You might be an Alaskan if:
- you owe more money on your snowmobile than your automobile
- you have more miles on your snowblower than on your car
- you have four seasons: Almost Winter, Winter, Still Winter, Construction
- you’ve hit a pothole and totaled your car
Lloyd and Bruce fly in to the Alaskan interior to go moose hunting. They have a good hunt, and both manage to get a large moose. When the plane returns to pick them up, the pilot looks at the animals and says, “This little plane won’t lift all of us, the equipment, and both of these animals–you’ll have to leave one. We’d never make it over the trees on the take-off.”
“That’s baloney”, says Bruce.
“Yeah,” Lloyd agrees, “you’re just chicken. We came out here last year and got two moose and that pilot had some guts; he wasn’t afraid to take off.”
“Yeah,” said Bruce, “and his plane wasn’t any bigger than yours!”
The pilot got angry, and said, “Well, if he did it, then I can do it, I can fly as well as anybody!” They loaded up, taxied at full throttle, and the plane almost made it but didn’t have the lift to clear the trees at the end of the lake. It clipped the top, then flipped, then broke up, scattering the baggage, animal carcasses, and passengers all through the brush.
Still alive, but shaken and dazed, the pilot sat up, shook his head to clear it, and said, “Where are we?”
Bruce rolled out from being thrown in a bush, looked around, and said, “I’d say, about a hundred yards further than last year.”