But I wasn’t accepted for flying duty—eyesight failed me. Neither was Frank, which, I’m ashamed to say, I found a relief. We were both channelled as aircrafthands […]

And frankly, jerkwad, you're not worthy to lick the dirt off his briefcase.

I'll give you an estimate after I do the quantity takeoffs for the trusses and structural steel.

The Harbour Bar was full of Royal Navy officers with debby girls. The debbiest took McKinley and me sailing, and afterwards we drank tankards of Pimms in the Yacht Club.