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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Feb 15, 2015 - 12:02pm PT
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It is my sister's eldest granddaughter's 15th birthday today and I am the cake maker in the family. But she doesn't want cake, she wants pumpkin pie. So while the pies are in the oven and the weather is frigid outside and stirring up a snow storm; I am reading various threads on this forum and editing photos etc. Found this one of my mom and my dad's youngest brother. The essence of way cool...
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujò de la Playa
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Feb 15, 2015 - 12:04pm PT
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I'm lookin' for (in no particular order):
Fifth Beatle
Fifth Stone
Fifth Estate
Fifth of Jose Cuervo
Fifth Dimension
I already found the Firth of Fifth (it is available on Youtube).
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 15, 2015 - 03:11pm PT
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Gnome,
Now, each of us has his own special gift
And you know this was meant to be true
And if you don’t underestimate me
I won’t underestimate you
EVER AGAIN!
Quite the schmooth trooth, foof's knot snot healthy.
And Gypsy's mom, cooler than that icicle with the pleated skirt & saddles hoes and your uncle with the belt buckle and cuffies.
[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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Feb 15, 2015 - 03:46pm PT
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1 2 3 4 5th Street, address of The North Face Factory Outlet.
Golden Gate Fields Forever.
I've not strict permission from Bonnie to use Bob Kamps' photo.
She is seeking the name of the person who gave it to her.
If you can help with the donor, it will be useful to Yerian and Lynnie in the book on which they are collaborating.
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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Feb 15, 2015 - 07:31pm PT
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I met and climbed with Bob Kamps, when he visited the Gunks '85?
He was good friends with Dick Williams the Octogenarian, wonderkind, of the Gunks
and Bircheff(spelling?)Williams route. does that help?
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujò de la Playa
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Feb 15, 2015 - 08:07pm PT
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"Clyde the Climber's Climber" huh?
Very strange to me that Clyde popped up in this place at this time.
Brujeria no hay duda.
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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Feb 15, 2015 - 11:09pm PT
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try to get some sleep
No dice
follow a hint that
takes me back
some regrets
last
worst
day in the gunks was
not agreeing with B Kamps,
He was
Bob Kamps
the next regrets
did it again
intense talk with Lynn H.
disagree with great and famous climbers
to this day I hold to my opinions
Use the best technology available to further the sport (Kamps anti power drills)
Gyms, plastic, competition of the snowbird sort euro,trashing of American infant sport would eventually dumb it down make it mainstream no longer welcoming those who needed it as they we/me fit in no where else at all
that is what I see has come to pass.
see Bob on the front page tonight,
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 16, 2015 - 05:24am PT
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try to get some sleep
EARLY MORNING THOUGHTS WHILE LISTENING TO THE REFRIGERATOR HUM
As I have woken from a short winter’s nap--it is still winter and my pulmonary disease keeps me from deep sleep besides--I sit up in my bunk-cave and watch my mind clear while I pick at my toenails.
There in the dark’s distance are the neighborhood stars, the Speaker and the Monitor. Way off in another direction, further out, lies the galaxy known, for this minute anyway, as 3:59. It does actually lie, it does not hover as a real star is said to do, for it is always changing and it needs to be reset anyway to match Computer when it rises in a few minutes, accompanied by it’s twin star Scanner.
Having done as much damage to the brittle nails as I can without a file, I get up and think about coffee and how I liked it but now it’s not my cup of tea. It is too acid, a result of aging. As I grow old, many things have changed, but one thing has not, and that is my disdain for an outline when I write. It is now a half-hour later than it was when I awoke, so this is still early morning, but later. The refrigerator hum is gone, overwhelmed by the heater fan’s grumbling.
I find my pace and my tenseness loosens up and my consciousness takes over and I go auto-pilot.
I question the word tenseness. I was not relaxed when I regained consciousness or I would not have been picking at my toenails. This is not a free-writing exercise. I need to cross the eyes and dot the tees, which is not part of the system of free-writing. That is just hell-for-leather stirring the pot. This is more like a poem’s birth.
