Red Mosquito

E.H. Ruddock wrote:

Bammer wrote:

BurtReynolds wrote:

dimejinky99 wrote:I got burt to stfu for about 12 hours now.

I reckon that deserves a beer.

What did you do to shut me up? I must have missed it.

The mods have tried to shut me up before. It has never worked.

Not everything is about you bammer. Read the room

BurtReynolds wrote:He seems genuinely surprised by the fact that Americans may get on the internet at roughly the same time every day. He seems to think there is some conspiracy involved that doesn't include the rising sun or time zones. I'm not sure he even understands what a time zone is.

VinylGuy wrote:Luckily, we are going to be a part of a huge march in defense of gay rights tomorrow so no.

Just in spirit.

VinylGuy wrote:

VinylGuy wrote:Luckily, we are going to be a part of a huge march in defense of gay rights tomorrow so no.

Just in spirit.

This was great. Massive march, great spirits all around.

Awesome day.

VinylGuy wrote:

VinylGuy wrote:Luckily, we are going to be a part of a huge march in defense of gay rights tomorrow so no.

Just in spirit.

This was great. Massive march, great spirits all around.

Awesome day.

spike wrote:Day one of worst Victorian heatwave in a decade.

dimejinky99 wrote:

spike wrote:Day one of worst Victorian heatwave in a decade.

Victorian? She died in January 1901 Spike. She’s not responsible for your heatwave.
Died in January actually. Maybe she is responsible.


*for putting all you cunts there in the first place*

spike wrote:

dimejinky99 wrote:

spike wrote:Day one of worst Victorian heatwave in a decade.

Victorian? She died in January 1901 Spike. She’s not responsible for your heatwave.
Died in January actually. Maybe she is responsible.


*for putting all you cunts there in the first place*

Most of these cunts have Irish heritage.

spike wrote:may have to go back for an emu egg to cook up

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.

tragabigzanda wrote:Early breakfast. Killer ski day. Matcha latte and peanut M&Ms. Chill tonight, with an early bedtime. Tomorrow we ride.

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.

Ello Sailor wrote:Peanut M&Ms are amazing.