Red Mosquito

daft twat wrote:

verb_to_trust wrote:Twat kind of looking like John Feldmann in that pic!

Yeah, the hairline noticeably receded this year. I’m not thrilled about it. I spend a lot of time wondering if Hims or Keeps works. I don’t mind being old and gray, but going bald now seems dumb.

daft twat wrote:Finished year 22 of teaching today and the reigning all-around Olympic gymnastics champion stopped in to chat. She makes me look much taller than 5’9”.

Mickey wrote:That explains a lot

wease wrote:

daft twat wrote:Finished year 22 of teaching today and the reigning all-around Olympic gymnastics champion stopped in to chat. She makes me look much taller than 5’9”.

Holy shit twat! You guys look fantastic!

Love the shirt, too

VinylGuy wrote:

wease wrote:

daft twat wrote:Finished year 22 of teaching today and the reigning all-around Olympic gymnastics champion stopped in to chat. She makes me look much taller than 5’9”.

Holy shit twat! You guys look fantastic!

Love the shirt, too

damn she is something else!

DT is one hot motherfuckin too

Jorge wrote:

Mickey wrote:That explains a lot

You mean because of my highly developed intellectual, emotional, personal and social skills?

doug rr wrote:you look like a younger rick neuheisel...

daft twat wrote:Finished year 22 of teaching today and the reigning all-around Olympic gymnastics champion stopped in to chat. She makes me look much taller than 5’9”.

Rangi Guy wrote:

daft twat wrote:Finished year 22 of teaching today and the reigning all-around Olympic gymnastics champion stopped in to chat. She makes me look much taller than 5’9”.

I'm sorry, but as good looking a man as you are - you're always going to be Karl Pilkington to me

daft twat wrote:Finished year 22 of teaching today and the reigning all-around Olympic gymnastics champion stopped in to chat. She makes me look much taller than 5’9”.

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.