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We've had some serious discussion here about photojournalism.

Time to stand that on its head.

We've had the discussion of good journalism vice good business, the ethics of privacy vice the need of a professional photo-journalist to do what it is they do.

We talked about the nature of the news - why dog-bites-man isn't a story, man-bites-dog is.

Which brings me to my point.

The inferred story.  Hell, that's half our gripe with journos today, many aren't subtle in their inferences.  But I digress.

We went to the Kansas City Rennaissance Festival yesterday, an event now in it's 30th year or so. Hey, it was beer day. And young Miles needs to get brought up to speed on family traditions sooner rather than later. Yes, yes, make your "eccentric" jokes...   It was, as ever, great fun, as all the regions eccentrics come out into the light in a venue where they're the norm, and the normals are the eccentrics. 

And there was The Man Whose Dog Should Bite Him.  In fact, the lede should read, "Man, 40's, found in house torn to little kibbles, liberally besprinkled with multi-colored dyes."

But, clearly, this man's dog loves him, because he allowed him to live, and even to be seen in public with him.

I think the guy should be able to produce a paw-printed release form.

Seen at the Kansas City Renfest - a man whose dog *should* bite him....  8^ D


That's the first dog I've seen in drag.
Where's the ASPCA when you need them?

A good whatzis pic.

My answer:  helo pilot.

That ain't no dog.
That is either a very rare, as in nearly non-existent, miniature Wingless Hippogryph or one of the last remaining Dog Faced Griffin in juvenile form before it's wings sprouted.

Seriously though, when it comes to doggies in strange colors or dressed up in outfits, the only thing I look for is behavior. If the doggie don't behave like it's used to being abused, then it's all good.

Dogs dont care what color they're dyed out as. When it comes down to it, the only concern doggie may have is how the dye job may have changed his sniff-ability and scent signature.
My answer: helo pilot.

As in, what the Navy calls fling-wing nasal respirators. Good chance of being correct on that one.

'Twouldn't be a good call for an Army aviator, though -- we wouldn't be caught dead wearing Birkenstocks.

Or hauling a particolored poodle around on a purple leash...

Yea, right.  Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Yea, right.  Not that there's anything wrong with that.



Medic! The Echo bit Rick!
So, you saw Sen. John (served in Vietnam) Kerry ?

Sic 'em fido!
This reminds me of a young guy who owned a rather large mature tomcat. He didn't take care of it very well. In fact, there were questions of abuse. There's a bunch of things that appear disconnected, but are not. First. we have a recently retired Navy Master Chief, never married. This tomcat and the Master Chief were building a bond. Then there was this one night, the young guy wanted to have some romantic time with his girlfriend on a rather stormy night. He still put the cat out, he didn't care. The tomcat went straight to the Master Chief's house, never to return.

Well, before leaving, the tomcat left a "wet note of intention to leave" on each pillow.  Well, so much for romance. 

The Master Chief made  sure the girlfriend knew all of the facts after a visit to the veterinarian. Everybody found out eventually,
Cause of echo:   my laughing 

The above pic, with the mental pic of John's snapshot of you with your beshorted "friend", seared, REALLY seared into my memory, 'caused my command finger to push twice.  Spasmodically.  From LOLing. 

Highest respects, Sir.  Watched an SH3 lose a tail rotor off the arse end of a DDG one day.  The three  crewmen  swam away and were picked up with  a minor scratch.  Although all did  require the  surgical removal of seat cushion material.  That pilot won something for the "save".  Just another day at the office.

That pilot won something for the "save".

None of my "saves" involved loss of the aircraft -- but none of 'em involved being over water, either. Losing a tail rotor is bad enough when you *do* have someplace to put it. I had a friend whose  beast lost the entire gearbox during an OGE hover and it flipped inverted before he could roll the throttle off -- they went in from fifty feet with the aircraft on top of them and *lived*...
BillT, the guy's not wearing Birkenstocks.  Those are reproductions of the Roman soldier's sandal.  Have a pair myself.  Originally saw them at the Saalburg, in the Taunus Mountains above Frankfurt and Oberursel.  Recognized them at first glance my first trip to the Maryland Ren Faire.

That said, dude's got no class at all, making that poor dog come out in public looking like that...Sheesh. 
They make blue suede caligae?