Red Mosquito

Strat wrote:

Dev wrote:

Strat wrote:A strat catch up. Been living back home in Minnesota for 5 months now and its been a journey. life is VERY different for me since living in the mountains. Its good. We get to go out and actually do things.

Welcome to Canada. But what does we actually get to go out and do things mean?

Living in a ski town can be isolating in many ways. For the last 16 years i pretty much just skied/hiked/camped. Between that, i vitisted the same 2 coffee shops, same handful of restaurants, heard the same bands/music/musicians, saw the same type of people, yada yada yada.

It was a great run and i had the time of my life, but i missed being able to easily insert myself into a diverse culture of food, music, people, art, and acttivites. Now im closer to family, best of friends, the cabin, the rink, an airport, a million restaurants, museums, bars, comedy clubs, music venues, neighborhood events, etc..etcc..etc..

It's exhausting and a bit much at times, but im way more fulfilled.

And i have a bigger backyard and my puppy is thrilled.

daft twat wrote:

Strat wrote:

Dev wrote:

Strat wrote:A strat catch up. Been living back home in Minnesota for 5 months now and its been a journey. life is VERY different for me since living in the mountains. Its good. We get to go out and actually do things.

Welcome to Canada. But what does we actually get to go out and do things mean?

Living in a ski town can be isolating in many ways. For the last 16 years i pretty much just skied/hiked/camped. Between that, i vitisted the same 2 coffee shops, same handful of restaurants, heard the same bands/music/musicians, saw the same type of people, yada yada yada.

It was a great run and i had the time of my life, but i missed being able to easily insert myself into a diverse culture of food, music, people, art, and acttivites. Now im closer to family, best of friends, the cabin, the rink, an airport, a million restaurants, museums, bars, comedy clubs, music venues, neighborhood events, etc..etcc..etc..

It's exhausting and a bit much at times, but im way more fulfilled.

And i have a bigger backyard and my puppy is thrilled.

What suburb are you living in?

Strat wrote:

daft twat wrote:

Strat wrote:

Dev wrote:

Strat wrote:A strat catch up. Been living back home in Minnesota for 5 months now and its been a journey. life is VERY different for me since living in the mountains. Its good. We get to go out and actually do things.

Welcome to Canada. But what does we actually get to go out and do things mean?

Living in a ski town can be isolating in many ways. For the last 16 years i pretty much just skied/hiked/camped. Between that, i vitisted the same 2 coffee shops, same handful of restaurants, heard the same bands/music/musicians, saw the same type of people, yada yada yada.

It was a great run and i had the time of my life, but i missed being able to easily insert myself into a diverse culture of food, music, people, art, and acttivites. Now im closer to family, best of friends, the cabin, the rink, an airport, a million restaurants, museums, bars, comedy clubs, music venues, neighborhood events, etc..etcc..etc..

It's exhausting and a bit much at times, but im way more fulfilled.

And i have a bigger backyard and my puppy is thrilled.

What suburb are you living in?

St. Paul. Highland park. 7 minutes from the nook! 2 minutes from Centro! 10 minutes from Minnehaha falls!

VinylGuy wrote:So Rangi is a model or what??

Talk about being build ma dude

VinylGuy wrote:So Rangi is a model or what??

Talk about being build ma dude

Rangi Guy wrote:

VinylGuy wrote:So Rangi is a model or what??

Talk about being build ma dude

Maybe a model for an aged care facility, think that's all I'd be good for

dad wrote:

Rangi Guy wrote:

VinylGuy wrote:So Rangi is a model or what??

Talk about being build ma dude

Maybe a model for an aged care facility, think that's all I'd be good for

nonsense. You’re built like a brick shithouse.

own it!

daft twat wrote:

dad wrote:

Rangi Guy wrote:

VinylGuy wrote:So Rangi is a model or what??

Talk about being build ma dude

Maybe a model for an aged care facility, think that's all I'd be good for

nonsense. You’re built like a brick shithouse.

own it!

Yup. My first thought after seeing that picture was, “That guy fucks.”

tree_ wrote:

Happy veterans day weekend, from 20 years ago

Happy Trees wrote:Rangi = shifty villain on Law & Order who gets laid a lot

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.

wease wrote:

Happy Trees wrote:Rangi = shifty villain on Law & Order who gets laid a lot

Villain? Have you not heard his tale of picking up a car to save a bunch of kids? Villain? I say not!!

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.