Discussion Topic |
|
This thread has been locked |
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Feb 1, 2017 - 06:16pm PT
|
Go, Duke, go!
Big brother looking over Lucrezia's shoulder on her wedding day.
[Click to View YouTube Video] Brought to you by Flame-n-Go.
Excellent series, if a little bloated (!) in its dialog. Again, I'm no critic.
And yes, there is too much sex and violence on TV. But put it on Youtube and nobody gives a dang.
|
|
Bushman
climber
The state of quantum flux
|
|
Posted something I wrote today on the poetry thread, perhaps it's a bit long, perhaps.
|
|
Bushman
climber
The state of quantum flux
|
|
In the meantime...
Happy Birthday Feralfae!
Happy Birthday Feralfae
Belated, I say like farfale
Much earlier I meant to say
But mean the best in my own way
So from Timbuktu to Tipperary
Next time hope I'll be more wary
And promptly say without delay
Happy, Happy Birthday Farelfae
-bushman
|
|
Bushman
climber
The state of quantum flux
|
|
In Memory of Demons, the Mountain Cabin, and I
'Twas to unfurl
To the spiraling world
There something concealed
A thing too unreal
Up a rustic stair
To a place up there
On the mountainside
This memory of old demons and I
On aching knees which did assail
Above the mossy rocky trail
Through icy gullies straddled
And up a wet and snowy saddle
Sheltered by the crags a meadow shone
Where an old cabin stood alone
Wherein I found some shelter
Amongst the old furniture a 'kilter
I started a fire in the stony hearth
With trembling hands and beating heart
As steam rose from my dampened clothes
An old armoire rattled and voices rose
From the lineage of those who'd lived therein
Ancestral faces spoke of when
They amassed such wealth unto their purse
When came to them their family curse
Their mining claim in their defense
Was paltry and of great expense
But as cattle did better and profits came
Expanding they were and without any shame
All the claim jumpers would get their due
The Shoshone and the Mono too
All to heaven were sent by way of the rope
Or to purgatories rocky slope
The voices swirled and did bemoan
Their suffering there to make a home
Rattling on about times of old
The ventures lost and deeds so bold
The Great War that came and went
Off to the trenches the young men were sent
The oldest was married and there remained
In Germany 'till the nazis reigned
The Wehrmacht billeted beneath his roof
While his children joined the Hitler Youth
Misguided by hubris and racial pride
He lived long after his offspring died
From Soviet bullets and Allied bombs
And he lies now in an unmarked tomb
Cursing the land where his spirit roams
So near to eternity but so far from home
So I stayed up and listened to angry ghosts
Like a witness to hell or the heavenly hosts
With a wooden face and a lifeless heart
But n'er could I bring myself to part
With those agonized specters in all their pain
With their killer's instincts where they would remain
Swirling and telling their tales of their past
As those ghosts never rested 'till I slept at last
It all seemed so familiar and struck to the bone
In that old mountain cabin so far from my home
What in most every boy must be stifled and curbed
Was to those folks a trait that I judged as disturbed
So in the morning when I packed up my gear
I set fire to the place and hiked far from there
Over peaks and down canyons to the rivers edge
Where I held up a bundle of burning sage
Then I prayed to the north, to the east, south, and west
And asked of them all that such spirits they'd bless
For those who'd fallen to another man's sword
For the innocents who died without speaking a word
And took out some tokens from the specter's abode
A toy boat made from wood and a newspaper rolled
All secreted from the old armoire
And flung them away to the water afar
As I drove back home on the mountain road
So sure of my past and my future untold
With our own family's morbid ancestral tales
We had our own demons with stories to tell
In an old shed with cobwebs our memories were stored
Behind dirty cracked windows and peeling boards
When I put my hand there to the rusty door
Like a smallish thing, 'twas a shudder, no more
-bushman
02/01/2017
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Feb 1, 2017 - 10:35pm PT
|
Twas a smallish thing, lad, placing that FINE-AS-FROGHAIR tale here as well as in the poetry thread,
but a large gesture of appreciation is called for in response.
Fine work, indeed. Thank you.
|
|
hooblie
climber
from out where the anecdotes roam
|
|
|
|
zBrown
Ice climber
|
|
Just where does one find the comedy thread?
Don't know? Howzsbout the hanging-lynching thread.
