That’s baller as fuckbodysnatcher wrote:my bro got a comically large sombrero at DisneyWorld as a kid, and ended up wearing it everywhere through junior high. he even played golf tournaments wearing it.
Hats. This is our first thread about hats.
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Re: Hats. This is our first thread about hats.
Let me tell you, Homer Simpson is cock of nothing!
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Re: Hats. This is our first thread about hats.
even funnier when you know how small and skinny he was in junior highwease wrote:That’s baller as fuckbodysnatcher wrote:my bro got a comically large sombrero at DisneyWorld as a kid, and ended up wearing it everywhere through junior high. he even played golf tournaments wearing it.
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Re: Hats. This is our first thread about hats.
Jesus Christ you guys I’m sorry I don’t know what happened there.
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Re: Hats. This is our first thread about hats.
Carl Sandburg wrote: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.
Last edited by tragabigzanda on Tue January 13, 2026 10:11 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Hats. This is our first thread about hats.
Nice. My great-grandad wore those all thru the summer. Along with flannel long sleeves with his overalls.tragabigzanda wrote:Got a flat brim/flat crown straw summer hat today.
Let me tell you, Homer Simpson is cock of nothing!
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Re: Hats. This is our first thread about hats.
Carl Sandburg wrote: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.
Last edited by tragabigzanda on Tue January 13, 2026 10:11 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Hats. This is our first thread about hats.
I spent a lot of summers working the farm with him. One of the best men I’ve ever known.tragabigzanda wrote:That’s more or less what I’m going forwease wrote:Nice. My great-grandad wore those all thru the summer. Along with flannel long sleeves with his overalls.tragabigzanda wrote:Got a flat brim/flat crown straw summer hat today.
Let me tell you, Homer Simpson is cock of nothing!
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Re: Hats. This is our first thread about hats.
Carl Sandburg wrote: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.
Last edited by tragabigzanda on Tue January 13, 2026 10:10 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Hats. This is our first thread about hats.
Just keep going. You’ll be in the running.tragabigzanda wrote:That’s more or less what I’m going forwease wrote:I spent a lot of summers working the farm with him. One of the best men I’ve ever known.tragabigzanda wrote:That’s more or less what I’m going forwease wrote:Nice. My great-grandad wore those all thru the summer. Along with flannel long sleeves with his overalls.tragabigzanda wrote:Got a flat brim/flat crown straw summer hat today.
Let me tell you, Homer Simpson is cock of nothing!
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Re: Hats. This is our first thread about hats.
I never did find this in my sizeBammer wrote:The Mariners moved to their current teal color scheme and compass logo which I fucking hate in the mid ‘90s. I have yet to purchase a single clothing item featuring it. I only buy retro stuff.
But this hat for some reason speaks to me and I’m getting it.
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Re: Hats. This is our first thread about hats.
I have a pretty big collection of Cincinnati Reds hats, but I don’t wear them that often. It’s mostly a compulsive collecting habit
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Re: Hats. This is our first thread about hats.
My kids’ little league uses MLB team names/logos.
So I ordered a 59fifty on Amazon. It said it would be a wool hat. The hat that arrived is polyester. I went to return it online but they ended up refunding me and not requiring me to send it back. So I got a free hat.
So I ordered a 59fifty on Amazon. It said it would be a wool hat. The hat that arrived is polyester. I went to return it online but they ended up refunding me and not requiring me to send it back. So I got a free hat.
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Re: Hats. This is our first thread about hats.
I’ll be wearing this free hat at Hooters 6am Sunday btw.
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Re: Hats. This is our first thread about hats.
my 70s-era lowercase-a Atlanta Braves cap is my prized possession. i rock that bad larry on my dime when i’m feeling frisky.
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