What's up with hating on the South and Alabama? Generalizing a whole area of the nation is not cool. There are lots of great folks in Alabama that you probably have a lot in common with and there are a lot of just as backwards ass rednecks that live down the road from you in Merced.
There are lots of great folks in Alabama that you probably have a lot in common with and there are a lot of just as backwards ass rednecks that live down the road from you in Merced.
hell, he prolly has lots of relatives in bama. prolly married his cousin.
BTW,
how is Lawrence these days? i went to grad school there.
Having your attention like the Roper Green in the can of your crib, be it double- or single-wide, porta-ledge or porta-potty, C4 or out the back door, this Mouse doesn't hate, sling sh#t at targets who can't handle it, and is learning that getting to the point is often like a climb.
I was involved briefly this morning in the Romney thread on Power of the States vs. Big Brother? And I got disgusted? Then along comes BASE104 with his expertise on oil and energy?
I'd already sold my soul to the devil that brought me, as my Grandad said, and so having made myself clear as to the value of the topic and the windy effluvia which it generated, and the place it was headed, I thought it best to dig a new hole (Post a Topic) and build a new outhouse.
There's a lot of spew around here, and we have a fine spewage system in place. Thank you, CMac, the advertisers, and anyone else in the executive white dungarees.
When the tubes get packed, what ya gonna do? It's up to you. You must construe how to deal with poo.
It's that simple. One. Two.
It's why I like zBrown. He "got It." It is the Synch, or in this case, the Sink. Remember several months ago when the discussion arose over fencing El Crap, I mean El Cap Meadow? And the angst? And now they're cutting trees there to expand it? And things are moving (snicker) in the right direction? And Peter Hahn and my crazy plan for waste removal? And how disgusted you all were or pretended to be over fecal matter in the wrong places last week at Facelift/Pooplift?
We definitely need to talk about shi-tsu, not talk it. And stop using euphemisms for "that word."
I will stop. My sister, Lenna Lou, just called and I have lost my train of thought.
One thing, I sent zBrown a pm, and I recall asking him specifically did he think I posted too much. Can-didly, MFM
As near I as can make out, if everybody stopped posting because someone objected to something he/she posted either as or in a thread, there wouldn't be much to read at night.
"Too much" is what you say when Rick Sylvester skies off a mountain.
Too fuukin' much is also allowed.
If you're hip, then 2-much.
If you're hip hop, then Tupac much.
If you're Shakespeare, then much ado about nothing. Amen
OK, zombies, I'm back to pick brains and got nothin but encouragement by two staunch allies. Gracias, amigos. I think I'd like to go back to the Buttermilks again, where the pancakes are piled like cow chips, the chicken-fried steak is V7, and the coffee is black as an Angus bull's hindquarters. Bishop's the bomb for breakfast. And I have seen places in the Butterymilks that are fouled. Don't switch that turd from your own pocket into that touron's Tommy Ten-Finger.
Everyone poops, especially climbers, none of em scoops and they shti where they like and we go take a hike and then there's tissue on the heel of yer shoe. McGoo, are you blind and can't smell? It's easy to tell you that I got nothing better to do than to stew over poo. But It's true, that I do, nothing new. I'm glad I didn't step in any on my latest midnight hike around the rim of the Ditch. Such rich imagery in the Sierra Nevada.
Here's the back side story, OK? Last night I was typing a long one to the abbreviated Rick Sylvester, RS, and trying to type another at the same time to my friend, DM in SF, when the ceiling in my bathroom came crashing down. I had my hands full and my brain was engaged. What a load of carpe diem. It's tragic. I can't use the bathroom. I was lucky to avoid personal injury. I am currently unloading, as it were, a la maniere of the Wall Climber. In the Mannerist style. John Donne comes immediately to mind.
(So do roaches, Marlow. They were nicely nested there in the space above the bath and toilet.)
It's been cleaned up now, but the leak's done a lot of damage. They need to inspect the possibility that the plaster, which makes up half the ceiling (it's been patched once before with wallboard, not plaster) is liquifying, so they may need to replace the whole shebang.
Is it any wonder, Taco, that I am here in this "single-wide of the mind" and thinking thoughts of sewage? Alabama? Darkish thoughts?
I have been shut out of my library!!! And I'm using an old B&N book bag. And I'm really glad I kept it around for such an emergency. I am storing it in a larger plastic sack to eliminate the odor, which, frankly, isn't bad. :) My neighbor John is letting me dump it there when he's home. It's a totally make-do situation. (Don't mean to gross you out, but things are what they are. Shti happens.
But all the same, we should discuss the porta-potty line at Yellow Pine and realize it's not possible or economical, even if it were legal, to use composting toilets, for example in there, or in any such locations:
1) The NPS won't go for it. Permanent vault? Who knows what else.
