Is that one of those..."I've got a friend"... stories Don?Reminds me of the time, a young Airman was posted to the remote outpost of Saxa Vord or sexual void as it was called, the only birds he would see was the feathered type, So we got hold of his ironing board and drilled a hole in it at the appropriate place, stuck a mophead on it and painted a face on it, a modern Klondike Kate
My friends are mostly drunken reprobates,Is that one of those..."I've got a friend"... stories Don?