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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujo de La Playa
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Jan 28, 2014 - 10:57am PT
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Good to see that you're getting the club sign down, Mousie.
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throwpie
Trad climber
Berkeley
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Jan 28, 2014 - 11:26am PT
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My Flame short...
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Jan 29, 2014 - 08:33am PT
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Si, mon.
I was nearly "finished."
I only had to post these pages.
Jones and I arrived at Altamont on Friday, delivered from the clutches of a '56 Chevy, yellow, whose driver knew the backroads, namely Altamont Pass Rd. and N. Midway Rd. He delivered us to a scene lit by flames, fueled by Red Mountain leading the way, followed by copious other anti-inhibitional substances.
But Steve tells the story well, much better than the one who was there, because Steve bothered to work at gathering together so many different viewpoints. It's all connected. You'll see. Enjoy.
Then we can worry about Al Davis and his old Raiders, the Madden teams, MY OLD TEAM.
Whew!
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujo de la Playa
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Jan 29, 2014 - 04:09pm PT
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I see it clearly now, but from a different point of view..
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Jan 29, 2014 - 07:40pm PT
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Ai-yi-yi!
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujo de la Playa
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Jan 29, 2014 - 08:02pm PT
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The view from Potato Chip Rock in Poway. I have no idea who is standing there. I wonder if it could be the mysterious Mr. Potato Chip Head.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Jan 30, 2014 - 12:53am PT
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Poway?Otay.
If you say.
I knew Walt Frago. He went to school with my brother Mike.
The Newhall Massacre.
The Newhall massacre or the Newhall Incident was a shootout between two heavily armed criminals and officers of the California Highway Patrol (CHP) in the Newhall unincorporated area of Los Angeles County, California on April 6, 1970. In less than 5 minutes, four CHP officers were killed in what was at the time the deadliest day in the history of California law enforcement.[1]
At approximately 11:55 p.m. (UTC-8), CHP officers Walt Frago and Roger Gore conducted a traffic stop of Bobby Davis and Jack Twinning in conjunction with an incident involving the pair that had been reported to the CHP minutes earlier. After stopping in a restaurant parking lot and initially cooperating with the officers, Twinning and Davis opened fire and killed both officers. Minutes later, Officers George Alleyn and James Pence arrived on the scene and engaged Twinning and Davis in a shootout. A passerby picked up one of the officers' weapons and opened fire on the perpetrators; however, the three were outgunned and both Alleyn and Pence suffered fatal injuries while the passerby ran out of ammunition and took cover in a ditch. A third CHP patrol car arrived on the scene and the lone officer inside briefly exchanged gunfire with the perpetrators, but they were able to flee the scene.
Over three hours later, Davis stole a vehicle after exchanging gunfire with its owner. He attempted to flee the area; however, he was spotted by police and arrested. Meanwhile, Twinning broke into a house and took one of its occupants hostage. The house was surrounded by deputies of the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department and at approximately 9:00 a.m., he released the hostage and committed suicide when the deputies entered the house. Davis was sentenced to death but had his sentence commuted to life imprisonment without the possibility of parole in 1973. He killed himself[2] at Kern Valley State Prison in 2009.
The Newhall massacre resulted in a number of changes at the CHP, including procedural changes in arresting high risk suspects and standardization of firearms and firearms training used across the department.--Wikipedia
Walt has controlling interest in this pair, not the pair who are rumored to be breaking up over goofy mistakes that Minnie made or may not have made. Again.Variety is the price of life.
And death.zBrown is my friend, I'm proud to utter.
A stand-up guy, another old nutter.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Jan 30, 2014 - 02:11am PT
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Nomadder what happens, the beat goes on.[Click to View YouTube Video]Mice still keep marchin' up the street, down the street, missing your beat, feeling to his own Wich thwobbing.
La di dah dee-dee.
You'd like to think they're in a maze,
They're just in a druggy haze.
Let's stop at "The Maze" (a real drug store on Main in the sixties).
They're so far from straight it can't be just a sudden phase.
La di dah dee-dah.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Jan 30, 2014 - 09:06am PT
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujo de la Playa
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Jan 30, 2014 - 10:50am PT
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A ways from Poway, but the North Hollywood Bank Shootout was another stunning gun (stun gun you say?)battle. Tons of Youtube on this one. Here's a sample, if you're into firearms.
[Click to View YouTube Video]
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Jan 30, 2014 - 11:32am PT
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This is not a debate on firearms but the history class for those who would like to keep dogging the issue till it's a dead dog.
Why not just shoot it now, befo' he run, Dawg?
Blood for brea'fas' no good fo' ya, 'dead or alive.'
GOT TA have my cookies and pudding!
[Click to View YouTube Video]
One hole in the cookie?
Must've been a richochet...
Nobody hurt in the filming of this wonderful, wonderful story.
