Red Mosquito

spike wrote:

doug rr wrote:

spike wrote:lenny stuffed his three months of clothes into her carryon last night

which is 3 pairs of dockers and 4 under armour polos..

spike wrote:

doug rr wrote:

spike wrote:lenny stuffed his three months of clothes into her carryon last night

which is 3 pairs of dockers and 4 under armour polos..

Bammer wrote:She barely made her flight this morning.

E.H. Ruddock wrote:

Bammer wrote:She barely made her flight this morning.

Lesson learned, i see

spike wrote:

Bammer wrote:

spike wrote:

Chris_H_2 wrote:none of this is normal

I can’t believe he left her behind. What a bastard.

It was absolutely the right call. Her call.

I’m guessing it was all financial. Pay the diff between one ticket as opposed to multiples. Any rebook fees too, but those are going away.

You thinking she’ll learn a valuable lesson is just a silver lining, one that won’t happen btw lol.

Bammer wrote:

spike wrote:

Bammer wrote:

spike wrote:

Chris_H_2 wrote:none of this is normal

I can’t believe he left her behind. What a bastard.

It was absolutely the right call. Her call.

I’m guessing it was all financial. Pay the diff between one ticket as opposed to multiples. Any rebook fees too, but those are going away.

You thinking she’ll learn a valuable lesson is just a silver lining, one that won’t happen btw lol.

To my surprise not a penny exchanged hands and she was actually put on a different airline.

Anyway the security line was 2+ hours. Fkn crazy man, never used to be that way at Seatac.

3 hours early from now on, or it’s an artificial ploy to sell more Clear / TSA Pre-check memberships. I only fly a few times a year so didn’t really think this is worth it but now I’m not so sure.

Chris_H_2 wrote:

Bammer wrote:

spike wrote:

Bammer wrote:

spike wrote:

Chris_H_2 wrote:none of this is normal

I can’t believe he left her behind. What a bastard.

It was absolutely the right call. Her call.

I’m guessing it was all financial. Pay the diff between one ticket as opposed to multiples. Any rebook fees too, but those are going away.

You thinking she’ll learn a valuable lesson is just a silver lining, one that won’t happen btw lol.

To my surprise not a penny exchanged hands and she was actually put on a different airline.

Anyway the security line was 2+ hours. Fkn crazy man, never used to be that way at Seatac.

3 hours early from now on, or it’s an artificial ploy to sell more Clear / TSA Pre-check memberships. I only fly a few times a year so didn’t really think this is worth it but now I’m not so sure.

have you fallen on hard times? it's $75 for three years.

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.

tragabigzanda wrote:Turns out bammer isn’t as great as he thinks he is

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.

spike wrote:Who has time to stand in a security line?

96583UP wrote:doesn't TSA pre-check require an in-person interview? at the airport? who has time for that

96583UP wrote:who has time for that

Chris_H_2 wrote:

96583UP wrote:who has time for that

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