There are lots of lines between which lie unfathomably many other thoughts. This sedately paced thinking match between consciousness and further consciousness is more akin to poetry than an essay, which is more akin to a legal brief or a debate. The morsels of truth remain in between the thoughts and the lines.
I cannot listen to sung music while doing this. As I stood at the sink preparing my terrible coffee it occurred to me that I seldom listen to anything when I write any longer. It must be that it’s too distracting, though this was the first time I have ever thought of that.
I also was thinking, while waiting for the water to boil, about how stream-of-consciousness works, at least for me. It does not rely on hurried pen strokes of notes. It is better that I think the thought an later on just play it as it lays. I have a memory. I remembered this idea, so I must be on to something. And my written notes are usually illegible to some extent. I am short a thumb but know no shorthand.
Hah! It is only 4:50 and I have made a funny.
Which brings to mind the terrible coffee. It is Eight O’Clock Coffee, a brand which is known as being centrally perked on Friends, the recently retired TV comedy series. It is a nasty brew, but it is having the effect of waking me by virtue of its taste. It is not a relaxing taste, a kick back and enjoy taste. It is a drink me fast, swill me, then go to work. It alters the mind.
I have recently taken to drinking marijuana tea for its soporific effect. I can’t really enjoy smoking reef much at all any longer as these lungs, these pullman-airy porters of oxygen and waste gas, cannot handle the experience without causing havoc...coughing uncontrollably, producing more phlegm than one can imagine, and not really getting all that much from the high. It simply is not worth it any longer.
My pipe collection, mostly all corncobs with one nice briar, sit idled and waiting to be tossed. I am addicted to nicotine, solidly. I realize I cannot go cold turkey on that. I will take one and place it between my jaws and use it as a fix every so often. I’m fighting that urge right now and losing. It’s right there. If it were not, I’d lose it. I would start thinking of that, not what I’m thinking of trying to write.
I have run out of things to write for the moment so I’ll stop and go Google that Thomas guy. Maybe turn on Capradio out of Capital City and listen to some classical music. Maybe there will be something by Mahler, thought they seem to seldom play his work. I recall reading once that he was huge at one time, around the turn of the last century, and fell out of favor, but I can Google that, too.
The time is 5:13 a.m. and the sun will not rise until about 6:45. I pity anyone on a wall now waiting for the sunsight.
One last set of thoughts, then, which recurred to me just now. These were about Scandinavian offense at Polish humor. I'm pleased that the cartoonist chose off the scientist. It's real drama and it was carried out in a suspenseful way, the timing was brilliant on both parts. If it were classical music it would be a combination of Grieg, the Sibelius of the North, and Chopin, the French Pole. In stereotypical fidelity.
Now go out, have a nice day, and express yourselves, children.
[Click to View YouTube Video]
Good morning, Gnome.
How's your coffee, DMT?
Look, up in the sky...it's a bird.
No, maybe a plane.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 16, 2015 - 07:31am PT
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Enjoy your Garuda, big old clymber.
It doesn't take mouthfuls of Niagara
for an old climbing guruda enjoy good stuff.
Sips are more better.
From our correspondent in Chico.
[Click to View YouTube Video]A fruity taste of batso you can have a good day.
Mafakin' songwriters.
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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Feb 16, 2015 - 08:34am PT
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To dream perhaps to slumber only to awake to the rumbles in my head,
rumbles, and the accumulation of Phlegm,
which on rizing, I hack up and spray the monitor with chunks that glow ingreyish misery.
I spent all night up worrying about all of it
where the hell was the wallet?
as it is always empty
I lose track of it
and To follow
the trax I made in the snow
in subzero white out conditions
to find a drivers license that may have expired
Is not worth the frozen toes. ( or the screaming barfies)
[Click to View YouTube Video] I watched this Live It was 3 of 6.at like 4:10 am.
