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mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Topic Author's Reply - Oct 15, 2017 - 04:24pm PT
zBrown

Ice climber
Oct 15, 2017 - 05:32pm PT
Me? I dig a pony.

You? Celebrate anything yhou want.

[Click to View YouTube Video]
zBrown

Ice climber
Oct 15, 2017 - 05:51pm PT
But can I dig it?
You mean the clown?


[Click to View YouTube Video]
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Topic Author's Reply - Oct 15, 2017 - 09:16pm PT
Chopin - "Raindrop" Prelude Op. 28 No. 15 - Riverside Guitar Duo
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h8BYoivdbjA
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Topic Author's Reply - Oct 15, 2017 - 09:24pm PT
[Click to View YouTube Video]
[Click to View YouTube Video]

Innumerable force of Spirits armed,
That durst dislike his reign, and, me preferring,
His utmost power with adverse power opposed
In dubious battle on the plains of Heaven
And shook his throne. What though the field be lost?
All is not lost—the unconquerable will,
And study of revenge, immortal hate,
And courage never to submit or yield:
And what is else not to be overcome?
--Paradise Lost

[Click to View YouTube Video]

https://www.timesofisrael.com/in-stairway-to-heaven-lawsuit-a-dead-jewish-rocker-is-the-star/
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Topic Author's Reply - Oct 15, 2017 - 11:07pm PT
[Click to View YouTube Video]
[Click to View YouTube Video]
[Click to View YouTube Video]
[Click to View YouTube Video]This slideshow was wholly inspired by President Donald J. Trump
who is as much of a criminal as Clinton,
or Bush sr, or Bush jr.,
or most other politicians usually are.
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Topic Author's Reply - Oct 15, 2017 - 11:13pm PT
Published on May 13, 2016

Mr. Tangerine Man

Hey, Mr. Tangerine man, build a wall for me
I'm not that bright and don't know that you're not going to
Hey, Mr. Tangerine man, keep Muslims away from me
With my jingoistic world view, I'll come following you

Fake me out with this,
I'll be your newest apprentice
My sister thinks you're a trip
All my friends say "Get a grip"
And my skull's too numb to think
Waiting only for the bullshit you've been pedaling

I'm ready to think anything
Your orange face does not fade
My IQ's 88
Cast your protesters my way
I promise to go punching them

Hey, Mr. Tangerine man, build a wall for me
I'm not that bright and don't know that you're not going to
Hey, Mr. Tangerine man, keep Muslims away from me
With my jingoistic world view, I'll come following you
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Topic Author's Reply - Oct 16, 2017 - 12:50am PT
Origin and history of "twit"
(Online Etymology Dictionary)

"foolish, stupid and ineffectual person."

Brit slang popular 1950s-60s, crossed over to US with Brit sitcoms.
(Think Basil Fawlty.)

It probably developed from the verb "to twit" in the sense of "reproach,"
but it may have been influenced by "nitwit."

I looked up "twit" in the dictionary and was not really surprised
not to find a picture of Tweetmaster Twump,
nor a definition for the Brit slang word.

Given time, however...

https://www.recode.net/2017/10/14/16475824/twitter-abuse-safety-jack-dorsey-rose-mcgowan-women-boycott

Trump or Troll?
http://mashable.com/2017/07/20/donald-trump-tweets-six-months/#BgxIXpwJBaq5

Google Images search: "Trump tweeting cartoons"
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Topic Author's Reply - Oct 16, 2017 - 12:53am PT
It seems I am on a Trump "toot."

I believe I've gotten it out of my system for now.
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Topic Author's Reply - Oct 16, 2017 - 05:29am PT
Trumpty Dumpty built a great wall
Trumpty Dumpty had a great fall


Classic 30s animation
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9HtOIzvA8U

Let that be a lesson to ya, Golden Boy.

