Add LEB/Lois to the mix...(OT)

Oh, BIG Victory. Yeah, EVERYTHING is going to chance, because some pussy assed climbers have managed to increase their sense of exclusivity and intense uniqueness by running of an old woman who just wanted to hang out and post on political threads.


Yeah, you guys are BIG BAD Mountain Climbers. Liberal and educated to a fault.

God Damn damn pussies.



You guys ain't a pimple on a mans ass. Your behaviour is inexcusable and as generous and bold as a pile of ants stripping a chicken bone. She whupped your asses raw, and the lack of your hospitality, your evident cliquishness and your lack of personal tolerance speaks volumes to your ability to lie to yourselves about what kind of people you really are.


Yeah, Big Brave Men, Performing At The Pinnacle of Their Sport and admired by all.

Well, you just managed to banish an old gal who was actually enamored with what you do, and now she gets to pay for her association with us. Yeah, you guys make me real Proud of the personalities within the sport. You guys are SO much better than HER.

In your own f*#king messed up minds.



You guys can start working on me again, and every other poster whose harmless opinions you don't want to hear. What BOLD men you are.

because some climbers have managed to increase their sense of exclusivity and intense uniqueness by running of an old woman who just wanted to hang out and post on political threads.

"F-O BVB, you ain't got sh#t to talk."

Chris built this virtual deli. Most people come sit at the tables, get drunk, chat, argue, and occasionally buy one of his sandwiches.

Some people come to the deli just for the world-famous sandwiches, but they get really peeved that so many tables are filled with people that yak endlessly about things other than sandwiches. Even though there is an endless supply of tables, even though they don't have to sit and listen to the others, and even though they are free to talk about sandwiches as much as they want--with only the occasional and minor interruption--to them it just doesn't seem right. They say things like, "how dare they, this place is about sandwiches, dammit!" and "this is a travesty, there oughta be a law". They desperately desire that the guy at the other table, who used to be a master sandwich maker, would confide in them all the mysterious sandwich making arcana they so desperately crave, but alas it is not to be, he only speaks of fishsticks, fudgesickles and the Atkin's diet.

Meanwhile, Chris--who says things like, "I just wanna give back to the sanwich eatin' comminunitty, cuz ya know, gee whiz, aw shucks, sanwich eatin' has given so much to me,"--is out as much as possible eating, eating, eating the sandwiches of the world--research he calls it--while at the same time buying property like crazy in the red-hot Tahoe market, when of a sudden he gets a call from the deli manager. It turns out the suggestion box has had a few impassioned complaints about people who wilfully refuse to talk about sandwiches.

Chris must make an appearance, because these are the dorks who buy three sandwiches: one to eat now, one to eat later, and one to be kept cryogenically frozen at home and displayed with reverence to all who visit.

But Chris must proceed carefully if he is to continue his "research" and maintain his portentous property portfolio; on the one hand he must calm the minority dweebs, but on the other hand he cannot be too vociferous lest he drive off the masses that, while definitely less sandwichcentric, actually do buy more sandwiches, all tolled, than their bumbly brethren.

As usual Chris manages, with his endearing Richie Cunninghamesque charm to bring peace to the deli, and one and all proclaim that C-Mac is our "Sandwich Hero".