It's Belle the Kitty.I removed my eyes' glass for ONE MINUTE and an OWL, another accursed night hunter, moves in! Jeeper creepers!
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujo de la Playa
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Jan 30, 2014 - 12:27pm PT
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Some coincidence. My friend on the ST adds an owl to my sister's collection. If we ever get out of court, I'm gonna have to hitchhike up there to Merced to see it and actually meet someone on the old ST.
Is it near Argentina?
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujo de la Playa
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Jan 30, 2014 - 06:57pm PT
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badmanBrown ? probably off standing in the corner
[Click to View YouTube Video]
A fantastic collection of clamps to win friends and influence your uncle.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Jan 31, 2014 - 04:02pm PT
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Brother. Uncle. Brother. Uncle.
I gave up at the office.
Vern is no longer employed by the Tioga Management team. He is now just a tenant. They left for Santa Cruz this morning.
I'm reading all day.
No. 1 Thumb Mountain Road by Hoh No Spocks.
Interesting man, that guy in the Morrison T-Shirt. We met up at the Partisan last night. He is named Eric, he bought me a PBR and we and another of his friends went and toured the Tioga, had a safety meeting on the Moussolini Balcony, and then retreated in the teeth of a cold wind.
It was a good day for clouds here.
I'm getting back on mine.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Jan 31, 2014 - 04:33pm PT
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Pay your deductible and all will go flowingly.Let us leave.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Jan 31, 2014 - 07:18pm PT
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Get outa town, Mouse.
[Click to View YouTube Video]Can't go, too ill.
[Click to View YouTube Video]Every time I do these I wheeze.
I simply can't just do as I please.
I'm on my heels and on my knees.
The bang's all here. I'm not very well, though.
I've explained my asthma. It's an ER doc's decision the problem with my breath is not an allergy to mold, like my VA doc opined and won't change his mind.
I'm stuck with COPD, I guess. I've got to start the road back today with kind thanks to T Hocking and neebee. You were the only ones to know of the visit to the hospital (seven hours). Thanks for not mentioning it to anyone.
It's only been two days and I'm taking steroids (pred) and had a lung infection so am on an antibiotic as well. My Mickey Mouse Club lunchbox of pills is mostly full now. Nine scrips, I think.
I was wanting to go to the Valley to see the weather yesterday. Instead I got to drink my ass off thinking how much time I've got left, all that inspiring stuff, guaranteed to bore everyone else to tears.
JJ has it right. Dump the stuff. Don't really expect anything after the lights are off. Why ruin the surprise? It took your whole life, man, to get this far.
Thoughts of self-doubt and erasure crossed my mind briefly, but that will never happen unless I'm maybe caught in a raging inFresno.
Bar thought: God is a mercenary, not a Jew, an Anabaptist, a Christer, nor a Catholic boy. He's gonna charge you at the gate, twenty bucks. You get to stay in any campground for as long as you wish. Or you can leave and go to Fresno or to Mammoth and come back at no charge once a year to see how they're dividing your assets. God knows we need twenty in our wallet at all times. He knows. We just gotta be prepared with that Andy under the driver's license. But how to take it with you, that is the question. The one Shakespeare dodged.
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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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Jan 31, 2014 - 07:42pm PT
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hey there say, mouse...
wow, however IF you had been stuck in the hospital a long time, of course, we then would have shared:
we just learned after the fact:
no one should be alone in the hospital, :(
say, my daddy started having lung trouble and not breathing well, it started with a dry cough... turned out he had scars on his lungs...
pulmonary fibrosis, they said...
he never smoked and only had a drink of wine or beer with supper, no hard stuff... :
but--there is a list of things that can cause it...
asbestos... (don't know if he was ever around that?)
and, some mediations...
i even saw that ONE (one and only, ? or just one of ?) the arrhythmia
medication CAN cause that :O and--he was taking something (don't know if it was the same medication or or not) for years, for that arrhythmia, :O
then, about four other medications, as well, can cause that, :O
and something about the fake butter flavoring in microwave popcorn...
(were even calling it 'popcorn' lung, i think it said?)
ohhh my, :O
say, keep those lungs as well as you can...
and say:
keep your household treasure, too, for a bit...
god gives them to you, as a hug and to let you know you are loved by folks as these are 'around the house hugs'...
things work out, where all these things should end up...
get rid of the 'pack rat' stuff, is usually the best thing...
