Discussion Topic |
|
This thread has been locked |
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Nov 25, 2017 - 02:34pm PT
|
Nacio is one of the names of the pseudo-Flames
From back in the day playing low-rider games
Other pseudo-members included:
Benny Bengosgos, a real head-case, had to keep him mellowed down with weed.
Jerry 'Carcia' Redondo, rebellious little sh!t who played a guitar in a grupo mariachi.
Rudy 'Hoho' Rojojo, always jokin' around, like leavin' a hidden bag of poop someplace.
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Nov 25, 2017 - 03:13pm PT
|
Oakcedarpinewillow moon.
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Nov 25, 2017 - 07:59pm PT
|
One for bushman. Sam Elliott movie from 1972.
[Click to View YouTube Video]Brought to you by the Cache Creek Amphibious Choir.
|
|
zBrown
Ice climber
|
|
Nov 25, 2017 - 08:19pm PT
|
optimistic parrot - polyAnna
well-spoken parrot - polyglot
horny parrot - polygamist
A parrot who knows all the angles
convex polyhedron aka Cuboctahedron-Rhombic Dodecahedron Compound
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Nov 26, 2017 - 05:36am PT
|
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Nov 26, 2017 - 05:44am PT
|
Main Street Christmas sometime near the beginning of the last century.
|
|
Bushman
climber
The state of quantum flux
|
|
Nov 26, 2017 - 06:07am PT
|
Ribbit
“It’s around here someplace,” I said. “Oh god, that thing grew huge overnight!” I exclaimed and blocked the pantry doorway, not wanting grandma to look at it. The frog in the pantry had grown to the size of a coffee table. But when grandma poked her head around me to see in there, she shrieked and passed out.
No worries I thought, and quickly used the defibrillator on my new iPhone XXIII to jolt her back to life. But that monstrous toad fellow was another problem. What to do, what to do?
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Nov 26, 2017 - 07:01am PT
|
Brilliant extempore riposte.^^^
Is the defibrillator built-in or just an app?
Birdies at dawn.
|
|
Bushman
climber
The state of quantum flux
|
|
Nov 26, 2017 - 08:32am PT
|
Let’s see, tap this symbol on the touchscreen and ⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡!!
Uh uh uh ....uh
Yeah, the defibrillator’s built right in.
|
|
zBrown
Ice climber
|
|
Nov 26, 2017 - 09:04am PT
|
soloing parrot - monopoly
tough parrot - polycarbonate
flock of parrots - polymers
Cut off their beaks to spite their faces
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Nov 26, 2017 - 11:07am PT
|
Beak kind to the polymer race
Who've lost quite a bit of their face
You took away their chow
What will they do now?
They may have to talk garblebase.
--Polly Lembert Dome
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Nov 26, 2017 - 11:25am PT
|
lines of the week--
now is a fulcurm.
on one side: doom.
on the other side: survival.
i, a passenger within a teeter-totter life.
yee haw.
--Astray
you've won:
A. recognition
B. a longer lever
congrats and welcome back, cutter
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Nov 26, 2017 - 02:09pm PT
|
We were escorted in by a twisted apparition out of Captain Cook's voyages to the South Seas...or some like book. The man who bade us enter was less a man than a meeting place for spare parts. he stood upon one wooden leg with a smooth leather knee. He leaned upon one wooden crutch with a bright fabric armpiece curved nicely to fit the contour of his hunched shoulder. One eye was covered with a dark patch and one hand was shrouded in a dark glove. His back was humped like a Greenland Sea whale and his shoulders sloped like a decrepit stile....
But by far the most unsightly appendage to his mangled body was a dirty-green parrot, which appeared to be growing like a second head out of his canted right shoulder. The parrot, as it it too had been surgically connected to that miracle's body, never teetered even as this agglomeration of artificial limbs lurched around the premises.
"Welcome to cap'n 'Awkins' Shootin' Gowry, Mince Lane," that worthy greeted us, shooting a hilarious gap-toothed grin in our direction. It was, however, somewhat difficult to distinguish which of those two heads, his or the parrot's, was doing the talking. "I knows yew and yew"--he rolled his heads at Field and Rogers as we filed into the dark hallway--"but 'oo is these two ducks?" He cocked his heads at us and grinned like poor Yorick's skull squared.
"Fock theer beerds, bloody poms!" his other head chirped gleefully. This wonder immediately ducked his occupied shoulder and took a swipe at his profane parrot with his gloved hand, but missed.
"Don't mind 'im, lads," he apologised with the gaps in his teeth spreading into a fractured grin. "Bad infloonces ship-board when larnin' the langwidge. Niver bin able ta cure 'im o' it."
"Fock yoor eyes, bloody knockers!" his second head protested that patronising apology for its social shortcomings....
The bullet-headed brute stepped forward with his hand outstretched in the most friendly manner as we approached....
"George 'Awkins 'ere," he introduced himself in the most jovial of voices, rather quiet actually, not at all fitting his Thuggee appearance and intimidating size. "Yee've met Sergeant Moody I takes it." He nodded to that twisted agglomeration of parts who had escorted us in. "Bert, we calls 'im. Short for Philbert, but 'ee 'ates the Phil. Wee're jus two ol' sojers keepin' on...Bert, bring the gin bottle," the hulking Hawkins ordered in an almost tender voice.
"Aye Cap'n." The little pieced-together man sidled off to obey....
Broken Bert returned with mugs of steaming gin.
"Fock yoor bellies, bloody jack tars!" the parrot (whose name I learned later was Walter) shrieked.
"Mustn't mind him," Captain Hawkins apologized in that soft, accommodating voice that was so poorly matched to his huge intimidating body. "Grew up on a bad ship."
--from "The Highwayman and Mr. Dickens" by Wm. J. Palmer
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Nov 26, 2017 - 04:31pm PT
|
Buffalo Springfield's second LP was called Buffalo Springfield, Again.
Pullen made over 70 LP covers in the 60s/70s.
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Nov 27, 2017 - 04:25am PT
|
No Success
I recall when I met The Legend.
I was hoping to create my own and he was living his.
There was a spark in each of us with which we were born,
one common to all men in all places who perform athletic maneuvers high above the ground.
He gave me willingly what I thought I needed then
and I was grateful for his generosity and the small amount of time we spent talking.
But in the years following our meeting I met with little success and saw much failure.
I was willing to settle for what I’d done and then other things got in my way
and the dream faded to almost nothing.
Meantime, his legend grew and flourished, his brand became known internationally, as well.
The difference between The Legend and myself became clear to me, eventually.
He had the ability to remain fixed on his goals while I was willing to accept failure.
When The Legend died and the whole world cried I cried for myself as well.
My Main Chance never came again until later, but in a different discipline entirely.
I would like to say I will never cry for myself again.
For now that the lesson’s learned the hard way,
“I’ll never take the easy way again,” I tell myself.
But of course, like when making a New Year resolution, I’m only hoping that this will be so.
Wish me luck, for it takes some of that to become legendary.
Sometimes things are not in our hands, but that of Fate.
And she’s a fickle one.
The only thing about her which we can trust is her fickleness.
So let me tell you that I will try my best when I sit down to the desk,
quill sharpened, ink bottle full, and parchment scraped clean,
mind awake and waiting patiently for the Muse to come to my aid.
I still need all the help which I can find
but most of all from my own mind.
--MFM
Rest in peace, Royal. Thanks for everything.
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Nov 27, 2017 - 08:59am PT
|
Finally some weather of note.
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Nov 27, 2017 - 09:11am PT
|
|
|
|
SuperTopo on the Web
|