Patrick@ayrewolfaviation.com
Sorry Honey but your crotch really stinks. But then I'm sure that after me not having time, nor ability to take personal cleansing seriously, I'm sure Herman and the boys are not smelling like roses either, so there goes that.
So had the distinked pleasure to let loose of some shall we say? pent up pressure, and I got something from the local Golden Arches, that I hadn't conceived of. It was a quarter pounder to be sure, just not one mixed with French fries. So here she came over which these days is a monumental happening. One would think that delving into an office complex studio, you'd get more applicants, than a sniffling of a smidgling of local feminazis. But not so, seems I got more applicants for our pin-up, aircraft nose art photography, and such, from them visiting the Wolf's Den rather than the Lair. Who knows? At any rate, { what kind of words is that any way? At any rate, what about 4-1/2 % ?} While conquests of a mating kind is not the 1st and only foundation to have somebody stop in and interview for our visual aids projects, still if it is offered, I ain't saying NO!!
Okay then. Am I just being in the wishful feeling dreaming delusion of the albeit slowly, but are nylons, pantyhose and such becoming popular again? Or is it just those wishing to attract guys and dough, from Twitter, facebook, and others to subscribe to their soft, but still porn, sites? I have no idea when the craving for staunch rear paws in nylon hosiery started. It could be one thing or a combination of many inputs as a young kid. The fact is, when I was growing, up in still rural then Layton Utah, it was the mid to late 1960's, hot pants, go-go boots, mini skirts, and the like, all worn by women with nylons of some sort, that tweaked my camshaft. Don't ask me where the staunch stinky part came into the mixture, but it's there. I'm not apologizing for the craving, I'm just saying that I like them, I feel closer to who I date when I do date, which is rare, but it's just an arousing Appetizer that gets my sensenses looking for scentses. 
And that's no noneScents.
And that's no noneScents.
Me on the air. I promised that once secure, that my hours online radioing, would be much more often. The fact is, I'm wearing 4 hats around here, including getting up to speed
on the basis, that with the Syndicate's President Jonny not doing well in the health department, I'm in OTS for the potential, of having to be President of the Syndicate, and that to be honest, scares the manure out of me. It's one thing to call a vendor or clients bluff, by saying, well I need to check with our Prezz, then I'll get back to you on this or that. In reality, my friends can be harder than falling 500 feet, into the South Pacific after a burnout. The no-pass-the-dollar, let alone the buck to someone else, ends when you become the main guy. So having the available hours to write, produce, and then air radio episodes is limited. I used to tease my fellow broadcasters on both automation and AI radio talent. Not any- more. As finding people, especially women, who can hoist up their petticoats, walk into the studio, and get it on, on the radio, or on air. LIVE non-recorded and edited radio, especially none talk, and groovy music radio, hosted by a joc, is like a small ant trying to move a boulder up a 90-degree grade. Eventually, he'll get it there, but it sure is a difficult task. Used to be once upon a time, just about 30 years ago, there were radio schools. One was in SLC Utah. Called the Ron Bailey Western School of Broadcasting. Not only did I go through the school, and catch a degree, but I gained a fishing pond to fish for new on-air voices, especially the feminazi, type. Those resources just don't or are nonexistent these days. Reason? Simple, it's what I call the Red Riddinghood, Wolf theory, syndrome. Little Red Riding Hood does not want to be in the same place as a radio studio, with this big onery Wolf. Especially if the craving for a tasty nibble of a hose-covered set of tootsies.
That all said, it's also that all too many would rather, work at the McJob, for a few dollars an hour with limited hours, rather than invest time learning skills, that while they may have other vocational plans, in their future, working with the WolfPack, means gaining hirable skills, that can at least put a roof over their heads and food in their midsized muffin top bodies.
In closing, I will be on the air, after Church in the afternoon on Sunday, precluding the Super Bowl. As well as All night Sunday into Monday. I will be off the air for a few weeks, though, getting to researching the tiny Idaho town of Hollbrook Idaho as a place to base yet another one of our station links.
See ya'll on the 2nd of March, tata.
