Dru

No it wasn't. That was the forecast but the actual temperature has been 3-4C lower than forecast.

http://weatheroffice.ec.gc.ca/data/trendsimages/wkf_temp_metric_e.png its only been+3 to +4c in lillooet, there should still be some ice in higher up or in marble canyon. you fahking clownpunch shellac shlurpin crybabies

Tricky doesn't walk. He staggers.

Shit I didn't make it until Page 3

Who you tryin to get crazy with, ese? Don't you know I'm loco? [b-Real] Put the one on the flame, boiling temper Just toss that ham in the frying pan, like spam Get done when I come and slam Damn, I feel like the Son Of Sam Don't make me wreck shit, hectic Next, get the check Got me going like General Electric And the lights are blinking I'm thinking It's all over when I go out drinking Ohh, makin my mind slow That's why I don't fuck with the big 4-O Bro, I got to maintain Cause a nigga like me is going insane CHORUS: Insane in the membrane (Insane in the brain) Insane in the membrane (Insane in the brain) Insane in the membrane (Crazy insane, got no brain) Insane in the membrane (Insane in the brain) [sen Dog] Do my shit undercover, Now it's time for the blubba blabber, To watch that belly get fatter Fat boy on a diet, don't try it I'll jack yo' ass like a looter in a riot My shit's phat like a sumo, Slammin that ass Leavin yo' face in the grass Cause you know, I don't take a duro lightly Punks just jealous Cause they can't outwrite me Or kick that style, wicked, wild Happy face nigga never seen me smile Rip that mainframe, I'll explain A nigga like me is going insane -CHORUS- Insane in the brain, in the brain (4x) [b-Real] Like Louis Armstrong played the trumpet I'll hit that bong And break ya off somethin Soon I got to get my props Cops come and try To snatch my crops These pigs wanna blow my house down Head underground, to the next town They get mad when they come to raid my pad And I'm out in the nine-deuce Cad Yes, I'm the pirate Pilot of this ship If I get with the ultraviolet dream Hide from the red light beam Now do you believe in the unseen? Look, but don't make your eyes strain A nigga like me is goin insane -CHORUS- Insane in the brain (4x)

"If you don't like my fire, then don't come around, cause I'm gonna burn one dow-ow-own, yes I'm gonna burn one down"

Your rhyme is so suck My internet haiku is Better than all y'alls

Big Bosom Buttes Your chin my nuts.

Climb Mt Rexford And you'll have sex more

Serratus made some shitty packs a few years ago and it lost them customer support. The Ibex and Alpine or whatever the other one was called...they cost the same as a Bora but weren't nearly as good. The older packs were so well made younever need to buy a new one... Basically it goes to show if you scrimp on design you end up sucking.

They don't bar-tack them anymore. Bar-tacked Screamers sucked, but they were only sewn that way in the early to mid 90s.

The vibes from the screamer ripping may be enough to either cause you to let go of the belay, or cause an auto locker like a GriGri to not lock. Not to mention the sudden ripping as your device moves away from you. I think it is silly.

that's 22,950, moustache curler call in any rescues lately?

