it can be is another unfortunate factor. Over physical and mental stimulation doesn't need to be traumatic to lead to memory loss. Likewise under stimulation wouldn't be to much help either. Of course there is always alcohol. More than one too many sherbets will always do the job. There are methods, including self choice, but they are all too sordid to mention here. By the way where did you get those groovy glasses from Doc?
It's funny about what goes around. Who would have thought that the humble yet ego saving hairstyle that saved many men from excruciating embarrassment would be making a return? Frightening if it wasn't so true. Male youth around the globe at this very moment are discovering the self indulgent joys of the comb over. When I was young it looked stupid on the old and now that I am old it looks stupid on the young.
It always pays to look good. The effort to do so is its own reward. Never mind the amount of ruggedness or machismo you believe you need to complete your goal, working with what you have, or can add, is the key. Of couse don't forget to accessorise and only do so to bring attention to yourself. So, no matter the location or circumstance your looks, and how you carry them, are your own best friend.
Oh! To wish for a perfect world when all men can come together to enjoy a wistful sonnet or breath together in iambic pentameter. Yet those who are ugly of spirit will never know the joys of the gentle use of rhyme, alliteration, or the beauty of a well placed single word sentance. No. They will remain forever lost in a world of pettiness and meanness.
Sunday! How can they be stopped? Obsolete or not, Stuka Sunday is a law onto itself. Here they come from the sky itself. Stop them. Stop them! Not today. Not any day. Oh Stuka Sunday you are not want I wanted.
...just sayin'. This is no mystery. There is nothing to hide when you've got the goods. So when the big gun comes out it is time to handle it with quiet pride. Second nature is no friend of the devil as idleness has no chance for an introduction when well handled equipment and panache come together.
...the abyss! Well not really, and really no need to be so dramatic, but there is a choice. It is easy, no it is our duty, in our positions as arm chair critics to deliver exact advice at the right time. To skip away and not die may appear at first as an easy choice. However as choices go there appears to be some unease at this decision. If self justification has never been a strong point before, perhaps it becomes as no surprise to find it walking arm in arm in self preservation.
...oh the rejection...oh the dejection...oh the conjection (not really a word). Lost, sullen, and lonely (a real word) are what you become. It will be easy to blame yourself because you are wrong. It would be bad and inconsolable if you were acting on your own, however when all of you are involved the chance for any redemption goes so far west that it'll come back around and hit you in the back of the head as you watch it fly away.
Those naughty captains! What have they been doing? They must have done something really really bad if the C.O. needs to push his pencil into the desk, a clear sign of outrage by the commanding classes. You know things have really gotten severely out of hand when the phrase 'own good' is used in sentence. How bad can it be? Is one wearing Burberry and the other wearing Aquascutum? There are lesser crimes of course, but none greater than showing disunity to the men.
Being a pilot has so many benefits. Fast aircraft, fast cars, fast friends...but as it appears (or doesn't appear to be more accurate) that women, girls, sweethearts, the fairer sex, special friends, lady friends, female colleagues, wives, sisters or mothers do not appear to be a part of this fast, and sometimes short, life. Women are strangely absent from the pages of pocket war comics. It's not like they've been written out of history it's more like they've never been written in.
Is there really a need to do this kind of thing? I believe in a listen and let listen policy. You can always tell a lot about a person by the radio station they profess they listen to. Many a quick conclusion has been drawn, similar in manner when casual dress day is encountered in the workplace, concerning colleagues and others when it comes to radio station choice. Music is personal. It is defining. There is no excuse to go around bombing radio stations.
If other lesser mortals and immortals can be reimagined then why can't Battler? I know he's highly unlikeable. He's always right, he's never wrong, he's a big 'told you so', his plans always work, he's able to fly any aircraft, he always shoot down the King's enemies, he always knows what to do, he can always get out of a tight spot, his superiors rely on him, his men adore him, his colleagues respect him, he's resilient, he's resourceful, and the list goes on and on. So why no reboot? Why no overworked back story? Why no introduction of a sinister side? Why no spandex uniform? Come on Hollywood! You don't have to be an American to be a superhero...
...everybody wants it. Time to give it away and indulge or time to pull a number of favours for use later? If you were clearly in demand what would you do? Don't let the doomsayers and fun sponges take away from your moment with the chaps. Stick up for your rights and let everyone get a turn.
Schoolboy humour. Will it ever go away? Could it ever get more hopeless than this? Oh the sniggering...the restrained giggles, the mindless repetition, the unprovoked recitation. Childish? Guilty as charged!
A note to all captains of military, of sporting of industry observe, learn, understand, and apply what you see here. Leadership is more than a rank or a privilege or a reward for years of service. If it is your turn to take the reigns reject the situation until you are ready to do it properly. So when you are ready to take a man in the mid-upper position, particularly a new fellow, remember to lead with your moustache. This is more than providing your best appearance first. This is not a shallow display of uniform. This is about demonstrating confidence.
