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silverado427

How old are you.

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Hey Bob when we were born Truman was president...LOL

 

I vaguely remember Noah loading the Ark. But I was so damned young then I hardly remember.

 

You fought in the forgotten war as a machine gunner correct?

Yep, Moby Dick was a minnow

 

And you were Frank's ammo carrier?

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Part of my present and past jobs has been to run checks on people either for new hires or to find them to serve papers to. I always get a kick out of those who think they are protecting their info by not posting it when in reality it is all out there already and easily found. My 86 year old father never used a computer and his DOB, address, phone number and other personal info is available on the internet with just a search of his name. Now if I use any of our paid services I can get income and a lot more data on him. Heck I used to be able to track guys down by finding who their girlfriends and family members were. Although it is always a good idea to limit the amount of information you put out there, just be aware that it is already there for anyone serious enough to spend time and maybe a little money, to obtain. That horse is out of the barn already. :)

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This question reminds me of Jan 1st when every forum I'm on sends me an automated Happy Birthday email.

 

There are a lot more guys in their 20's than I expected. I think that is a good thing for the future of RKBA in NJ. I suspect the younger guys have quite a few black rifles too..

 

I"m the 1st generation of my family to stand erect.

 

I laughed :lol:

 

That horse is out of the barn already. :)

 

It is still beneficial to limit the personal data you volunteer on the internet. You are in much better shape if all your personal information available on the internet was harvested from public records.

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"Too Old To Rock 'n' Roll: Too Young To Die"

 

The old Rocker wore his hair too long,

wore his trouser cuffs too tight.

Unfashionable to the end --- drank his ale too light.

Death's head belt buckle --- yesterday's dreams ---

the transport caf' prophet of doom.

Ringing no change in his double-sewn seams

in his post-war-babe gloom.

 

Now he's too old to Rock'n'Roll but he's too young to die.

 

He once owned a Harley Davidson and a Triumph Bonneville.

Counted his friends in burned-out spark plugs

and prays that he always will.

But he's the last of the blue blood greaser boys

all of his mates are doing time:

married with three kids up by the ring road

sold their souls straight down the line.

And some of them own little sports cars

and meet at the tennis club do's.

For drinks on a Sunday --- work on Monday.

They've thrown away their blue suede shoes.

 

Now they're too old to Rock'n'Roll and they're too young to die.

 

So the old Rocker gets out his bike

to make a ton before he takes his leave.

Up on the A1 by Scotch Corner

just like it used to be.

And as he flies --- tears in his eyes ---

his wind-whipped words echo the final take

and he hits the trunk road doing around 120

with no room left to brake.

 

And he was too old to Rock'n'Roll but he was too young to die.

No, you're never too old to Rock'n'Roll if you're too young to die.

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