Red Mosquito

Jorge wrote:Love tattoos. Have wanted one for a while. Have no idea what to get. Which tells me that I shouldn't get one until I know what I want instead of trying to force it and just get the woman from Chiquita Banana or something

BurtReynolds wrote:I plan on getting one, but I want a particular artist to do it and she lives in LA so it might be awhile.

E.H. Ruddock wrote:No. That happens everywhere

E.H. Ruddock wrote:No. That happens everywhere

Bammer wrote:

E.H. Ruddock wrote:No. That happens everywhere

I have a very hard time seeing that shit fly in Fenway Park

E.H. Ruddock wrote:

Bammer wrote:

E.H. Ruddock wrote:No. That happens everywhere

I have a very hard time seeing that shit fly in Fenway Park

It does. It’s just that when you complain to the teenage girls taking the picture they kick your ass.

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:

bodysnatcher wrote:When I put directions into Apple Maps

Lol

dad wrote:Apple Maps and the native iOS weather app are both trash.

Bammer wrote:

dad wrote:Apple Maps and the native iOS weather app are both trash.

Whoa whoa whoa.

The map app is great. The weather app doth however sucketh.

epilogue wrote:Bars that do trivia night