Talk about your day thread

[dad]

watched the last few minutes of usa v. iran, took a twin to soccer practice...too damn cold and windy outside. came home from practice to find a package on the front doorstep. father-in-law sent us some topsy's popcorn for Christmas.

brb, gonna get fat on handfuls of carmel, cheese, and butter popcorn.

[BurtReynolds]

nice.

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[Peeps]

dad,

are they all in the same tin separated by slivers of cardboard?





last night was doing some stuff for work around 9pm and my phone rings. it is my brother. i turn around and he is still in the bathroom. i hesitantly knock on the bathroom door and ask if everything is ok. he hollers back WTF do you want? i explained he called me.


he opens the shower curtain and looks at his phone on the sink and is as bewildered as i am how his phone called me while he was in the shower and not in his hand

[BurtReynolds]

You ever just want to immolate yourself and your entire life? Burn the candle at both ends? Burn up instead of fade away? Live fast and leave a beautiful corpse? Give in to the death drive? Fuck your whole life up?

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[bodysnatcher]

I do this everyday by waking up

[Rangi Guy]

Spent most of yesterday afternoon at the hospital. They kept calling me back in to check my eyes after an episode I had back when the world went into lockdown. I think this was my 4th visit since then - they still can't find anything and are going with 'It was possibly a migrane'

The tests and everything were all done pretty quick, but then it was just sitting in a waiting area for over an hour waiting for the doctor to show up and tell me that everything's good.

[Bi_3]

You ever just want to immolate yourself and your entire life? Burn the candle at both ends? Burn up instead of fade away? Live fast and leave a beautiful corpse? Give in to the death drive? Fuck your whole life up?

This is my favorite Lana song.

[spike]

You ever just want to immolate yourself and your entire life? Burn the candle at both ends? Burn up instead of fade away? Live fast and leave a beautiful corpse? Give in to the death drive? Fuck your whole life up?

yes it's called having kids

[dad]

dad,

are they all in the same tin separated by slivers of cardboard?

yep. sometimes we find rogue pieces of other flavors too.

it's great.

[bodysnatcher]

take the dividers out. create chaos.

[Higgs]

We are off on our caravan adventure and our first stop couldn't be better. Small private caravan park with huge sites, heaps of space, lovely owners and set on the most beautiful grounds with a river meandering through it.

They allow camp fires and for $15 will drop a small fire pit, kindling and wood, paper and fire lighters to you each day. So of course we've had a fire each night.

We've been here 3 nights total, first 2 nights we had this big area to ourselves, but yesterday this solo dude with a car, chair and swag turns up on the powered Site next to us. The sites are huge, so he's still a bit away, and it's a caravan park, so to be expected.

We've had our fire pit sitting a few metres away from our awning since the first night so we don't get too much smoke in the van. So it's not right in front of us but it's clearly ours and in our space. Yesterday the park owner dropped off our firewood while we were out, so this fella has seen that.

Anyway, we get back and start to prep dinner, the wiffey goes and sets the fire up, kindling ready to go, and we decide to go for a stroll to enjoy the last light of the day.

As we are coming back to the van, say 20 minutes later, we see this dude walking around our van as if he's going to go to our awning. I'm like "WTF?" and pick up the pace to see what he's up to.

He walks back out carrying the fire pit, all fully set up with Lisa's fire, and sets it down in front of his chair. I had to confront him and say "Buddy - we paid for that" and he got all apologetic and carried it back down and sat it back on the base thing it comes with, sorta apologetic but not really.

Fucking awkward! I honestly don't know what to make of the whole situation. He spent the rest of the night sitting in his chair in the dark just looking at the fire from 25m away or so.

I have thought about it all night and I can't figure out if it was an honest mistake (the guy doesn't sound all that switched on in the few short conversations I've had with him) or if he's just a prick who usually takes what he wants.

I mean, we were going to come back to the van eventually right? That would have been crazier, getting back to our fire that we paid for and set up, rip roaring 30m away on his site in front of his chair. I guess at that point we would have just said 'fuck it'.

#caravanstories

[Ello Sailor]

Sounds like he might just be a dumb cunt tbh.

[dad]

take the dividers out. create chaos.

plenty of that shit around these parts already.

[Higgs]

Sounds like he might just be a dumb cunt tbh.

This is the conclusion where my musings have generally been heading, yes.

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[Ello Sailor]

I am unreasonably hyped for Higgs' travel blog.

[dad]

i would happily read more caravan camp stories from the higgsman.

[bodysnatcher]

take the dividers out. create chaos.

plenty of that shit around these parts already.

dad: the calm within the storm