Red Mosquito

Alex wrote:

tragabigzanda wrote:Just aging

from one aging guy to another: aging sucks!

Strat wrote:

Alex wrote:

tragabigzanda wrote:Just aging

from one aging guy to another: aging sucks!

Not everyone is lucky enough to experience the magic of aging. #grateful #blessed

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.

smileinmytree wrote:Unnecessary lane changing on the freeway.

E.H. Ruddock wrote:

smileinmytree wrote:Unnecessary lane changing on the freeway.

I never understand when I pass someone, then get back into the right lane. Then come to a red light, see them in the review, and they get over into the left lane to be even with me. I just passed you, what do you think will happen when the light turns green?

tommy wrote:

E.H. Ruddock wrote:

smileinmytree wrote:Unnecessary lane changing on the freeway.

I never understand when I pass someone, then get back into the right lane. Then come to a red light, see them in the review, and they get over into the left lane to be even with me. I just passed you, what do you think will happen when the light turns green?

Your mistake is assuming people are thinking about their actions while driving

Alex wrote:

tommy wrote:

E.H. Ruddock wrote:

smileinmytree wrote:Unnecessary lane changing on the freeway.

I never understand when I pass someone, then get back into the right lane. Then come to a red light, see them in the review, and they get over into the left lane to be even with me. I just passed you, what do you think will happen when the light turns green?

Your mistake is assuming people are thinking about their actions while driving

A conscientious driver is a precious jewel.

washing machine wrote:A driver in front of me in the express lane tried to change lanes yesterday...right into the wall. He was able to limp into a shoulder area on three tires. I slowed and made eye contact with him to make sure he was okay, and he was. Just a bizarre incident all around. I would have surely crashed into him if I'd been tailgating.

smileinmytree wrote:

washing machine wrote:A driver in front of me in the express lane tried to change lanes yesterday...right into the wall. He was able to limp into a shoulder area on three tires. I slowed and made eye contact with him to make sure he was okay, and he was. Just a bizarre incident all around. I would have surely crashed into him if I'd been tailgating.

I had a similar incident a while back. Some doofus thought he was going to race me on the freeway onramp and started revving when we were both at the stoplight, I of course, drove normally and proceeded at a lawful speed, and he was a jackass and lost control of his car, spun out, and smashed into the guard rail on the side. He was fine. Just stupid.

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.

washing machine wrote:

smileinmytree wrote:

washing machine wrote:A driver in front of me in the express lane tried to change lanes yesterday...right into the wall. He was able to limp into a shoulder area on three tires. I slowed and made eye contact with him to make sure he was okay, and he was. Just a bizarre incident all around. I would have surely crashed into him if I'd been tailgating.

I had a similar incident a while back. Some doofus thought he was going to race me on the freeway onramp and started revving when we were both at the stoplight, I of course, drove normally and proceeded at a lawful speed, and he was a jackass and lost control of his car, spun out, and smashed into the guard rail on the side. He was fine. Just stupid.

Sensing a trend of you inviting an unfair share of stoplight competition. Does your car have a spoiler on the back or something?

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.

tree_ wrote:I strongly dislike the term "took" his own life. It's not like he took it and put it somewhere else. It's gone. He "ended" his life. "Destroyed", "terminated" it. Any synonym would suffice.