It's a funny looking word. It looks like it should sound, but it also looks like it could be another word pretending to sound like something else. Repeat it to yourself a number of times and it will change from your first pronunciation to your last. Saying it loudly will be very different to saying softly. Perhaps it's not so funny looking after all...
What is it with sailors and buttons. Old school naval jackets, even though very fetching, are awash with buttons. The good guys, the bad guys, even the indifferent guys all appear to appreciate an extra brass button or two. Notwithstanding the natural benefits of the alloy in the circumstances and environment, perhaps there are other forces at play? Perhaps they just look good. Even the bad guys and their inherent evil intent can have their good looking button day.
When you're in a hurry, making decisions can come second to opportunity or common sense. Kit on or kit off? Down here or up on the deck? The only thing you know is you have to be quick. Perhaps a combination of being up on deck with kit on or off is the way to go? Just as long as you can get your ship moving...
Some people like to be close as friends. Some people get close to be friends. Some people just push the whole getting close and touching behaviour too far by getting close and touching. Don't fall for the "have patience, you're not going to die" schtick. Unwanted attention is unwanted!
OK. The news is bad. No it's worse than that. It is a hell that you couldn't possibly imagine, until now. Even though you can't see it you can begin to hear the screams of the damned and feel the radiating heat start to melt your hair cream. All the fears and regrets you have ever held are pushed aside and replaced by something you instantly know is worse. Yet there you stand. Suave as ever.
Devotees will argue, many years later, that there was ample room on the raft for both Rose and Jack. Why Jack chose to sacrifice himself, if this were the case, is the subject of much speculation. Whatever the reason, the consequence is Rose was able to go on and lead a full and exciting life.
Jack may be gone but...you're here in my heart and my heart will go on and on.
The desert seems to be an appropriate place to find Crusaders. This is the first installment of hopefully many more of this British tank. These frames come from the mini (or should that be supplementary?) story "Close Range" found in the 1970 Battle Picture Library 498 Hunt the Traitor.
Some people are very forward in their intentions and choose not to hide their actions. Discretion appears to be foreign word to this people. Unless of course their intent is to be discreet, however given the nature of the endeavour at hand, that would be highly unlikely. Where do you stand when it comes to Englanders?
When you think about it, there should only be so much that can be done with ink to paper. Thinking about it too much can get you into a state of bother. This panel of men waiting in the desert is just wonderful.
You know it must be a real let down to fight a war and be ugly. Luckily I've got it where it counts in the "look at me department". The enemy doesn't stand a chance. That's why I decide to go direct every time, if you know what I mean. I'll even be able to do it with my eyes closed and think of England.
Could this be the best Nazi Detector Room ever! It has only just been installed and it has found 3 of them already. Not only does it find Nazis it also removes them. Making the room ready to use again and again. When not in use the Nazi Detector Room folds up and slides easily under your bed. Some construction required. Instructions included. Batteries not supplied.
Amazing. Hard to believe what only a few grams of lead can do to the morally and politically corrupt fighting for their miserable lives. Brave. There is no doubt. Wrong. There is no doubt. Poor kommand of English. There is no doubt.
The big bang theory is here and now. Fear not god botherers or soulless deniers. This isn't about that big question - proof or no proof, faith or no faith. This is about getting both your hands on it and giving it a good plunge and watching and enjoying what happens next. Push back be the only thing you need focus on and let your own experience guide you to what constitutes a safe distance.
For some of us things can be rough. Dream what you will but life can come down to one single desperate point. All realisations, all hopes, all dreams either come together or are ripped apart and vocalised by one inarticulate cry.
Some men believe in clear transitions in their lives and make a conscious effort to leave the past behind. Some take this one step further and any vestige or hint of times gone by is to be spurned. However taking it to the point of outrage is, by all accounts, deliciously childish. You know who these people are...
Take any War Picture Library, Battle Picture Library or Commando comic and you will always find those famous last words “arrgghhhhh” or even “donner und blitzen”.
Cowards try to prove themselves or officers interfere by trying to run battles “by the book”. The enemy is treacherous. Mysterious locations hold significant secrets. Sometimes a simple gun is the focal point of a unique karmic destiny.
There are those who are lost or left behind enemy lines where they invariably make a discovery – a hidden base, a wonder weapon or a traitor. The host of intangible struggles are often more significant such as the dark secret, the family shame, the family curse or the stigma of not being like the other chaps.
Strangely enough for stories about war and battle the killed the dead and the dying are usually absent.
There's a lot to like (and make fun of) among the dramatic titles, fantastic artwork, impossible stories, daring heroes, nasty bad guys, body building and not quite diamond rings advertisements.