Fall off Mount Slesse And have time to consider Your death, how messy

"The ancient Egyptians postulated seven souls, Top soul, and the first to leave at the moment of death, is Ren, the Secret Name. This corresponds to my Director, He directs the film of your life from conception to death. The Secret Name is the title of your film. When you die, that's where Ren came in. Second soul, and second one off the sinking ship, is Sekem: Energy, Power, Light The Director gives the orders, Sekem presses the right buttons. Number three is Khu, the Guardian Angel. He, she, or it is third man out . . . depicted as flying away across a full moon, a bird with luminous wings and head of light. Sort of thing you might see on a screen in an Indian restaurant in Panama. The Khu is responsible for the subject and can be injured in his defense- but not permanently, since the first three souls are eternal. They go beck to Heaven for another vessel. The four remaining souls must take their chances with the subject in the Land of the Dead. Number four is Ba, the heart, often treacherous. This is a hawk's body with your face on it, shrunk down to the size of a fist. Many a hero has been brought down, like Samson, by a perfidious Ba. Number five is Ka, the Double, most closely associated with the subject. The Ka, which usually reaches adolescence at the time of bodily death, is the only reliable guide through the Land of the Dead to the western Lands. Number six is Khaibit, the Shadow, Memory, your whole past conditioning from this and other lives. Number seven is Sekhu, the Remains. I first encountered this concept in Norman Mailer's, Ancient Evenings, and saw that it corresponded precisely with my own mythology, developed over a period of many years, since birth in fact. Ren, the Director, the Secret Name, is your life story, your destiny-in one word or one sentence, what was your life about? Nixon: Watergate. Billy the Kid: Quien es? And what is the Ren of the Director? Actors frantically packing in thousands of furnished rooms and theatrical hotels: "Don't bother with all that junk, John. The Director is on stage! And you know what that means in show biz: every man for himself." Sekem corresponds to my Technician: ,Lights. Action. Camera. ' "Look, boss, we don't got enough Sek to fry an elderly woman in a fleabag hotel fire. And yoa want s hurricane?" "Well, Joe, we'll just have to start faking it" "Fucking moguls don't even know what buttons to push or what happens when you push them. Sure; start faking it and leave the details to Joe." Look, from a real disaster you get a pig of Sek: sacrifice, tears, heartbreak, heroism and violent death. Always remember, one case of VD yields more Sek than a cancer ward. And you get the lowest acts of which humans are capable-remember the Italian steward who put on women's clothes and so filched a seat in a lifeboat? "A cur in human shape, certainly he was born and saved to set a new standard by which to judge infamy and shame." With a Sek surplus you can underwrite the next one, but if the first one's a fake you can't underwrite a shithouse. Sekem is second man out: 'No power left in this set" He drinks a bicarbonate of soda and disappears in a belch. Lots of people don't have a Khu these days. No Khu would work for them. Mafioso Don: "Get offa me, Khu crumb! Worka for a living!" Ba, the Heart: that's sex. Always treacherous. Suck all the Sek out of a man. Many Bas, have poison juices. The Ka is about the only soul a man can trust. If you don't make it, he don't make it. But it is very difficult to contact your real Ka. Sekhu is the physical body, and the planet is mostly populated with walking Sekhus, just enough Sek to keep them moving. The Venusian invasion is a takeover of the souls. Ren is degraded by Hollywood down to John Wayne levels. Sekem works for the Company. The Khus are all transparent fakes. The Bas is rotten with AIDS. The Ka is paralyzed. Khaibit sits on yon like a nagging wife. Sekhu is poisoned with radiation and contaminants and cancer. There is intrigue among the souls, and treachery. No worse fate can befall a man than to be surrounded by traitor souls. And what about Mr. Eight-Ball, who has these souls? They don't exist without him, and he gets the dirty end of every stick. Eights of the world, unite! You have nothing to lose but your dirty rotten vampires: A hundred years ago there were rat-killing .dogs known as "Fancies." A man bet on his "Fancy," how many rata he would kill. The rats were confined in a circular arena too high for a rat to jump over. But they formed pyramids, so that the top rats could escape. Sekhu is bottom rat in the pyramid. Like the vital bottom integer in a serial, when that goes, the whole serial universe gone up in smoke. It never existed. Angelic boys who walk on water, sweet inhuman voices from a distant star. The Khu, sweet -bird of night, with luminous wings and a head of light, flies across the full moon . . . a born-again redneck raise's his shotgun. . . . "Stinkin' Khu!" The Egyptians recognized many degrees of immortality. The Ren and the Sekem and the Khu are relatively immortal, but still subject to injury. The other souls who survive physical death are much more precariously situated. Can any soul survive the searing fireball of an atomic blast? If humans and animal souls are seen as electromagnetic force fields, such fields could be totally disrupted by a nuclear explosion. The mummy's 'nightmare: disintegration of souls, and this is precisely the ultrasecret and supersensitive function of the atom bomb: a Soul Killer, to alleviate an escalating soul glut." I know this isn't really lyrics per se but Material built three tracks around the WS Burroughs sample given here. I always play it at Halloween