Gnome Ofthe Diabase

climber
Out Of Bed
Oct 16, 2017 - 06:08am PT








how much for the purrtey red one?
its got be the least expensive ?
Look at that thing, its a boat.

lookin' for the families' new ride,

we came upon a few choices

I dis-like orange I real for reals do not like Red but it is a hybrid!? If I could choose, it would be more Silver,
mettalic, even with a green hue, But Black would do 'cept for how hot it gets50k miles on it & stills' way more $$, zen we'll have $$ in tires too, so shoes and consumptive issuses means it does n' doesn't fit the bill.it's a familiar whip in yellow.



this just dose not fit given










I was going to post this earlier but it Seems like i'da caught H, E double hockey sticks it is so vulgar after ahlles
Bushman

climber
The state of quantum flux
Oct 16, 2017 - 06:17am PT
Make America Glass Again

When the House went to the Dems
In twenty eighteen
The impeachment was started
Faster than can be
Trump declared Marshall Law
One two three
But New York and the West Coast
Rebelled simultaneously

The South and the Midwest
United as one
And the US of Covfefe
Was officially begun
The West and New York
Were called East-West Starbucks son
And the nukes were all lobbed
Helter skelter by the ton

America was now toast
After Civil War Two
There was no one left alive
Not a dog, cat, or shrew
Canada and Mexico
Divided it in two
A memorial was erected
At ground zero too

It commemorated the heroes
And innocents who died
And lambasted the president
That blatantly lied
Who's final solution
Was our nations genicide
In the end just like Hitler
He committed suicide

-bushman
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Topic Author's Reply - Oct 16, 2017 - 08:13am PT
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Topic Author's Reply - Oct 16, 2017 - 08:23am PT
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Topic Author's Reply - Oct 16, 2017 - 08:25am PT
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Topic Author's Reply - Oct 16, 2017 - 08:43am PT
Guest Poet / Ghost Poet

my third grader's class recently attended a 3-day field trip to Full Belly Farm near Dixon, California.

the teacher asked me to chaperon.
"of course i will," i countered to my friend.

so we load up the tacoma to the brim and me and a mamma
and two chilln's in the back seat diesel on
down to beautiful Capay Valley.

we set up camp in a meadow on the edge of
struggling-with-the-drought cache creek.

pleasant digs, to say the least.

a couple of things:
one.
like any heartful mountaineer, i begin scoping routes
on the nearby semi-dramatic hills.
and i spy my line. i wait for my opportunity window....


two.
so just adjacent to camp (like 100' away) are two sows (female pigs,) one called cookie - she all of 800 pounds, and the other, littler one's name escapes me.

now i'm a mountain boy and i got very little idea when it comes to farming and such, so i'm drawn to these interesting beasts like edison was drawn to lightening.

many times during camp set up, i'd wander over to the 2' high electric fence, usually with some students or other chaperons and watch and wonder at the pigs.
this one super hot momma, we'll call sally, says to me,
"i feel guilty. i can't help but see food when i look at the pigs. all other animals i see as, animals."
"so you are objectifying them, no?" i say to her breasts.
then i justify her bias, "sally. bacon is good. really good. you could even have it on top of your birthday cake."

she smiles the first glittering one at me.

about 2pm the first day, a rig pulls into camp
towing a trailer.
it backs up to the pig pen and out rolls romeo.
really, a magnificent male pig dubbed romeo.
he goes immediately to sinking his sword into
stone.

me and sally are watching this boar make pig love
to an 800 pound momma.
little milo (a small boy stundent) is wide-eyed
at the spectacle. me and sally, we giggle.

"wow." she utters.
of course milo has heaps-o'-questions regarding the
dramatic scene before us.
i answer the best i can: brazenly honest, to all of his inquiries.

i turn to sally, "this is about as intimate as we can get,
without actually getting intimate!"

"look at his stamina," i continue.
"look at her patience," she replies.
"porkys two, i laugh."

now the momma pig is not quiet in receiving excalibur.
it so happens that milo's father is also attending this field trip,
and when he spies his son two feet away from fornicating large farm animals he goes ape-scat and screams his son off.

"never too early for the birds and bees," i suggest to sally.

we all bed down that night at 7 pm, and i'm jonesin for a beer.
but of course alcohol is not permitted.