2) A few more in the line is the obvious solution, the easiest, anyway, to the problem of potties "filling up" over the course of the week. I heard various complaints. I have ears.
Bears shti in the woods. What's up with that? It's a catholic question.
After all, "Cosi fan tutti." (Literally, "everyone does it.")
I'm sure glad you do, too, Taco.
Here is a song my dad the Boomer learned us on the 99 between rest stops, which he learned from some Limey in the war. He knew the name of the tune as "Humoresque," though we generally used "Passengers Will Please Refrain" when speaking of the title of this ditty. LOL.
I have to agree with the mouse here for the most part, i too used to think Chicken fried steak at Jacks in Bishop is at least V7, I realized this when I was at the happies a few weeks ago & it appeared as tho someone had exploded ass-first right across from the happy boulder. Well ok I thought, maybe it's only V5. Then I headed down to do a lap on headbanger cave when I found some sort of devastated, mummified remains spread everywhere. This I realized was the area testpiece & for a moment glimpsed into the soul of the being who had carelessly discarded this colon fetus & realized that they must have been in some sort of frantic state when they made that ultimate decision of inconsideration, eyes darting around, drenched in fear. Desperate. Fighting for the send of their life. This is when I realized that grading a chicken fried steak is quite a subjective task.
I will add however, to avoid a complete nonsense post. That if u shlt at the cliff and are closer than say 200yds from the closest prob/route & u don't bury it or take it with or at the very least burn your TP then u r a douche. Just train yourself to Poo at home. I trained my dog to do it do so a human should be able to as well, no?
Yeah, how many "fartifacts" did you guys and ladies find near any "Boulders" (don't ask me to define "Boulders" because it's in the eyes...no pix of boulder holders, pls) while collecting trash last week in the Valley? Or high country?
Ryan D, that is keen observation and let's just say there is potential for great problems the more climbers there are congregating in spots to boulder. Way more than in the high country crags, I'm assuming. I did find some doo-goo near the base of Nutty Buddy and lower Bro among some worked boulders. It wasn't tourons back in there.
One good thing about this housekeeping disaster is that yesterday a.m. I got up early and caught the bus to the Valley. MrE is right. I got Facelift Fever and found myself litter-hunting downstream from EC bridge. The apartment was put on the back burner for the day and I spent part of the afternoon with Merry and her cat, Werner scoping things out in the other world, and we settled one thing, that I don't need to climb to free myself, there are other things I can do. I feel so slow from the aging process: the cumulative effects are really combining to keep me from the rock. It takes me longer to go from one spot to another. There is the trail, though, and it's in no rush, so Merry helped me to reconcile my dismal spirit's decline. There are a lot of challenging trails and it's only a two hour bus trip.
The fallen log crossed is another soul lost,
just rotting silently.
People like the Brauns, like Sybelle, like Leo, like Donini, like Rick Sylvester, and dozens of others are still participating in this mad pastime at unusual ages, shall we say; and, if not at their former high points of form and "crushing" it, they are still making big dents.
And there's a significant level below these fitness freaks, I call them that in comparison to me, the opposite end of the training spectrum, the guy that hates to run, that never cared to up the total of pullups to a double-digit, even. It does take all kinds, though, and if my kind is the kind that's in for a pity party at the end of the career, so what. I need to get off the pot, manner of speaking, and do what I can.
At Meatfest we were jawing about old style pro. It seems that Sybelle Hechtel is a Stopper freak. She needs some specific sizes and they are getting harder to find. Anyone who cared to do so, could maybe help, if you have some. If you guys missed out, too bad. She lives in Silverthorn out there in the Rockies. She's one of the best things about the last week, far as I am concerned. I was not certain it was her at first, when I saw her for the first time after forty plus years in the East Auditorium. I saw how fit and pretty she still is, and man-o-man! I really mean it. She's dedicated an entire life to staying fit. My compliments to her. You will always be unique, Sybelle.
Too bad she'll never read that, because who would want to read such a disgusting Troll Report as this has turned into?
I am glad to report that I walked quite a bit yesterday and got around OK, but I expended a lot of energy over the Facelift and it takes time to recharge. I needed to do what I did. I can safely say there is NO LITTER ANYWHERE I LOOKED! I had to really scrounge to find the 3 tiny pieces of micro-t and then I found a large wadded up Kleenex! It never never ends.
I got up to find an email to the effect that Lucky Pink has found the photograph of my wife that I lost when I packed up my tent. Thanks, Maureen. Times thirteen!
They're spraying the units on my floor for pests (disgusting cockroaches) and they say that they'll get started on the repairs tomorrow. We shall wait patiently at Coffee Bandits while the bugs DIE, my book and I.
Let us know!