:)
keep your mouse who you are, stuff, :)
the //rats/rests//, can go, ;))
say:
actually though... many folks HAVE found... it is nicer that folks
leave behind 'who they were' it give others the chance to see
'who' their loved ones WERE in the home-where-they-live...
it cause 'good past memories' to be highlighted and remembered,
when folks go through these 'parts of you' that are left behind,
sure--it is a big chore, but IF the loved ones were a special part
of someone's life:
this chore will touch there heart in new ways, for the long hard haul of
life without that person...
see? and--something may have gotten thrown out, too early:
something that would be a treasure for someone, in this 'chore'
that they go through...
i think feralfae, would understand too, right iloilo?
it is hard, and we may cry--but our hearts are touched deeply
as we move through 'the trail footprints' of our beloved, and it
makes us TWICE as glad, that we knew them...
and enjoy 'these things' with them...
i need to remember that, too, when i am tempted to get rid of too much,
so i can live simple... the grandkids ARE still here, though i do not see them much--and somethings here, can still touch them, after i am gone...
if nothing is left here, then, no footprints or less of them, will remind
them of my love that we shared here, or 'who' i was...
the inner heart treasure, will still be there, but for some, it fades without the trail markers and gets hazy... especially if they are youth...
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Bless these thoughts, Lord.
Our lives mean only one thing, a means.
Good, bad, our choice.
Nasty, sad, your voice.
Joyful, glad-to-have-been-here,
"Hey say I've been there."
And this is what to do
If you don't mind a thought or two...
Maybe a surprise in the finding, too.
Arghh, maties. Death is a treasure chest of memories.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Oops, my badulpa. I thought this was the FNPWD thread.
Gamerz. They pay to belong to this arcane way of life!
Silver spooners only, no dirtbags need apply.
For those too dimly lit to realize this following bit is parody, hey, it's that very same, or intended to be so. Thanky.
What would YOU do if Dewars wanted to do you or one of your lame relatives in a "Profile?" I'd likely try something like this to impress the reader.
I wouldn't get paid, but might the hell get laid.
Dewar’s Profiles in Discourage NO. 009
Archived.
Name: Joe, an itinerant who climbs, skis, races dogsleds as a substitute, had an affair with a husky, lost the gig, ended up in Camp 4. Last name could be Faint, Fitschen, Blow, Klutz, they are all the damn same, season after season.
There are thirteen hundred thousand stories so far in the archives of the Naked Campground, and we need more. Send ‘em in.
Home: Lonelyville.
Age: 30.
Profession: Gentleman of leisure. (Jerk can’t locate work—dirtbag.)
Drink of choice: Absinthe and Prozac. (Red Mountain, Vino de Tavola, Old Kletterschehe...meh.)
Most memorable book: Scotch Rite Treemasonry Illustrated. (Roper II, the Greenie.)
(Interestingly, I recall reading this first book, which was about
an angry young bearded Scotsman from the Midwest named Jack, but it may have been
otherwise, since it was a long time back, if ever it happened. Never relied on a word of the second title.)
Favorite pick-up line: “Do you go with the flow?”
Most ineffective pick-up line: “Whoa! Doggies!”
Funniest put-down: “I’m not the dog-walker, dude. I’m jus’ th’ maid. Got a light, ass-bite?”
Yew f*#kers which/who might/would kick a fuss if I were to offer ya a Rolling Rock in my home?
From one dirge-bragger to another, yer full of it if ya do and yer gunna die from alcohol poisoning.
You’d love one from the cooler on a hot day after a climb, though. I know. I’m not a fool.
I’ve had one Fireball, one real good Tanilla the Porter from Knee Deep.
I’ve drunk up four glasses of Angry Orchard on tap, mmmm....good.
And I even found a Rolling Rock in the fridge when I got home.
I ate a big bowl of Reinero’s clam chowder, best ever. Spicy.
It’s still Friday far out in the ocean west of here.
I did go do a climb when inebriated tonight.
I am no slacker when I feel good, and steroids help the booze.
I may be boasting
But I am just posting
Drunk on a Friday night.
The climb occurred on the spur
Of the momentous corner
Of the place
Where I first was employed:
The Valley Stationers
Shaffer Bldg.
M and Main
Merced.
It was so damn fine
I saw a line
An open book
But I still took
The time to scope it more.
Another way geckoed,
It really echoed
Over the traffic's roar
Out on the face
Go at a slow pace
With a shifty-nifty layback there,
then a little up and a bit more left
Then another slow step...
And then I’ll need no more.
Who needs books anyway?
Not I, I said,
It's mine, it's led.
I did not linger
I licked no finger
And at that thing I tore.
Before I knew it
I had do it--
I’d climbed to the top of the store.
I tagged the ledge
Crept back down edge by edge
Cleverly laying back
To look at the sky,
O my O my
Is my reply
To this humble
Yet very grand try.
I want to thank the man who made this possible,
Who helped to state my self-worth
On God’s good earth
A small enough feather
And in dead calm weather
It stands out like a sore thumb in my blind mouse eye.
Over the Transom
If a fly can climb so well
Then why in the hell
Can’t I fly?
I used to climb
pretty good.
Understood?
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