WE agreed , she has hidden my warm boots
under her snoring form,
new to me,Now round with age.
Because those boots fit my front points
that if the wind is still,
the urge and ghosts of Yabo, and Jimmy Jewel
Inspire me to act the fool and go solo moderate but vertical
Ice.
THEY HAVE RUINED COFFEE, the they I speak of is the Industry at Large! Some bright fellow who is not mellow from seattle, found that if you burn the beans at the end of the roasting process they keep for ever. thus changing the monetary model, and if you charge %300 percent more, fools will rush your doors for Joltin' Joe with every thing added to make a sweet tea / milkshake of the venerable cup of coffee.
Have you tried Instant? I know It sound like Sacrilege but across the world Nescafe' rules . not acid or all that bitter, I get life, bitter pill, and then some bitter with my bier. thats all the bitter i can stand.
Kottke? Leo was a pal that kept me sane as I was trying to edit and produce a fair high school literary rag that had to include every one who submitted more than four things. thanks to a transendentak english teacher/ advisor.
The long[Click to View YouTube Video]
the short
[Click to View YouTube Video]
and
the great
[Click to View YouTube Video]
the kids both need to use the box , that is finally fixing We again have Photo shop so I can turn out and spinn them pics my way
see ya some time or have some Cherry Pie mmk
hey there way back some stoned masters were making jokes " a mouse ran under my chair "
I think It was in the 1st stone master installment or it could have been in chapter 5.
http://www.supertopo.com/climbers-forum/145850/Stonemaster-stories
o
http://www.supertopo.com/climbers-forum/161148/StoneMaster-Stories-Part-5-the-epic-continues
What fvck is Vegan Leather,? . . . Roadkill? . . .WTF!!
I git stung to delirium trying to out my sanctuary, now on the side of a hi way
that is the top of Sugar holler'(A historic sugar makin' Hollow, now allbut plowed under) this is the fuzzy trail, marked with yellow blazes,that skirts the very edge of an eastern Cirque.
( 5 yellow blazes incuding the one in the forground ,on the tree,enlarge to see more clearly )
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 16, 2015 - 12:57pm PT
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Caetano Veloso/Let It Bleed
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GOgBvb3JcTU
I had a buddy in freshman year at St. Mary's named Norm Caetano who had a thang about black women, much like Clarence King a century before.
He exclusively dated several (meaning three) black chicks (they were all chicks in sixty-six; wimmin had yet to make their appearance) from the East Bay who all attended Holy Names in Oakland.
St. Mary's had only a token few blacks at the time, if that. There were none in my freshman class, I know.
We boys in "the Zoo" were stranged out by his attitude.
He was from San Diego, brujo.
Nice posters.
Throwpie did a few posters here locally.
I made up several for a concert sponsored by the Students for a Democratic Sorority at Monterey College in '69. Fahey did not play, nor the Stones.
We took local talent and used them to protest Cambodian borders and Nixon's uppity sense of how to lead from the rear.
http://img.golivewire.com/forums/peer-ebbbpob-support-a.html
We sorta gave up on school after that, what with Kent State and Yosemite's fall.
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujò de la Playa
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Feb 16, 2015 - 01:45pm PT
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magia negro or brujeria negra, eh? I guess it comes with the territory.
Another in a series of random methods. Start the video then click the "cc" button. You too will be truly amazed, as was I.
[Click to View YouTube Video]
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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Feb 16, 2015 - 01:55pm PT
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"(they were all chicks in sixty-six; wimmin had yet to make their appearance)"
No, the word "woman" is still sexist as is "person"--it is woperdaughter...:D
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Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
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Feb 16, 2015 - 02:13pm PT
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Too funny almost, right now here an ol' climbing partner who was formost a client with a death wish when we met 20 no thirty years ago has resurfaced.
In a parking lot in a posh town this fella strolls up to me and my kids, with his teenage son,in toe, and says"I know who you are hi" Gnome! , gno me?
