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skcreidc
Social climber
SD, CA
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Nov 11, 2015 - 08:06pm PT
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Woot, woot!! I've aways found that opening my mouth got me in trouble anyway.
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Fritz
Trad climber
Choss Creek, ID
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Nov 11, 2015 - 08:08pm PT
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In mid 1970's Moscow Idaho, population 14,000, plus University of Idaho & 7 miles away Washington State University: there was a major party culture.
I was not tall, dark, or handsome, but I was fairly good at sales & closing sales, since I was running a local outdoor shop.
It was a very small puddle for climbers & outdoor folks.
I never appreciated how small the puddle was, until two new girlfriends in a row, mentioned something like this, just before our first night in the sack.
"I've heard you're big, & don't get tired."
All rumors of course, among the ladies. Bless their gossipy ways.
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ß Î Ø T Ç H
Boulder climber
ne'er–do–well
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Nov 11, 2015 - 09:06pm PT
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When any words are too many...... ... just STFU.
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Larry Nelson
Social climber
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Nov 12, 2015 - 05:22am PT
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Donini
LMAO, that is one funny story (which hasn't been topped).
No doubt that quivering handle was pointing up high.
Good ones also, Warbler, stich and Fritz
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donini
Trad climber
Ouray, Colorado
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Topic Author's Reply - Nov 12, 2015 - 07:18am PT
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Jody......you just had to politicize this thread. Ideologes (of every stripe) seem to be lacking in humor.
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Dingus McGee
Social climber
Where Safety trumps Leaving No Trace
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Nov 12, 2015 - 07:37am PT
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Blindly throwing a hatchet over your head ? reeks of inconsideration for others that may be passing by your locale -- in camp 4.
You are lucky that stuck in a tree trunk and not the trunk of a person.
Impulsive!
Randisi has an understanding of availability.
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SC seagoat
Trad climber
Santa Cruz, Moab, A sailboat, or some time zone
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Nov 12, 2015 - 08:24am PT
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Oh boy. I'm reading.
Susan
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couchmaster
climber
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Nov 12, 2015 - 08:35am PT
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Nowdays those same lovely lass's would look at us old dudes lookin their way...they'd shiver, then run the other way. Thinking "brr, old pervs". Times change although the memories are still precious.
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rick sumner
Trad climber
reno, nevada/ wasilla alaska
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Nov 12, 2015 - 08:38am PT
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Ah yes, old Jimbo's tale has yet to be surpassed.
This thread could have some real legs.
Come on amigos, you remember the tails of youth when the juices were coursing through bulging veins.
I have some fond memories, an incomparable lass and a wink on her part followed by my nod. But no, I won't go there. Mrs. Sumner occasionally looks in
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Jaybro
Social climber
Wolf City, Wyoming
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Nov 12, 2015 - 09:06am PT
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Everything is better in a memory, in fact it's just the way you want it to have been.
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Larry Nelson
Social climber
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Nov 12, 2015 - 09:29am PT
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The older I get, the better I used to be
;-)
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jstan
climber
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Nov 12, 2015 - 12:06pm PT
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That bit with Ed Ames is the best thing I have ever seen on TV.
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fear
Ice climber
hartford, ct
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Nov 12, 2015 - 12:10pm PT
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After an hour or so, she heard her boyfriend walking through camp calling her name, and she had to go, I said sure.
Pure poetry....
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Nov 12, 2015 - 12:15pm PT
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This took place in The Summer of 68.
While Jim was out terrorizing the Cong, I'd made my bird from being a Seaman Apprentice (S2) in the US Nay-ay-vee.
And this is how I became a semen dispenser for Stevee C. from NOLA, the Big Easy. And she was easy.
I was discharged in June, went to Yosemite for two weeks, spent a week or so in LA visiting with Jones, who'd likewise gotten an Undesirable Discharge for weed-smokin'...just as I had. He'd been at DLI/Monterey, and I'd been at Schools Command/Treasure Is.
