Red Mosquito

Bammer wrote:People are calling homecoming dances “hoco” now

Bammer wrote:People are calling homecoming dances “hoco” now

Bammer wrote:People are calling homecoming dances “hoco” now

Chris_H_2 wrote:

Bammer wrote:People are calling homecoming dances “hoco” now

i hate to break it to you bammer, but kids have been calling it that for the past 15 or so years. it started by them all asking each other to the dance via posters. they shortened the word to save room.

now go yell at a cloud.

spike wrote:

Chris_H_2 wrote:

Bammer wrote:People are calling homecoming dances “hoco” now

i hate to break it to you bammer, but kids have been calling it that for the past 15 or so years. it started by them all asking each other to the dance via posters. they shortened the word to save room.

now go yell at a cloud.

How many clouds have you yelled at today, friend?

Strat wrote:Fucking youtube now not allowing Adblocker!

Ads ads ads ads everywhere! Or you can subscribe to youtube premium! But hey i already have youtubetv you mean i gotta susbcribe to youtube premium for this bullshit?!

Bammer wrote:Ruddo being proud of living in the area where “hoco” originated

E.H. Ruddock wrote:

Bammer wrote:Ruddo being proud of living in the area where “hoco” originated

I don't think this is where it originated, just surprised that it takes that long for trends to get to the PNW.

Higgs wrote:I hate when I go to wash my hands at someones kitchen sink and there's no actual hand soap so I have to use a tiny bit of dishwashing liquid instead.

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.