I have no idea who this person is, and with my past I fear for what he might say next,
I step up after turning shades of colors and looking left and right for an escape route,
I says oh reelee? Well nice to see you again and extend my hand.
His wife is corporately employed by big sugar water that we as a family do not ever imbibe,
His son and his sons dreads indicate that his mixed up penchant for dark meat has never been saited,but satisfied. He looks well, and as he should being ten or more years younger than I, much still strong and spry. . . A potential belay slave climbing partner out of the 'lets get pizza after dance class' move.
His story winds around and he has a home in Cali and this high tax one here, I am still not clear if there is one in Nebraska?also.
This is Guy Norior, when we met he was suicidal, from bullying and having been getting it on in a car at prom, when some mthreffer, plowed into the back of his sweetheart's car leaving him both fiscally and mentally scared as the poor girl got the vicious end of the unpredictable
(He felt) attack. She remained comatose for a year and never came back.
Thus his therapist recommended that I take him to the woods and cliffs to restore his zest for life. We climbed and camped and I tried to get him laid but he was only interested in paying way up town girls who made me frown.
The drive from Harlem to my gunkzbunk with partying hoes was novel - the dirty road never saw the likes of it and probably never has again! We had some fun but he was batsihtit crazy.
I was trying to be legit.and this sport is so welcoming to buxom girls of color. We eventually had a falling out that I have No memory of ,but he does!
It seems that while I was working taking kids out, he was climbing near by and thought it a good idea to show off to impress me. The way he tells it, sober or buzzed he got all spread eagled out above me to my left sans rope! and me with payed for youngsters that must be supervised, will have to make a quick decision- we all cannot leave fast enough to escape before he falls the fifty feet back to the deck so up I have to go, hip hop across some non climb seventy feet off plumb on a toprope to save his crazy azz.
Such a thing it was, he says, that I was . . . Snapped . . that I broke his nose and sent him packing never to hear from him again.
Thank my lucky stars. I had met Yabo by then who had clocked my inattentive belayer at thE G.P.A. (Under Green Dragon, nawameen?) know what I mean?
And that influence of barley balanced Rock monster that I copied was one of Guys favorite stories to tell when he would see me and as I said he would stay away from me.
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zBrown
Ice climber
Brujò de la Playa
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Feb 16, 2015 - 02:48pm PT
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Whippersnapper, can you go out and {fetch, round up, bring hither, muster, assemble, rally or rodeo} some a dem woperdaughteria?
Clyde 'The glide' Frazier,Clyde Barrow,Clyde The camel.Clyde de l'etang de freville,Clyde Lewis,Clyde W. Tombaugh,and The Clyde Theatre were just a sampling of the assemlblage of Clydes that rumbled through my mmind not more than several hours before the Climbing one appeared.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 16, 2015 - 05:39pm PT
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Berry big sugar water fall Sergeant Clyde. Why the Jakes do you go if you slowly turn?
My big little brother your sister mama jujube and popcorn.
Whirling bird floated by him.
Thirty-five year time line lost overboard.
He save no pee.
Over an icicle in the bank he gonna bye-bye.
Blink the eyes have it upthread.
Mama! Drink the gnome, eat the sprightly coconut.
Crows landing bar.
Motorcycle Clyde barrelista made of mist.
Folly weighs a whomping in boots too.
Spanish weather on the plane.
Boss dice, ship and crew, El Capitan.
Werner, enslave me now I capture your finger, slowly turn to right, drilling for Texas crude.
How does the song go now, Sergeant Clyde?
I still wonder over roiling waters, Mister Bridges.
The rescue went to hell between dusk and Don.
Put the body in a bag...NOW, womperson.
[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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Feb 16, 2015 - 06:46pm PT
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And when he got to the top it was just striking one o'clock.
The mouse that was sunning on top woke up and sang a few licks of his own for Norman.
[Click to View YouTube Video]And then he ran down and resumed his siesta,
despite the rumors old Ma Goose had been spreading.
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