During that LA visit, I managed to drop in on each of the Two Marlas, one of whom lived with her boyfriend in S. Laguna Beach, while the other, Marla #2, lived near the beach in Santa Monica. I'd met and slept with both of them in those two weeks in the Valley following my discharge.
Two Marlas. Two Jakes. Just the one Mouse. Just the one Marlow.
So, Stevee had shown up in Merced earlier that year, and she and her old man, John the Clueless, had set up their weed supply line and were dealing to my friends. I ended up living with these two after I came to roost in Merced following my LA tour with the Two Marlas.
Stevee and I, just prior to my moving in with them, had spent most of one night just walking around town in the July night's heat. We may have been wired, I don't remember. We walked and rapped, got to know more of each other's story, but all she really told me was that she was glad to be FROM New Orleans, she had warrants out in LA...not LA, but Louisiana.
Well, since we were here, why not go up into that tankhouse up there in the back of that house, I thought. It belonged to the Kellogg family, who ran the surplus store. It used to be that the tankhouse held water pumped from the yard's well, but it had been converted to a bedroom and bathroom since the city began supplying water service years ago.
I'd lost my virginity to Liz #1 up there back in high school. So I knew the layout and did not hesitate to visit the place this night with a VERY HOT CHICK (no comely lasses for me, thanks) in tow.
We were both tired of walking and talking. I said, "Let's do a no-clothes thing," it being so warm that night. She complied wordlessly.
We ran up to Yosemite that week-end together with Mathis and Mark and Yeates and had a delightful couple of nights. Then she was back with Old Clueless and I'd arranged for the spare room to be mine.
I can't imagine a guy being dumb enuff to not STFU and just take the direct route.
You can't type silently, even if you are the strong, silent type.
Life is good just letting it come to you. Plans are just budgets, which are just guidelines.
CAVEAT EMPTOR.
I mean CARPE DIEM. Sorry.
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paul roehl
Boulder climber
california
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Nov 12, 2015 - 02:49pm PT
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There was a blond waitress at the old mountain room bar sometime in the early 70s, who was so beautiful it made it difficult to sleep. Used to nurse beers in there just to watch her. One day saw her with her girlfriend sans clothes up at devil's BT and wow it was like being run over by a truck. Walking to the store that same afternoon she was coming the other way on the path and I had the perfect opportunity to speak to her but just couldn't. It was like backing off of some relatively easy climb out of fear, chicken sh*t... lots of self loathing and regret. Don't know why it was so damn hard to talk to women... and I still regret not saying anything forty some odd years later.
My experience in the Valley was there were occasionally women, but there were one hell of a lot more lonely guys.
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Jaybro
Social climber
Wolf City, Wyoming
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Nov 12, 2015 - 05:14pm PT
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Now that one, I believe!
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TGT
Social climber
So Cal
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Nov 12, 2015 - 06:15pm PT
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I sold my 68 R69S BMW a few years ago. It spent a few years after the new owner did minimal restoration at the Curtis Wright museum in New York.
He got it back from the museum about a year ago and when I was talking to him on a business matter chimed in,
"Hey there are babes in bikinis riding behind me on your bike."
well, it may as well work once more.
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zBrown
Ice climber
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Nov 12, 2015 - 06:53pm PT
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Back before Vera Jayne (Mansfield) Palmer was blonde and before I had extra cash on hand for an ax, I met her at the Caliente Race Track.
Just like John Mellencamp, I did my best James Dean.
She just grinned and shook my hand, "no was all she said".
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jstan
climber
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Nov 12, 2015 - 09:02pm PT
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You guys really should watch that bit between Ed Ames and Johnny Carson.
Devoting a whole thread to male irrationality when under the influence is a stretch. Let me suggest
the thread about the ark on the moon as an alternative.
In third grade I was particularly well trained in these matters. A girl sitting at the desk in front of
mine made a habit of sitting reversed in her seat so she could stare at me. I figured it out and
suggested she have her vision checked. Problem solved.
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