Picture the scene. It's a cold night beside the campfire and stars twinkle in the dark night sky. Three hang-glider pilots, one from Australia, one from South Africa and the other from New Zealand, are sitting around a campfire near Ayers Rock, each full of the bravado for which they are famous.
A night of tall tales begins. Steve the Aussie says, "I must be the meanest, toughest hang-glider dude there is. Why, just the other day, I landed in a field, scared a crocodile who got loose from the swamp and ate six men before I wrestled it to the ground with my bare hands."
Jerry from South Africa typically can't stand to be bettered. "Well you guys, I landed after a 200 mile flight on a tiny trail and a fifteen foot Namibian desert snake slid out from under a rock and made a move for me. I grabbed that bar-steward with my bare hands and beat it's head off, then sucked the poison down in one gulp. And I'm still here today."
Kevin the Kiwi remained silent, slowly poking the fire with his penis.
King of the Birds, Lord of the Skies
Gather ye rose buds while ye may, old time is still a flying;
and this same rose that you see today, tomorrow will be dying.
CarpeDiem: Seize the Day!
- Dead Poets Society
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