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zBrown
Ice climber
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Oct 26, 2017 - 06:41pm PT
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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Oct 26, 2017 - 11:17pm PT
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Well dang! and I find myself in the grips, sleep won't come and so I go to find and edit or delete
Or find soothing things to look at
It has done been a trip
Ive spent time on the tenderlion, jagged gritty 'Frisco street at 4am
jonesin' on the curb outside the crib - had more delivered
post
not ever
adicted
but theres evil and theres evil,
mostly when mis-used - all refined powders can be counted as such . .
Dang im in the grips
Its worse that ive got to flips,
Im at the edge of a city building roof,
stooping to clean carcasses (mostly rats with wings)
and the resulting smegma/offal from any stoop or perch
It pays
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Oct 27, 2017 - 04:18am PT
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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Oct 27, 2017 - 04:22am PT
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Re: my snott,
Thank You DMT . . .
its not deleted though
just combined
ya'see
Why?
if you have to ask?
Getting after it.
Grabbing Life by the balz
Clean Aid & Tuff as nails
because she posts these sort of selfies all the time
Im not against it, she is a very pretty girl
yup; a sunrlse snap: just when I go try, I have to wonder why? it is a sight to see the rise and fallGood Morning All
Wait, have you got that right?
I've not responded nor engaged . . .
or asked for that person's input . .
so threadmaster The error of your words provoke...
I've been asked & complied.
At each, I 'ave turned the other cheek.
Not Made A Peep.
I prefer not to fight, too
why does that sit off to the side when others chide me for doing the same as others do?
Are those posts addressing moi*? . .
(*From Middle French moy, from Old French mei, moi, mi (“me”), tonic form of me, from Latin mē (“me”), from Proto-Indo-European *(e)me-, *(e)me-n- (“me”).
Finnish · French · Lojban · Old French)
I would mind,
if'r it mattered a natter
but it don'inyha . so to short
to waste it passinrapids in the flow?
good
grief
take yer shotz, So long as I'm at it I'll just say that its cute the way some go and others stay two words or a book or poem, Its all good
utterances that will do
out
I'll be slack for a-while
bye
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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Oct 27, 2017 - 04:51am PT
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oh it looks so petty after an infusion of a white powder,
or coffeee take your pick
I just hope that He Is feeling better, getting what he needs, he will get no sparring from me.
I've got my own back problems to take care of
a short Pilatese bench that keeps the core activated all the time, think - legs up- no restinng while doing body weight-plus a bit on a sprung slide. . . a bench that rides on rollers, like a sawed-off version of the Chuck Norris gym thing.
I'll have to take a snap
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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Oct 27, 2017 - 04:56am PT
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!!!!@#%FWGH
F, What Gives Here
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Oct 27, 2017 - 05:51am PT
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By their deeds you shall see their souls, you vituperative POS. I couldn't care less about your butt hurting. Stay the hell off of this thread, Gnome.
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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Oct 27, 2017 - 06:06am PT
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?
great deals from this place
all ways a honor to be
always full of bile for me?
gee thats sweet of you
I have a bunch of icky junk to deal with
It will be better without this places' influence
Thank Ya' very much.
Have a nice day
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Oct 27, 2017 - 08:32am PT
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One tries very hard to create an aesthetic page, pleasing to the eye and soothing to the spirit.
And whaddya get? Boney fingers in yer eyes, that's what.
He won't shut up and he won't sit down,
He thinks he's hot but he's just a clown.
IrealizeCosmiceggedhimon.
"'So what?' as jr might say," I wrote, grinning ear to ear and thinking, "That's clever. Use it."
"One can still be civil to one who repeatedly offends, thereby retaining some dignity of self. I ought not to have used the term POS in dealing with the miscreant as it is an insult to feces in general" I thought after writing the previous paragraph.
And as a matter of fact, it is a nice day, after all.
I hope the dust settles quickly, like after a rockfall.
He'll be a face on a small boulder someday, after living.
Maybe then we can sit and smoke and talk of forgiving.
This, on top of the loss of Decker's friendship, still pains me.
Yes, it does.
And yes, Decker and I have parted ways, weighed anchors and sailed on.
Our ships were just passing in the night, and it was a long night.
There were no warnings of the coming fight: it just happened;
and the cannons flashed and the Good Ship Friendship was trashed.
He needed to converse according to his rules, which meant that he talked while I had to listen to everything he had to say without a peep, while I am accustomed to a style of conversation that is more free-form and relaxed, rule-wise.
Nawmean?
John suffers from PTSD. He's getting benefits from his service-connected disability. I have seen him angry with me once before. He got "that way" again two weeks ago (He has not been mentioned in these pages in that length of time.) and I left his apartment PDQ, thinking how grateful I was that nothing violent happened other than shouting and spitting (He was that mad.) and me splitting.
I went back up to his place last Friday evening and the Friday evening before that, and both times he said he did not want visitors that night. That's all he said and closed the door and locked it.
A sad face here, as I didn't like that. It's hard keeping friends, and it's hard keeping control of one's tongue. But it needs to be that we try hard to accommodate others' ways. And I feel like with Decker I really tried extra hard.
It's for the best, it's part of the test.
I'm at peace now with this burdensome thing, this grief. I'm accepting of the demise of this friendship, even with there being the possibility that I pulled the trigger on, flipped the switch on, pulled the lever on, injected the chemicals into, applied the torch to the pile of faggots under, pushed the knife into, pulled the trigger on (I said that), held the head of under the water, beat to a bloody pulp, mangled and strangled and manhandled and mutilated, destroyed, obliterated, cancelled, put a cap in, pushed off the cliff it stood upon, and/or killed the heck out of this society of two.
And this proscribed person says I am to blame for, yet again, another amicide, is what comes through the garble.
Nawmean?
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Oct 27, 2017 - 08:36am PT
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now--thankfully, you can enjoy new things from God's gracious hand....
sometimes the roads are tough, but God is teaching us all how to be:
"good trekkers"
--my buddy
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Topic Author's Reply - Oct 27, 2017 - 11:29am PT
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The same back to ya, Dingus.
Sometimes ya just wanna say "Flock it."
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Bushman
climber
The state of quantum flux
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Oct 27, 2017 - 11:58am PT
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How 'bout that MLB?
I'm working on a lengthy one
Tween jobs and hiring some
Another 'bout climbing in days of yore
Hoping it's not a waste of time
Or simply a monumental bore
Cheers from here also, MfM!
-tim
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Bushman
climber
The state of quantum flux
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Oct 27, 2017 - 03:38pm PT
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I thought it somewhat insensitive to post this on 'the collective grief of being a climber' thread, so I posted here instead. I hope that it does not too greatly offend.
Beyond the tragedy of the young dying young, I have my own unorthodox view about the handling and ceremony surrounding the passing of ourselves and our loved ones. Outside of grieving, mine is an extremely unrectified and unacceptable view in the mainstream. Many might think it coldhearted.
Right of Passage
Would that if I were a god
Without the foibles of humanity
I should not leave to death and rot
A carcass to those who've mostly known
Only wickedness and insanity
But mortal that I am no doubt
Please leave me in the woods
Where rightfully belongs this shell my coda
Expiring not to the hand of man
Who did long ago exceed their quota
-bushman
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throwpie
Trad climber
Berkeley
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Oct 27, 2017 - 06:16pm PT
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You can pick your friends, and you can pick your nose....
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