pope

'At a boy, Sparky!

Written on the Berlin Wall: Eine Frau ohne einen Mann ist genau wie ein Fisch ohne ein Fahrrad.

Dat funny. Charlie told my buddy Tommy that when you guys first hiked up to the wall and heard us trading commands (and nasty talk) auf Deutch, he asked you whether the guys up there were really from Deutschland (knowing that you are familiar with the language). Accorindg to Charlie, you listened a minute and then said, "Yeah, I think they're for real." Ihr Gesicht riecht auch wie Fisch.

That ain't the way I heard it. You can rob Al of the Presidency, but you can't erase his mountaineering feats. GW is buff? I heard he can curl five gallons of corn mash.

Strangely enough, I had a similar dream, only Pete Puget was chasing me around the breakfast table in a lycra unitard, with a box of Fruit Loops and a big ol' Bosch Bulldog (with a pulsating "marital aid" where one would expect to see a carbide drill bit)!

Oh, I'm sorry. Yes, such attempts at humor CAN be funny....when the punchline is something other that just a jab at somebody's effort to adapt to a new language. There is a difference between a cute ethnic joke and what we have here. What's so damn funny? What's the difference between what we're reading here and, say, a joke about the color of somebody's skin, the shape of his eyes, or the size of his lips? But I suppose that if it doesn't bother YOU then that makes it OK to post on a public forum. Whatever. I'm personally not offended, just embarassed for you. If you were to speak that way in front of one of my Asian friends, I'd apologize for you. If you were to speak that way in front of my Chinese nieces, it would require enormous restraint on my part not to beat your eyes shut.

I also mostly shoot slides. I've had Dwayner scan a few and they looked pretty nice. You can see a few pop up on the home page now and then (Leavenworth area photos by Eric Mohler and Scotty Hopkins); they're certainly good enough for posting/e-mailing to your buddies or whatever. I would bet Kinkos has a slide scanner if you wanted to experiment.

And you, my friend, are neither clever nor funny. You're an offensive little fuck. I thought I'd inform you before you go through the effort of creating additional characters based on some other racist stereotype.

Gentlemen, I'm simultaneously impressed, inspired and horrified! What possessed you two to climb that bitch-kitty of a hill in those conditions? Since you did make it out in one piece, I will spare you the responsibility lecture and congratulate you both on your manly adventure. BTW, anybody bring a digital camera? 'Twould be nice to see some snaps posted. I'm heading down to the U.W. rock this afternoon in case you've got some printed photos you'd like to share ('bout 1 or 2 pm).

DFA is a prophet, and I suggest y'all listen.

I generally encourage breast feeding....but SAVE SOME FOR THE BABY!

Yawn. I'm fighting the urge to take a nap and you're not helping. I found a more exciting place to chat

And he was nothing like the party you voted into office: Jack liked trees, and he liked black folk.

By reminding you that the Whitakers were in bed with the Kennedy family. Big Lou and RMI remind us the Kennedy era, when the liberals were in power and America was king. Big Lou and brother Jim remind us of the pioneering spirit of the generation that put us on the Moon. When Al Gore came out to climb the big "R", do you think he requested the guiding service of some small-fry, independent, dope-smokin' pretender? He did not. And I would not. No, RMI and Big Lou should run that show per se. And when our booze-hound President comes out to the PNW, maybe one of you gun-totin' rednecks can strap him onto his stinky trail bike and haul him to the summit of Rainier ('cause he ain't walking).

And you made short work of that desire, didn't you?

The true reason Dwayner disappeared for two weeks:

Anybody know whether/if/when there will be a new one published?

For a great Zappa site click:FZ lives here

I got a Lexus......and a BLUMPY!