Don't thread on me.
-Don Prude Homo
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Feb 3, 2017 - 01:23am PT
|
Hemo the Mag.
From the placid, predictable fifties.
Still in circulation.
How many times did you see this one as a kid?
[Click to View YouTube Video]
Enjoy.
Brought to you by Senor Juan Huaydor.
Second Feature:
[Click to View YouTube Video]
|
|
Bushman
climber
The state of quantum flux
|
|
A Horse is not Borsht
So sad this silly soliloquy
About a girl and a horse
The girl's name was Lilly
It's really such a bad story
Discovered most surreally
Her horse was ill
No cure nor pill
Would help her to
Recover, still
When she had to shoot her poor filly
It was far less than ideally
Although the location was hilly
It was worse for the horse
Her name was Billy
For the girl might've named
Her horse Chantilly
But such was not the case
And regardless of the place
She pointed her gun
To the poor creature's head
Let's skip on the details
For now she is dead
A horse is a horse
Until their demise
And of course being fictional
You must realize
No animal actors were actually harmed
during the making of this poem
The end
-bushman
02/03/2017
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Feb 3, 2017 - 04:45am PT
|
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Feb 3, 2017 - 04:48am PT
|
|
|
zBrown
Ice climber
|
|
Got any Oly on ya?
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Feb 3, 2017 - 10:59am PT
|
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Feb 3, 2017 - 11:43am PT
|
https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2015/01/the-selling-of-the-avocado/385047/
Last few days have been spent tucked up in bed, especially yesterday. I simply could not "get it going." This morning, though, I made my mind up that I would not be lazy since I had errands which would not be put off...rent pay't with MO and overdue trip to the market being critical.
And so I got the camera, donned some wool and synthetic, had coffee at the Cinema, trucked over to the bank, then over to the El Bajio Market, and forgetting that the stores don't give out plastic or paper bags anymore. So when I got to the store, I could only take so much, stuffing the steak into the vest pocket, and the instant cafe into the other pocket, and the five big avocados and the Roma tomatoes in a pair of clear plastic produce bags.
The camera around the neck, I went and came back in about an hour. It took longer because of the cloudburst. The chickens were being cooked in advance of the Super Bowl, and the chickenturner told me that the avocado is their best-selling fruit at this time of year. I happen to love 'em, and took advantage of what is a good price, for a market, anyway.
I had a great time avoiding the downpour, which persisted through the walk home, and really appreciated the warmth and coziness of the room when I got back here. It's really bright and sunny out now.
I'd cooked up some red potatoes and fried 'em with onion and bell pepper, then dumped a bit of store-bought red enchilada sauce over it and simmered it all for three minutes in the microwave. I added tomato, cubed, and two halves of an avocado with mayo and Taquin and it was eminently satisfying after I'd dried out here in the nest.
"Nos encanta el dinero."
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Feb 3, 2017 - 11:59am PT
|
feralfae,
Please get well. I know it's a terrible imposition, having a busted hip, but you can overcome!
Prayers, fairy dust, imprecations launched at fate, all are being used to combat the negatory.
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Feb 3, 2017 - 12:13pm PT
|
|
|
Gnome Ofthe Diabase
climber
Out Of Bed
|
|
Crate dog
Great Dog
Puppy milled
Ruined in many ways
Doesn't know rain or snow
Often won't go
Takes a while
Never a crate or barrel
Spoiled bitch
in every way
won't eat cold or dry
Now it snows so lite
A dusting 2 inches tops
The fool thing
ran out of a toe nail
Last snow-fall
Blood everywhere
This time,
I'm not watching
Shoveling the driveway collar,
She must of eaten
Snow
10:20pm
2:40am -circles 'round
(when, 5:50 @start)
All night up
Both ends
Fun with an
Awsome dog.
I've got 220+- pics to get off the camera. . . But let's see what's random ly up.
NO WAY , sorry dumb luck, locker thinks I put thought into
Rolling the Dice. .. .. .. ..Again
well that's a thinner than expected example 1more is 3
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Feb 3, 2017 - 03:59pm PT
|
|
|
mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
|
|
|
Topic Author's Reply - Feb 3, 2017 - 04:03pm PT
|
|
|
|
SuperTopo on the Web
|
Let us know!