ivan

how are they going to pull somebody off who's half way up the muir wall? seems like they'd have little choice but to let'em top out, then roust them out when they get back to their cars. christ, the plaidman's supposed to be on el cap soon, would like to see how patient them rangers can get

quite possibly the only tale told from the fecal first person point of view in literary history?

are the parks in fact closing their gates, or is this just rumor? if the government ain't working, we don't have to pay them taxes, right? can we pro-rate our returns?

nice - am i allowed to make snarky sarcastic comments on rangers being roped up on flat late-summer glaciers or would that be not-kewl? glad to see i'm not the only broke-ass fool still rawking the red-koflacs on occasion

who wants to die all old n' fat? the knot migrating stops being an issue as soon as you go over an edge and it's yet to kill me - certainly worth paying attention to though of course, and when the first rapper goes, the second can squeeze the strands together to prevent it

thas' what i do, brudder, though my huge phat ass, when using this technique w/ a skinny 2nd rope, usually ends up in the knot migrating several feet towards me early in the rap

didn't these people kill jesus too?

you can just seeeeee the sun-burn setting in

the fuzzier the better when it's a pic of me a shame too, as in one of those i was having a ball - 50 meters down the rope on a rappel and doing huge pendulums all across the face for shits n' giggles

9/26 - day 40 - almost a week of solid rain and fucking work, no adventure at all - nastia's all stoked after a spell in the valley and wants to be a big waller, not that i know a damn bit of useful beta 'bout that - figured she oughta learn to solo-aid and gain some experience that way w/o making demands on dim-witted belayers (though, in truth, it ought not be that hard to round up some young'uns willing to hold the other end and stare up at here bouncing nether-bits) - she did well on the first third of free for all, and as evening grew to dusk, she lowered off her funky gri-gri setup and i had a bit of fun down-aiding and cleaning fucking torrential rain coming in a day - seems unlikely there'll be much more post-work beatarding this season

seems like, if you needed to grow a spare nose somewhere (and assuming it ain't functional yet, and yer not wanting to terrify fucking school-children) that hiding it the ass-crack would be the way to go. you might find yourself constantly pulling lint out of the nostrils though i suppose?

the last few seconds of that clip are the literal defintion of "awkward silence" i'm looking forward to bill's treatment of today's particuliar gem - i hope especially he notes ole'cruz had only been on his feet for a few minutes before flashing his tard-creds, he didn't have a decent excuse like mr. smith going down for count in a screaching crescendo of "the gubiiiimintttt!!!!"

senator cruz's lack of reading comprehension for a book literally written for fucking 5 year olds - DISCUSS

the challenge will be "one nose smells another" to which the response will be "i smell nothing!!!"

monthly staff meetings pair up so nicely w/ the annual back-to-school night ::

i am the only person currently teaching my subject is it technically possible to have a 1-man PLC, and if so, will it make me go blind eventually?

if i hear the words "rubric" or "scale" one more time today, THERE WILL BE BLOOD!!! just kidding, NSA-fellers

do we need photographic evidence to carry on a conversation about the utility of the experiment or not - discuss

if i've said it once, i've said it a thousand times: "teamwork is the vital beating heart of PLC, bitches"

SNAFU or SOSFU?

i thought it was just basic biliousness?

sorry, i'm too goddamn busy figuring out how the RTI can improve my TPEP by augmenting my PLC, possibly by relying on the CEA, largly through altering the CBA if this shit don't work, i'm SOL and will need to take it up w/ the BUM

bitter be the damned, embalmed in their base hate better they rise and die as the flashing meteor abates batter down the bricks, each edged in the mortar of my mangled state bother, such a bother, so i lie in my earthern crate your vision, my fashion your's wends while mine winds the heart of the sun, these poison passions hatred between us all, each in kind and time