Red Mosquito

doug rr wrote:snow days I know are coming

doug rr wrote:brought us a legit Philly cheese and some onion rings

doug rr wrote:got a 4 month rental SUV this morning..did the same thing last year for the few snow days I know are coming..stopped on the way home and brought us a legit Philly cheese and some onion rings

E.H. Ruddock wrote:glad to hear that pep and trag don’t like the Yellowstone show. I think it’s dumb as hell but a lot of people around here love it

spike wrote:

doug rr wrote:got a 4 month rental SUV this morning..did the same thing last year for the few snow days I know are coming..stopped on the way home and brought us a legit Philly cheese and some onion rings

Hang on, what’s your regular ride and why can’t it handle weak ass PNW snow?

96583UP wrote:i am a homosexual

Ello Sailor wrote:

96583UP wrote:i am a homosexual

Why have you turned your back on español? Far more zest to it.

Coach wrote:First movie will probably be SW Rogue One.

Ello Sailor wrote:

Coach wrote:First movie will probably be SW Rogue One.

Baller move.

Coach wrote:

Ello Sailor wrote:

Coach wrote:First movie will probably be SW Rogue One.

Baller move.

I need to see that Vader scene at the end...

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.