Red Mosquito

Jorge wrote:

lennytheweedwhacker wrote:Cats > dogs.

But also, nah.

Both good animals that deserve to be celebrated. It's just that cat haters are always the most dull-brained people

BurtReynolds wrote:pit bulls aren't dogs. they are mistakes.

Bammer wrote:

Jorge wrote:

lennytheweedwhacker wrote:Cats > dogs.

But also, nah.

Both good animals that deserve to be celebrated. It's just that cat haters are always the most dull-brained people

Hate.

knee tunes wrote:

BurtReynolds wrote:pit bulls aren't dogs. they are mistakes.

That's crazy. Pit bulls are cute and cool

JuanHamm wrote:

Jorge wrote:How often do you come across their work that you've developed an irrational hatred?

I'm not a huge fan but it's not like they're hard to ignore

I don't see them referenced that much anymore, but when I do I lose a lot of respect for the person who likes them.

Higgs wrote:

knee tunes wrote:

BurtReynolds wrote:pit bulls aren't dogs. they are mistakes.

That's crazy. Pit bulls are cute and cool

No they are not. They are indeed abominations.

epilogue wrote:

JuanHamm wrote:

Jorge wrote:How often do you come across their work that you've developed an irrational hatred?

I'm not a huge fan but it's not like they're hard to ignore

I don't see them referenced that much anymore, but when I do I lose a lot of respect for the person who likes them.

spike wrote:

dad wrote:

spike wrote:I had a cat growing up that would lay on my head and lick my face like a dog.

wait a minute...

you let your cat lick your face, likely after licking its own genitals or butthole, yet i'm the gross one for occasionally picking up my dog's dried poop to toss over the fence?

lol at you holding yourself to a child’s hygiene standards/knowledge

dad wrote:

spike wrote:

dad wrote:

spike wrote:I had a cat growing up that would lay on my head and lick my face like a dog.

wait a minute...

you let your cat lick your face, likely after licking its own genitals or butthole, yet i'm the gross one for occasionally picking up my dog's dried poop to toss over the fence?

lol at you holding yourself to a child’s hygiene standards/knowledge

lol at you using that as an excuse for not knowing any better. i'm sure you were young and naive and no adult human ever brought it to your attention.

anything to hold onto high ground.

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.

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.

Higgs wrote:

knee tunes wrote:

BurtReynolds wrote:pit bulls aren't dogs. they are mistakes.

That's crazy. Pit bulls are cute and cool

No they are not. They are indeed abominations.

B wrote:Videos that tell me to "wait for it."

dad wrote:

spike wrote:

dad wrote:

spike wrote:I had a cat growing up that would lay on my head and lick my face like a dog.

wait a minute...

you let your cat lick your face, likely after licking its own genitals or butthole, yet i'm the gross one for occasionally picking up my dog's dried poop to toss over the fence?

lol at you holding yourself to a child’s hygiene standards/knowledge

lol at you using that as an excuse for not knowing any better. i'm sure you were young and naive and no adult human ever brought it to your attention.

anything to hold onto high ground.