Red Mosquito

Dev wrote:I never said farewell before.

Felt sus as hell.

dimejinky99 wrote:It would be funny if it were real.
It’s just tragic when you can see the ISP address.

Higgs wrote:

dimejinky99 wrote:It would be funny if it were real.
It’s just tragic when you can see the ISP address.

Can you see the ISP addresses?

Higgs wrote:Dime, simple question here - can you see their ISP addresses or is this just rampant speculation on your part?

Higgs wrote:Ta. Just wondering if my gig was up or not. Carry on.

Higgs wrote:Fair call. "And games that never amount will play themselves out."

spike wrote:something something 96up

Higgs wrote:I couldn't give a shit if you were MAGA or not. I like you. Politics is stupid but kinda interesting in its own twisted way. The Trump circus has a lot to do with that though.

I lean left pretty hard I guess. But I don't own a pitchfork.

Higgs wrote:I couldn't give a shit if you were MAGA or not. I like you. Politics is stupid but kinda interesting in its own twisted way. The Trump circus has a lot to do with that though.

I lean left pretty hard I guess. But I don't own a pitchfork.

tommy wrote:

Higgs wrote:I couldn't give a shit if you were MAGA or not. I like you. Politics is stupid but kinda interesting in its own twisted way. The Trump circus has a lot to do with that though.

I lean left pretty hard I guess. But I don't own a pitchfork.

I have a pitchfork you can borrow

96583UP wrote:

tommy wrote:

Higgs wrote:I couldn't give a shit if you were MAGA or not. I like you. Politics is stupid but kinda interesting in its own twisted way. The Trump circus has a lot to do with that though.

I lean left pretty hard I guess. But I don't own a pitchfork.

I have a pitchfork you can borrow

we need to find Coach

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.