ivan

w/ or w/o nitro?

10/8 - day 57, lap 38 - global warming gabby-gab followed by beacon rock balmy grabby-grab - the wind in the meadow - i wobble out of the lot, head full huge of life, awful hammer-struck by the stupid fucks of am radio - gusts from the graveyard - the regular ramble - the righteous walking up warriors - a pair of lovely lasses on the corner, one speaking w/ a lilting polish croon - would that everyday featured some such easy-on-the-eyes scene - a sealion hard upon the boat-slip, spraying in the golden light when it surged above the water-line to the terror of the terns - tourists on the trail, oblivious to the tumbling orb - a long ride home tortured by shrill tenors of the tendentious sort

10/6 - day 56, lap 37 - indian summer ain't it, emotion enough to rally for winter's greater injury? a week plague-fucked w/ post-work wooly-bullshit, but somehow here it was 420 on monday and i'd good odds at a moon-shot? boomed out to the big bacon, wrestling the moral dilemma at buying more demon-weed. ended up just as you'd suspect, arriving to see the cast of usual suspects. bitches rigging ropes all over the place to pander to the hoi-poilio - rick all set to ramble up so we joined forces, tumblign past jeff t on the slab n' kenny n' arent further up - chuckles n' chest-beats, the week good enough for now

10/3-4 - days 54-5, lap 36 - friday sweet and simple - long day of work from afore the sun awoke - bantering w/ bitter becalmed bitches - blasted out to beacon in the beaming sun at the break of 3 - strong pressure to make back to school night at 5-fucking-30 back in the 'couve - every beatard ever born it seemed teemed about the base as i breezed through w/ my proletariat beer - jim n' sal, steve n' kenny, adam n' the whole world afore us - i solo up to snaggle-toof ledge and suck down smoke and savor the scene, the sun sagging, the company curious fun for a fucked up friday night a fine burn back once i broke the manacles of that mighty bunch - at the railing a few minutes later, i busted a beer through me as i broke big down the trail - jeff fucking thomas shuffling like a harmless hobo through the parking lot, i nearly blew by him till i recognized the cock-sucker in a cincinnati reds hat actually had a proper claim on my consciounes - always alright to argue a position w/ an alderman w/ a grin n' wisdom n' a sly wit - the rest of the night nimbly dispatched - a strange lot, desperate late - peeing in the bushes to the shriek n' call of friday night lights - crusty church-smells n' i can't help but wanna clown around w/ the kids in the back - goign away party an hour later w/ a parcel of people off to live in a parsonage - grown up butts n' banter on the pavement - passed out big time on the couch by 11 saturday right up to rage at the righteous hour - the powderhound package - a pabst by camas and a camel too and the miserly remains of mr magoo - hangovers in the house of the horse-lords, hosing it out the hinter-side to my distinct dismay - packign passed on for later, we saunter down w/ all bu the kitchen sink - warriors to tree ledge, where i had a hankering to have at some lost remnant of the rancorous bolt wars of the way-back days - brought a hammer n' some handy nails, did a welcome adventurous ambulation over to the tr-top - sorted it out and settled down back to the ledge to dispense w/ lovely ones n' lap up iron-can concoctions and croon at the peach pleasant allah had perched upon my lap - eventually up the route i'll call MIA and merged back w/ warriors - up n' over to jimbo at the little people - rapped down the dutchman and dicked around on the ground gulping green cans n' gestating gallons of smoke - a grand gallop back down the 14 n' freedom at last, frolicking in the garden n' gathering up pumpkins n' gourds of all dimensions

so in that infamous middle section where you can't rap from station to station it sounds like.

old enough to decide if you want someone to piss on you?

And I sir, do not even own a phone. Seriously. Me and a lady named Rose in West Seattle are the only holdouts. nope, there's 3 of us why the hell would any man want his wife to have a 24-7 expectation on his availability to talk?

it's been a month - any light been shed on what actually happened?

such a vulgar display of power...

i'd have the lasagna

like all good 14 year olds on their berfday, be sure to get the site liquored up n' buy it a pellet-gun

10/1 - day 53, lap 35 - 15 days out at the playground last month, september always seems the dreamiest w/ early-outs at the easy time of the work year and longish afternoon light - sad to see it go, but there's a fury to fall that's pleasing in its own right - chilly out there - kenny n' geoff wraping things up in the hms revenge as i arrived - butts n' banter, then i set off for a casual romp, well clad, up the becalmed corner

too many times sir, but unlike you i've been very fortunate to not really have known any of them i've said it for well - certainly not close enough to call close friends - i've never felt the true horrid sting and i don't want to either not that it matters or is relevant here, but that quote has stayed w/ me for the past 20 years since i read it first, i can't recommend the complete work more highly - it's from the most masterful translation of the oldest existing written work in the english language and rings true even today - it must be heard, not read, to be considered rightly as it was intended- life is both heroic and tragic - the monsters we contend with are both real and imagined - our life is meaningless and yet ultimately rendered significant by those who care to remember us i would have so very much liked to have met this beautiful, wookie-beserker-strong creature

dammit, yup, that was her sun's'out'guns'out - pure fucking genius... http://cascadeclimbers.com/forum/ubbthreads.php?ubb=showflat&Number=1122122

awful - wasn't she the one who did the beautiful french tr's w/ hot chicks and cool mediterrean waters? "wise sir do not grieve it is always better to avenge dear ones than to indulge in mourning for every one of us living in this world means waiting for our end let she who can achieve glory before death when a warrior is gone that will be her best and only bulwark"

you know what robespierre said about the duties of a citizen i think we can agree this is a pretty soft option comparatively

a highly theoretical subject for me as i've chosen the luddite option of just not owning a cell phone but...how often do you see in the news a parent in a custody dispute abduct their kid and do some horrific shit to them in the name of vengeance? if the intent of the amber alert system is to prevent such nightmares, and if the majority of kids are abducted by such a parent, doesn't this annoyance just make sense? would you prefer such crimes to just be more random? shit, ya can't even listen to the radio w/o the occasional emergency broadcast test...

9/27 - day 52, 34th lap - saturday grey n' gloomy - a sound sleep in - i don't mean to brag, i don't mean to boast... - gardening n' scratching my glorious big balls in the late morning - the kids off on a mission, i laze n' grade n' launch for beacon midday - tattoed types setting off for their first beacon trip - jim n' unnamed types cleaning - steve n' rick rambling up jills - i do a lap, then team up w/ these lazy-phucks for a tr-sesh on the newly remodeled corner - top rope the overhang crux ten ways to sunday but don't leave feeling anymore settled - we double-rope rap down warriors as the sun sets in the west - chuckles n' chubby-fucks

9/26 - 51st day, 33rd lap - days of sad rain ruining my summerish dregs - jim n' dan-o, the old boy w/ the boomng brogue - steve n' adam adventuring on the dutchman - dylanology on the ledge - friday night noodles sleepily into saturday morning

i say meh.

he got lost out on the highway

helen keller? If Helen owned a car that would not give her the right to drive it. did you know she had a car?

helen keller?

aLl Ur PhOToN$ R B3l0nG 2 u$!