A few weeks ago, right before Thanksgiving, we had a paper airplane flying contest from the roof of our building.  We have done this a few years now and I, of course, aways win.  Well, I won this year anyhow!  That may seem like a small feat (considering how awesome I am) but this year’s competition was stiff.

You see, it’s all about the rules.  Here are the rules:

<crickets chirping>

Simple, see?  It’s all about the rules.  I had several entries (which is well within the rules…see above).  One guy shot his plane from a paintball gun (and though appearing impressive, it can only be described as fail).  One guy threw a box top as far as he could.  Several folks had “engineered” planes and several had old fashioned detention-earning planes.

We set up a windsock so that participants could properly prepare for field conditions.  Let me tell you, atop our building, it was windy!  Anyhow, as usual, several planes ended up in the nearby trees while others crashed immediately into the building.  Like a rocket, my plane (well, one of the four) just eased out of the gate and cruised onto an impressive victory…it was effortless!

So, I also produced some prizes for various categories as well.   Windshield washer fluid went to the plane that cleaned up (except I could not give the prize to myself).   The…uh…plane with the most fail got milkduds.  The plane that opened up a can of whooping on others got  matching pair of can openers.  Not only do the planes make for a lot of fun, I also get to heap on a huge pile of trash-talk.  Just as a precaution, I always stand back plenty far from the edge.  I’d hate to think my fellow fliers might want to test the effects of gravity on the mouthy one of the bunch…