June 7, 2010

  • The Coopster!

    If you are like me you are familiar with the name but have no idea why it is relevant or famous. The name is Daniel Cooper, or better known as D.B. Cooper. Just who or what the fuck is D.B. Cooper you ask? Yeah, I asked too. Wait. Actually I didn't ask. But I did watch this program on the National Geographic channel over the weekend about him. That's right people National Geographic does more than just expose schoolchildren to their first pair of tits, usually some poor, starving African lady, Nat Geo now has all sorts of interesting shit on a tv channel they created.

    Well as the story goes, sometime in November of the year nineteen hundred and seventy one, a man gets on a plane in Portland (or maybe it was Seattle, maybe you should just watch the damn thing yourself instead of wasting your time reading this crap) with the intent to secretly hijack it. I say secretly because the only people who knew he was going to hijack the plane were him, the FBI, the CIA and the Obama administration. When on the plane he tells the stewardess that if she doesn't "shut that baby the fuck up", than he is going to blow the ever loving shit out of the airplane. He also may have given her a note stating that had a bomb and demanded $200,000 along with two parachutes. None of the other passengers are made aware of the situation but they drop them off at, I dunno, their parents house? Well, somewhere and while on the ground they get the dude, who identifies himself as Dan Cooper, the shit that he needs. He then demands to be flown to Mexico. While in the air they explain to him that they threw the baby off the plane hours ago but that the pilots were too damn drunk to fly all the way to Mexico, instead telling them that they would fly to Australia instead. He told the stewardess to go check on the pilots just in case they needed another martini and while she was gone, he jumps the fuck out of the plane with the money.

    He is never seen or heard from again.

    The rest remains a mystery. He has taken one of the parachutes with him. The other one he leaves behind. Some of the money is recovered a few years later buried under the sand and dirt near a river. And so the mystery remains unsolved.

    Nobody knows what became of him. All I know is this is how shit would have went down if I were D.B. Cooper. Once I got the door open on that plane, I would have pissed and shit my pants and passed right the fuck out before I could even jump, leaving me laying on the floor of the plane for about 30 seconds before falling out of the plane, 10,000 feet to my eventual scraped knee, broken toenail and ever so slightly bruised hip. Oh, and my head would have become decapitated by the slamming door of the plane. Other than that, I would have been fine. 

    So the point is, you should watch this damn thing, its very interesting and as usual, I didn't even do the damn thing justice in writing about it.