After a few weeks on the bus, being porked by Toad-O's road crew, and being too exhausted to do their laundry on a regular basis, MARY is dumped in Miami. With no money (and no other famous rock groups due into the area for at least three weeks), she tries to pick up a few bucks by entering the Wet T-shirt contest at The Brasserie... Ike: Looks to me like something funny Is going on around here People laughin' 'n' dancin' 'n' payin' Entirely too much for their beer And they all think they are Clean outa-site And they're ready to party 'Cause the sign outside says it's WET T-SHIRT NITE 'N' they all crave some Hot delight Well the girls are excited Because in a minute They're gonna get wet 'N' the boys are delighted Because all the titties Will get 'em upset 'N' they all think they are Reety-awright 'N' they're ready to boogie 'Cause the sign outside says it's WET T-SHIRT NITE 'N' they all crave some Pink delight When the water gets on 'em Their ninnies get rigid 'N' look pretty bold It's a common reaction That makes an attraction Whenever it's cold 'N' all of the fellas They wish they could bite On the cute little nuggets The local girls are showin' off tonite You know I think it serves 'em right You know I think it serves 'em right You know I think it serves 'em right You know I think it serves 'em right And it's WET T-SHIRT TIME AGAIN I know you want someone to show you some tit! BIG ONES! WET ONES! BIG WET ONES! At this point, FATHER RILEY (who had been recently de-frocked for not meeting his quota, and has grown his hair out and bought a groovy sport coat and moved to Miami and changed his name to BUDDY JONES) steps onto the crowded bandstand in his exciting new role as a WET T-SHIRT CONTEST EMCEE... Buddy Jones: Ah, thanks, IKE... Yes, it's WET T-shirt TIME AGAIN Here at the Brasserie... Home of THE TITS...huh huh... And it's the charming Mary from Canoga Park Up next in her bid for the semi-finals... Hi, Mary...howya doin'? Having been fucked senseless by the boys in the crew, MARY does not recognize the former religious personage from her nights in the rectory basement during which she acquired her basic manual skills...confounded by his sport coat, she replies... Mary: Hi! Realizing that she no longer recognizes him...or even appreciates the patient religious training he had given her in the past, BUDDY JONES, like a true WET T-SHIRT EMCEE type person, proceeds to say various stupid things to waste time, making the contest itself take longer, thereby giving the mongoloids squatting on the dance floor an opportunity to buy more exciting beverages...liquid products that will expand their consciousnesses to the point whereby they might more fully enjoy the ambiance of Miami By Night... Buddy Jones: Where ya from? Mary: Ah, the bus... Buddy Jones: Which one? Mary: You know...the last tour... You know...Leather Buddy Jones: Oh...you were the girl stuck to seat 38 Phydeaux III... why don't you get in position and take a deep breath, because this water is very, very cold, but it's goin' to be so stimulating. And Mary's the kind of Red- Blooded American Girl who'll do anything... Mary: Anything... Buddy Jones: I said anything...for fifty bucks That's right! Mary: I really need the fifty bucks you know I gotta get home! Buddy Jones: Yeh, I know, your father is waiting for you in the tool shed...that's right, you heard right...our big prize tonite is fifty American Dollars to the girl with the most exciting mammalian protuberances... Mary: Here I am! Buddy Jones: ...as viewed through a thoroughly soaked, stupid looking white sort of male person's conservative kind of middle-of-the-road COTTON UNDERGARMENT! Whoopee! And here comes THE WATER! Mary: EEEK! Buddy Jones: No, you'd squeak more if the water got on you...sounds like you just got an ice pick in the forehead...AND HERE COMES THE ICE PICK IN THE FOREHEAD ...a million laughs, Mary! Anyway; good golly, what a mess...she's totally soaked...yeh, totally committed to the fifty bucks...That's it just step into the spotlight...let the guys get a good look at ya honey! Mary: Here I am! Buddy Jones: Whaddya say, fellas? Nice setta jugs? Now Mary, how's about shakin' it around a little... Mary: Ooooh! Buddy Jones: Oh my goodness, look at her go! Mary: Oooh! I'm dancing! I'm dancing! Buddy Jones: Ain't this what living is really all about! Here's your fifty bucks Mary... Mary: Oh great! Now I can go home! Buddy Jones: Home is where the heart is. Mary: On the bus.

But wait! Let's not forget the Reason for the Season: happy birthday, Jesus. OK, kids, now you can open up all of your crap.

Nice photos, fellars! My only experience on the route was a pleasant one. The ice was so phat that we started with two pitches on the East Face. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. I can still hear it. Then we climbed onto the butt and found so much ice below the step that I chopped out a platform and got three excellent screws for the belay. The step was easy, but above was just sugar snow with no real belay anchors to be found. That really sucked because I had two guys following the pitch!

I don't think the Repubs want their leadership to be openly racist, or even to be perceived as such. They can't afford it. Too many of us assume the party is chock-full of such good ol' white boys. If George W had himself said the same words (and I wouldn't put it past our clumsy leader), I think he'd have to relinquish his position. Having said that, all of the amateurish political analyses on this site make it more boring than it already is. I log on to read entertaining TR's full of lies about bold adventures, about wild women creating intrigue around camp, about tits and farts and beer, about.......about just about anything except the same old crap from three cc.com rednecks who assume everybody cares about their stance on gun control and their contempt for liberals. Yawn.

'Bout the only culture I've seen at the sport cliffs would be the science projects growing in the furry armpits of some of the more liberal belay bunnies. Allison, you don't need to take it personally. I'm not attacking anybody, just having a little fun. And I'm not poking fun at you, just your people. BTW, you weren't planning on getting a Bedazzler for you-know-who, were you?

Take that, dick head.