Red Mosquito

tragabigzanda wrote:

Jorge wrote:I think being weird about feet also includes being all "ewww, feet!!!". Whatever. They're a body part. They can be gross or not gross. I don't want some dude's smelly feet in my vecinity, but I'm also not going to make my girlfriend keep her socks on in bed. Just please be normal

surprisingly retrograde take by the normally chill jorge

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.

tragabigzanda wrote:

Jorge wrote:

tragabigzanda wrote:

Jorge wrote:I think being weird about feet also includes being all "ewww, feet!!!". Whatever. They're a body part. They can be gross or not gross. I don't want some dude's smelly feet in my vecinity, but I'm also not going to make my girlfriend keep her socks on in bed. Just please be normal

surprisingly retrograde take by the normally chill jorge

You go barefoot and put your feet up on the seat during air travel which makes you a monster

??? I have never

tree_ wrote:feet basically always have actual poop on them. do not i repeat do not put them in your mouth no matter how stupid and horny you are

96583UP wrote:

tragabigzanda wrote:

Jorge wrote:

tragabigzanda wrote:

Jorge wrote:I think being weird about feet also includes being all "ewww, feet!!!". Whatever. They're a body part. They can be gross or not gross. I don't want some dude's smelly feet in my vecinity, but I'm also not going to make my girlfriend keep her socks on in bed. Just please be normal

surprisingly retrograde take by the normally chill jorge

You go barefoot and put your feet up on the seat during air travel which makes you a monster

??? I have never

christ that should merit Air Marshall intervention

spike wrote:

96583UP wrote:

tragabigzanda wrote:

Jorge wrote:

tragabigzanda wrote:

Jorge wrote:I think being weird about feet also includes being all "ewww, feet!!!". Whatever. They're a body part. They can be gross or not gross. I don't want some dude's smelly feet in my vecinity, but I'm also not going to make my girlfriend keep her socks on in bed. Just please be normal

surprisingly retrograde take by the normally chill jorge

You go barefoot and put your feet up on the seat during air travel which makes you a monster

??? I have never

christ that should merit Air Marshall intervention

I’ve seen this a few times. It’s horrifying, and I’m not normally weird about feet.

doug rr wrote:

spike wrote:

96583UP wrote:

tragabigzanda wrote:

Jorge wrote:

tragabigzanda wrote:

Jorge wrote:I think being weird about feet also includes being all "ewww, feet!!!". Whatever. They're a body part. They can be gross or not gross. I don't want some dude's smelly feet in my vecinity, but I'm also not going to make my girlfriend keep her socks on in bed. Just please be normal

surprisingly retrograde take by the normally chill jorge

You go barefoot and put your feet up on the seat during air travel which makes you a monster

??? I have never

christ that should merit Air Marshall intervention

I’ve seen this a few times. It’s horrifying, and I’m not normally weird about feet.

whats even worse is when you see that person walk to the airplane bathroom barefoot

dad wrote:lately, i've had moments where i thought about something i wanted or needed to do, maybe it's to check something on my phone, i don't know. in less than a minute of thinking of doing whatever thing i completely blank on what that thing was. it's happening all too often, and it's making me feel insane.

wease wrote:

dad wrote:lately, i've had moments where i thought about something i wanted or needed to do, maybe it's to check something on my phone, i don't know. in less than a minute of thinking of doing whatever thing i completely blank on what that thing was. it's happening all too often, and it's making me feel insane.

This happens to me all the time. And with the history of dementia in my family, it worries me a bit.

dad wrote:

wease wrote:

dad wrote:lately, i've had moments where i thought about something i wanted or needed to do, maybe it's to check something on my phone, i don't know. in less than a minute of thinking of doing whatever thing i completely blank on what that thing was. it's happening all too often, and it's making me feel insane.

This happens to me all the time. And with the history of dementia in my family, it worries me a bit.

shit, wease. what do we do?

96583UP wrote:when that happens, just whack off

your mental clarity will be restored right after

and you’ll remember that the thing you were going to do is

whack off

dad wrote:

96583UP wrote:when that happens, just whack off

your mental clarity will be restored right after

and you’ll remember that the thing you were going to do is

whack off

you tend to have really good ideas, which is likely from an abundance of mental clarity, which is likely from lots of whacking off.

i think i'll try your suggestion.

96583UP wrote:

dad wrote:

96583UP wrote:when that happens, just whack off

your mental clarity will be restored right after

and you’ll remember that the thing you were going to do is

whack off

you tend to have really good ideas, which is likely from an abundance of mental clarity, which is likely from lots of whacking off.

i think i'll try your suggestion.

8=====D — — —- 0-:

dad wrote:

96583UP wrote:

dad wrote:

96583UP wrote:when that happens, just whack off

your mental clarity will be restored right after

and you’ll remember that the thing you were going to do is

whack off

you tend to have really good ideas, which is likely from an abundance of mental clarity, which is likely from lots of whacking off.

i think i'll try your suggestion.

8=====D — — —- 0-: