Red Mosquito

Peeps wrote:we dont have any crazy things to follow

no wild color schemes.
no taking garbage out before wed at 5 (thursday morning pick up)
clean up any messes you make in common areas (pool, tennis court, basketball court, clubhouse)
no exterior sheds bigger than X size

i do have to fill out a form to get my deck re-done

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.

BurtReynolds wrote:

Peeps wrote:we dont have any crazy things to follow

no wild color schemes.
no taking garbage out before wed at 5 (thursday morning pick up)
clean up any messes you make in common areas (pool, tennis court, basketball court, clubhouse)
no exterior sheds bigger than X size

i do have to fill out a form to get my deck re-done

Many of those are crazy

Chris_H_2 wrote:

spike wrote:

Chris_H_2 wrote:i will never again live a condo association and be beholden to other people's inane gripes and ideas about how i should live. i get enough of that when i see my crazy, trump-thumping relatives over the holidays.

Haha what’d you get busted doing?

having a doormat that said "welcome" in the hallway. no messaging allowed. i'm not kidding.

doug rr wrote:we owned a condo once in marina del rey that had all the amenities you could think of...we never lived there but rented it out..the monthly HOA was just under $1400 a month

spike wrote:

doug rr wrote:we owned a condo once in marina del rey that had all the amenities you could think of...we never lived there but rented it out..the monthly HOA was just under $1400 a month

That kinda monthly is what keeps us out of the high rises downtown. Though it would be nice to have a pool for the kid.

Coach wrote:

Bammer wrote:Coach, the newest one is two inches taller than you? And answered a text with “yeah definitely”?

Bro you are OUT. Move on.

I have, it's up to her if she wants to reach out again.

Coach wrote:

Coach wrote:

Bammer wrote:Coach, the newest one is two inches taller than you? And answered a text with “yeah definitely”?

Bro you are OUT. Move on.

I have, it's up to her if she wants to reach out again.

This has been quite the turnaround with tall girl.

We have date no. 4 on Sunday.

Patience is always key.

tommy wrote:

Coach wrote:

Coach wrote:

Bammer wrote:Coach, the newest one is two inches taller than you? And answered a text with “yeah definitely”?

Bro you are OUT. Move on.

I have, it's up to her if she wants to reach out again.

This has been quite the turnaround with tall girl.

We have date no. 4 on Sunday.

Patience is always key.

Are you guys going to have some tall kids?

lennytheweedwhacker wrote:Goodnight

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.

lennytheweedwhacker wrote:

lennytheweedwhacker wrote:Goodnight

I slept 4 hours this afternoon wtf

tragabigzanda wrote:In the span of three weeks, my four year old has gone from “I can ski off the chairlift” to “I can ski off the chairlift, I’ll be the first one to the bottom, and I’m gonna take a detour through this slalom course and go off some jumps.”

Like, lots kids’ growth is like this, small steps at first then humongous leaps. But this is bordering on freakish.

tragabigzanda wrote:In the span of three weeks, my four year old has gone from “I can ski off the chairlift” to “I can ski off the chairlift, I’ll be the first one to the bottom, and I’m gonna take a detour through this slalom course and go off some jumps.”

Like, lots kids’ growth is like this, small steps at first then humongous leaps. But this is bordering on freakish.

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.