This stupid glue-eating idiot has to be the dumbest mother f**ker ever to fly a helicopter. What an embarassment to aviation. Read on:

"Years ago in the Gulf of Mexico, I left one of PHI's shore bases in a BO-105 to help with a rig crew-change. A 412 left the base behind me, VFR, giving me enough time to get on and off the deck before they arrived. The rig was waaaaay out, over an hour in the Bolkow. Weather was fine on "the beach." The rig was reporting "clear, blue and 22." Fifteen miles or so from it, I ran into an unforecast (and unforcastable) line of crap weather with a fog bank that I could not get over or under. Taking a deep breath and counting on my two RR-250's to keep running, I got down on the deck and hovered along for several tense minutes until I broke through to clear skies the other side. I radioed the 412 that they'd run into a line of sh*t, and things were bad down to about 10 miles from the rig but that the rig itself was in the clear. Once on the deck, I had a decision to make. I couldn't stay there because there wasn't enough room for me and the 412 and the rig didn't have fuel. Taking another deep breath, I launched and headed north. Hitting the fog bank, I got down on the deck again. Ghostly platforms appeared and slid slowly by on our left and right. My front seat passenger complimented me on knowing the right path through them. But I was just lucky that there weren't any directly in front of us. It was horrible. I promised God that if He got me through that mess, I would never, ever do something so stupid and I would devote my life to rescuing topless dancers from that industry if I had to visit every titty bar in Pensacola and tip them accordingly so they'd have enough money to switch careers and get a real job...like Helicopter Pilot. I broke out of the fog and found my refueling platform. The VFR 412, being able to take round-trip fuel, beat me back to base. All they said was, "Yeaaahhhh, it got pretty bad there for a while." None of us were newbies. The three of us knew what we had done. And we weren't proud of it. Sh*t happens, as they say. I'm sure we weren't the first Gulf of Mexico pilots to ever have that particular kind of sh*t happen, and we certainly were not the last."

there was no 412. unpossible there are 3 people on the planet this stupid. 

Thick fog off Cameron. Outbounds above 700, inbounds 500 or less. Use the channel makers as guidance with the radar. How the hell else do you get 1000 people on and offshore in two weeks of crap weather?

Go back to the non-smoking trailer and put on your safety vest

700 feet a little different than 7 feet bro

Please find a new word

before helicopters. who knows. I guess they didn't. too bad there isn't a way to do this without helicopters 

No sierra, there I was inverted over Siagon one turning one burning, was I scared, hill no.

If you hadn't made it that oil would have been lost forever

This one time at bandcamp

please don't let me die for doing something this stupid.

15 minutes later: does the same thing

Sounds like just another day in the "0ld" Helicopter Industry.

Aren;t many Oi producing platforms in the gOM skippy,NG.

"Sh*t happens" is an expression for when bad things occur that are out of your control.

If you delibertately do something that's stupid and dangerous on purpose, you can't just shrug your shoulders and say "oh, well sh*t happens, not my fault!" 

Sh*t happens is a slang sentence that is used as a simple existential ;observation that life is full of unfortunate unpredictable events, similar to "c'est la vie". The sentence is an acknowledgment that bad things happen to people seemingly for no particular reason.

In the story, the "sh*t" that happened was the unforecast and unpredictable fog bank that blocked the path from the beach to the rig, 3/4 of the way out.  

and he flew right into on purpose. twice. Lol 

Had kinda the same thing happen to me my first week in the GOM. When the weather deteriorated to company minimums I turned around and went back to the beach. I was fired before I finished the engine wash. 

in 1987

I wonder if he was the same guy that took off out of Cameron late knowing full well there was fog ahead then turned around when he couldn't go any further. Got back to the beach and by then it was socked in, he put it down in the sand and walked back to the base. After midnight and the fog lifted, we heard a helicopter landing on the far pad. Guess who walked back and brought his aircraft back home In the middle of the night? Nobody said a word. 

I discovered in running offshore like that was in really miserable weather, down low, slow, heavy rain etc. you definitely do not want a pitot-static system freeze.  Very rare, but it did happen.  Radio altimeter, power plus attitude can save the day, but not for long.  IWIW.