Red Mosquito

doug rr wrote:I have about 4 really good ones..1 still in boulder and 3 in Vancouver...see them quite often..one in tech, one in finance and the other 2 are/were chefs

Chris_H_2 wrote:

doug rr wrote:I have about 4 really good ones..1 still in boulder and 3 in Vancouver...see them quite often..one in tech, one in finance and the other 2 are/were chefs

translation: doug's friends really like cocaine

dad wrote:

Chris_H_2 wrote:

doug rr wrote:I have about 4 really good ones..1 still in boulder and 3 in Vancouver...see them quite often..one in tech, one in finance and the other 2 are/were chefs

translation: doug's friends really like cocaine

would've been funnier if you said snow (cocaine).

maybe next time.

Chris_H_2 wrote:

doug rr wrote:I have about 4 really good ones..1 still in boulder and 3 in Vancouver...see them quite often..one in tech, one in finance and the other 2 are/were chefs

translation: doug's friends really like cocaine

doug rr wrote:

Chris_H_2 wrote:

doug rr wrote:I have about 4 really good ones..1 still in boulder and 3 in Vancouver...see them quite often..one in tech, one in finance and the other 2 are/were chefs

translation: doug's friends really like cocaine

one used to be long ago..and like me, none of them are parents

spike wrote:

doug rr wrote:

Chris_H_2 wrote:

doug rr wrote:I have about 4 really good ones..1 still in boulder and 3 in Vancouver...see them quite often..one in tech, one in finance and the other 2 are/were chefs

translation: doug's friends really like cocaine

one used to be long ago..and like me, none of them are parents

Because of the cocaine?

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.

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.

Chris_H_2 wrote:

spike wrote:

doug rr wrote:

Chris_H_2 wrote:

doug rr wrote:I have about 4 really good ones..1 still in boulder and 3 in Vancouver...see them quite often..one in tech, one in finance and the other 2 are/were chefs

translation: doug's friends really like cocaine

one used to be long ago..and like me, none of them are parents

Because of the cocaine?

i also know that rooting for shitty football teams can kill sperm count

spike wrote:

Chris_H_2 wrote:

spike wrote:

doug rr wrote:

Chris_H_2 wrote:

doug rr wrote:I have about 4 really good ones..1 still in boulder and 3 in Vancouver...see them quite often..one in tech, one in finance and the other 2 are/were chefs

translation: doug's friends really like cocaine

one used to be long ago..and like me, none of them are parents

Because of the cocaine?

i also know that rooting for shitty football teams can kill sperm count

Ah so your kids are adopted.

bodysnatcher wrote:I have no local friends. All of my friends live an average of 1284 miles away, with the 2 closest being 395 (different places in opposite directions, oddly). If I find the most common spot on a map to be average equidistance to everyone, I’d live in roughly Oklahoma City. Guess I should move.

bodysnatcher wrote:I have no local friends. All of my friends live an average of 1284 miles away, with the 2 closest being 395 (different places in opposite directions, oddly). If I find the most common spot on a map to be average equidistance to everyone, I’d live in roughly Oklahoma City. Guess I should move.

Monkey_Driven wrote:

bodysnatcher wrote:I have no local friends. All of my friends live an average of 1284 miles away, with the 2 closest being 395 (different places in opposite directions, oddly). If I find the most common spot on a map to be average equidistance to everyone, I’d live in roughly Oklahoma City. Guess I should move.

What about your poker friends?

tragabigzanda wrote:I fear the question of their loneliness