Red Mosquito

bodysnatcher wrote:

B wrote:

epilogue wrote:

B wrote:I need to choose between a jr. high cheerleading competition and a high school wrestling tournament.

Which one will have the better snacks?

Wrestling tournament. But the smell may kill my appetite.

It's my wrestler's senior year, so that probably gets the priority.

I know the exact time my cheerleader will be dancing at a local school, but the way wrestling works is that he will be wrestling for something between 2 and 18 minutes over the course of two full days at a school 2 counties over.

I went to my nephew's wrestling tournament last month. He was in the 9yo class, but they had age groups there from like 6 to high school. The entire place smelled like I was inside a teenager's gym bag.

It was the first time I'd ever been to a tournament, and really the first time I'd ever paid attention to wrestling. It was pretty interesting in the end, but was also quite boring since my nephew only wrestled 3 overall matches – for a combined total of about 6 minutes of action – over the course of 3 hours. Plus I had to pay $10 to park, $18 to get in, and then my nephew hosed me out of $10 so he could get some crap-ass nachos.

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.

E.H. Ruddock wrote:

spike wrote:Imagine the flaky crumb apocalypse of fifteen four year olds eating croissants

bodysnatcher wrote:

E.H. Ruddock wrote:

spike wrote:Imagine the flaky crumb apocalypse of fifteen four year olds eating croissants

I’m pictung myself getting angry at a kid who pronounces it “kwa-sant” but then finding out later it was just bc they couldn’t pronounce their r’s

E.H. Ruddock wrote:

bodysnatcher wrote:

E.H. Ruddock wrote:

spike wrote:Imagine the flaky crumb apocalypse of fifteen four year olds eating croissants

I’m pictung myself getting angry at a kid who pronounces it “kwa-sant” but then finding out later it was just bc they couldn’t pronounce their r’s

Idk, spike just had his kid in France. I'm sure there are kids at that party that pronounce it that way.

E.H. Ruddock wrote:Anyone else confused as hell about where doug actually lives now?

doug rr wrote:

E.H. Ruddock wrote:Anyone else confused as hell about where doug actually lives now?

Camano Island as of the last couple years...tomorrow might bring a 16th floor corner unit with a wrap around terrace for the old dog to shit on..2 bed/2 bath ready to move in..

doug rr wrote:also, my wife took a new job with another major studio...they have an office in Seattle..things are moving fast

Rangi Guy wrote:My stepsons are flying up from the South Island tomorrow to go to a friends 21st. Found out last week that the whole family is expected to go. I was told - just for a short while. So then I made plans to go see Dune in the evening with a friend - cleared it all with my wife that the timing was all good. Then she starts asking what time I'll need to be leaving the party etc as it suddenly changed that we were expected to be there most of the day/night and now I'm being looked at like the bad guy cause I have different plans.
I don't even know why we're going to this kids 21st in the first place