Red Mosquito

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.

daft twat wrote:

Jorge wrote:

daft twat wrote:Any Facebook post that begins, “Does anyone know of a reasonably priced…” Go fuck yourself.

Why

Because it’s insulting when it’s about a trade like electrical work or auto repair, and it’s asinine when it’s about a product like a ps5 because the market sets the price. It’s a post that never needs to be made. There is marketplace and eBay and any number of places to hunt for a deal and make comparisons.

And part of it is semantics. I have no problem with people on Nextdoor asking for recommendations based on others’ experiences, but suggesting a professional’s rate isn’t reasonable because your cheap and unskilled ass doesn’t want to pay it is offensive.

E.H. Ruddock wrote:That was late 80's/early 90's, so the safety features on those things probably weren't great back then.

Chris_H_2 wrote:

E.H. Ruddock wrote:That was late 80's/early 90's, so the safety features on those things probably weren't great back then.

correct. rockports feature velcro now.

E.H. Ruddock wrote:

Chris_H_2 wrote:

E.H. Ruddock wrote:That was late 80's/early 90's, so the safety features on those things probably weren't great back then.

correct. rockports feature velcro now.

Tbh it was probably my knock off Air Jordan's that my grandparents got me.

spike wrote:my wife is playing RHCP with her office door open.

E.H. Ruddock wrote:

Chris_H_2 wrote:

E.H. Ruddock wrote:That was late 80's/early 90's, so the safety features on those things probably weren't great back then.

correct. rockports feature velcro now.

Tbh it was probably my knock off Air Jordan's that my grandparents got me.

bodysnatcher wrote:

spike wrote:my wife is playing RHCP with her office door open.

Divorce her

washing machine wrote:

E.H. Ruddock wrote:

Chris_H_2 wrote:

E.H. Ruddock wrote:That was late 80's/early 90's, so the safety features on those things probably weren't great back then.

correct. rockports feature velcro now.

Tbh it was probably my knock off Air Jordan's that my grandparents got me.

Sounds like a reasonably priced pair of sneakers

E.H. Ruddock wrote:with some friends

wease wrote:These fucking webpages for recipes and they have to tell you their life story and how their parents met and their ancestors that fought in WWI and how they may be related to Marcus Aurelius before they ever get to the goddamn ingredients or oven temp or time in the oven.

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.