2 am. i shoot awake, as is my habit.
i sneak out of the tent (i've got 3-boys in my dwelling, with one other dad.)

what to do, i muse? so i wander about and admire stars
as they present to california's central valley. they look
slightly different that they do when viewed from the sierra crest.
everything is really beautiful. slight moon...
then suddenly my moment is interrupted by a teriffic squeal
and some thundering grunts...

so i head over to the sty.
for a gander.
but i stop by my tail gate
and grab two tall boys and a camp chair.

'im going in!' i don't say but think....


so i set up my seat in the middle of the sty
and crack open the morning.

i've no idea what to expect, but i'm enjoying the rush of the unknown.

first, cookie snuffles over.
these things are all nose.
she's snouting my
boots and my camp chair, and takes a nibble at my sleeve.
i gently giver my bony elbow and she backs off.

now the other two are en route and suddenly
i'm completely surrounded by huge pigs.

sipping scenic mind soup, i'm elated.
the moon is out, the pigs are about.
and the morning is abundant and all ours: the pigs and i.
oh, and adolf.

i finish my two canisters and now the sun is earning
the first rung on it's career ladder.

i head over and start the fire,
and soon after, kiddo's abound.

now throughout the day, the students
are engaged in farm activities, and the parents
are free to recreate.

i see my window.
i un-boot and roll up my pants
and walk across cache creek
and hump my way up to
'no-belief knoll,'
named such because on top resides
a beautiful blue oak with
noble leafs.

i gotta jump like 3 barbed-fences,
definitely the crux of the ascent.

two hours later i'm headed back to camp
on the valley floor.

i loose my way, slightly and
approach the creek at a different spot.

there are thickets and cat-tails and many
other ambitious aquatic plants in my way.

i give up on grace and just burl my way through.
at river's edge, i literally fall out
of a wall of plants and get slightly wet.

just across the creek is sally,
reading her book.

"swamp donkey," she yells to me with
another shiny smile.

i present her my espresso-stained-teeth
in a return salutation.

i wander over to the fire and mill about
with the other dads.

the children are still away, for another hour.

one inquires to where i've been?

"oh, up there. on 'no-belief knoll.'"

"no shite?" responds the district attorney of el dorado county."

"yes sir." i retort, respectfully.

"i had to jump a few fences," i naively offer.

"as your lawyer i suggest no further mention of the fences," says bill.
all the dads laugh.

now i've got a pink rock in my pocket that i collected for Makalu.
so i go over to her tent, with intent to put it beneath her pillow.

i unzip the tent, and there is sally, with her blouse slightly loose
and she is laying upon Maki's pillow...


... then next morning i repeat my pig affair,
and as i'm sitting there, i notice a silhouette of
a new character, outside of the fence.

pig number 4, i assign it a handle.

what the? so i set down my beer
and cookie immediately snouts up to it.
i scold her as i grab it from disaster,
and offer her a little beer puddle in my
empty chair.
she loves it.

i approach the other pig, that i assumed was
an escaped domestic, but instead it was
a wild boar, and it snorts and charges me,
glances off my right knee as i dart from his path.

i roll with the insult and begin stomping and
crackling my beer can and the f*#ker limps away
into the woods.

i assume that cookie got slaughtered so
maybe the next piece of bacon that you enjoy
will have a slight tint of adolf coors'
secret herbal-spice.

enjoy and hear sally squeal.

--norwegian
Bushman

climber
The state of quantum flux
Oct 16, 2017 - 08:58am PT
Wow, that was too real.
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Topic Author's Reply - Oct 16, 2017 - 10:55am PT
(Google clairvoyance.)

That's not Lake Merritt, so it must be the Colorado R. along Riverside Drive.

WTF ya do in Austin, gets around, remember...

Ever been out to the Baconies Fault?
[Click to View YouTube Video]
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Topic Author's Reply - Oct 16, 2017 - 12:32pm PT
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Topic Author's Reply - Oct 16, 2017 - 12:37pm PT
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