I haven't read the letters yet but let me guess, is he quibbling over the length or steepness of a reported route (eg "This route, reported as 2,000m high, is actually only 1,760m by the map")

big dumb town Now when the city was in flame you were on the phone Sellin' fire hoses at a premium loan Yeah the bankers all smile but when you pass they frown You're just a little too smart for a big dumb town Now we seen you drivin' down the boulevard You throw that trash but not in your backyard But like Newton and the apple what goes up comes down You're still a little too smart for a big dumb town We'll all applaud when you break on through "He's a genius, boys, but then we always knew..." Yeah, lofty possibilities, you never had a doubt We'd all scream from the bleachers when you'd always strike out But now you're way out in front and you look glory bound You're just a little too smart for a big dumb town Now when the world is over, clocks run outta wind Somebody will scrape through the ruins and find A little picture of you and in a file they found Sayin' just a little too smart for a big dumb town Now you speak so soft but in your heart you're cold In a tower of glass you've got a mountain of gold Yeah you talk real sharp but we'll soon cut you down You're still a little too smart for a big dumb town

Lizard Lady What's a woman going to do But throw away her bread; Her feet are feeling funny As she lies beneath the bed; She reminisces of the pungent Adriatic Sea, And then she crawls and counts her cans And twitches like a flea. What she really likes to do Is sit upon a pew, And make believe that time has stopped And motionless is new; Planes are stranded in the sky And drains are stopping, too, And she alone is laughing under Eyelids full of flu. She scurries hurries worries that The wicked will receive Their candy from a handsome man And coffee from a thief; She gazes at a hourglass and Asks it if it cares, And then she wonders if the lizard Likes his lettuce rare: "Lizard, yes a lizard, little lizard of the sea, Conspicuously alcoholic, flicks his tongue at me! Release me lizard! Licking lizard, blizzard of the bea, Mushed inside a sock you still dare me --- to die Dare me to die --- at home..." "Coating all my lungs with honey, Sticky coating running runny, Feet of lizard fly! And stop and fly and stop and fly And flicker tongue is licking out To find me --- feel me. Hide! Hide from the tongue! The tongue is coming! Cruising! Oozing! Over land and under ashes, In the sunlight, see -- it flashes, Find a fly and eat his eye, But don't believe in me. Don't believe in me. Don't believe in me."

They tell us that We lost our tails Evolving up From little snails I say it’s all Just wind in sails Are we not men? We are devo! We’re pinheads now We are not whole We’re pinheads all Jocko homo Are we not men? D-e-v-o Monkey men all In business suit Teachers and critics All dance the poot Are we not men? We are devo! Are we not men? D-e-v-o God made man But he used the monkey to do it Apes in the plan We’re all here to prove it I can walk like an ape Talk like an ape I can do what a monkey can do God made man But a monkey supplied the glue We must repeat O.k. let’s go!

Black Wings (Tom Waits/K. Brennan) Take an eye for an eye Take a tooth for a tooth Just like they say in the Bible Never leave a trace or forget a face Of any man at the table When the moon is a cold chiseled dagger Sharp enough to draw blood from a stone He rides through your dreams on a coach And horses and the fence posts In the midnight look like bones Well they've stopped trying to hold him With mortar, stone and chain He broke out of every prison Boots mount the staircase The door is flung back open He's not there for he has risen He's not there for he has risen Well he once killed a man with a guitar string He's been seen at the table with kings Well he once saved a baby from drowning There are those who say beneath his coat there are wings Some say they fear him Others admire him Because he steals his promise One look in his eye Everyone denies Ever having met him Ever having met him He can turn himself into a stranger Well they broke a lot of canes on his hide he was born away in a cornfield A fever beats in his head like a drum inside Some say they fear him Others admire him Because he steals his promise One look in his eye Everyone denies Ever having met him Ever having met him

I can't tell the difference between the sickness and a hangover anymore

Isn't this an exact cut and paste of an old Mike Layton post?