shit, if that didn't happen every now and then, where would be the thrill?
touching to be subsequently sucked into rapids and crocodile swamps
and holy sheeit, them aussies are tough, chick lived!
No offense but you guys just decide to add to the trash and then proceed to give the good old "if you don't like it, go pick it up your self" attitude. Pretty freaking lame. Go clean up your own shit, and maybe pick up a party balloon or two, ya might feel a little better about your self.
my ballz come in both licorice and menthol flavers!!!
you do indeed miss the point, jefe, and if you blow off folks about you, you too will end up going down the memory hole
bill got the right one, btw, and yeah, those boys problem, regardless of route/weather/whatever, seems to be yours too
i remember years back, a dude asked for some advice about doing somethign stupid on mt rainier
nolse showed him pic of a corpse being helicoptered off the mtn after doing that exact thign he was proposing
dude got pissed, said that was a mean thing to do when he was just asking for advice - said everybody on the board was being a dickhead for not being all supportive
i chimed in, told him to ignore such advice meant he'd be in a bodybag before too long too
i was wrong - a year later dude WAS dead (on mt hood though), but they still havne't found the corpse sadly, the whole exchange got lost down the memory hole...
fuck'em, another damn yankee...
alwasy happy to convert folks to the Dark Side - if you're planning on being down in the portland area, there's aiding to be had here - i'll likely be up w/ freinds to index in the spring too...
best thing to do, really, is to learn to aid-solo, then you can spend as long as you want on whatever schedule you want and make progress quickly. i'd recommend getting a grigri and, like generations afore ye, doing the pilgrimage up city park until c1 feels like butta
502! 502! 502! 502!
502! 502! 502! 502!
502! 502! 502! 502!
502! 502! 502! 502!
502! 502! 502! 502!
502! 502! 502! 502!
502! 502! 502! 502!
mcclearly decision y-day was a nice one too, even if it ain't got much in the way of teeth to it...
damn, yer right! he shoulda pounded a little flagstaff into the view-pt there and proudly left them a pennant flying!
my expedition that day was underwritten by the good folks at knob creek
fucking bandit - great concept (wine by the liter, and in container perfect for the outback), shitty execution (tastes like ass)! they need to try a burgundy perhaps, who can fuck that up?
My name is Mud
Not to be confused with Bill or Jack or Pete or Dennis
My name is mud and it's always been
'Cause I'm the most boring sons-a-bitch you've ever seen
I dress in blue-yes navy blue
From head to toe I'm rather drab except my patent shoes
I make 'em shine, well most the time
'Cept today my feet are troddin' on by this friend of mine
Six foot two and rude as hell
I got to get him in the ground before he starts to smell
My name is Mud
My name is Mud, but call me Alowishus Devadander Abercrombie
That's long for Mud so I've been told
Told that by this sonsabitch that lies before me bloated blue and cold
I've got my pride, I drink my wine
I'd drink only the finest except I haven't earned a dime in several months
Or were it years
The breath on that fat bastard could bring any man to tears
We had our words, a common spat
So I kissed him upside the cranium with an aluminum baseball bat
My name is Mud
in addition to screaming while belaying, i also chain-smoke, read, consume dangerous drugs, muse outloud on my philosophies of condiments and civilizations, as well as sing off-key, absurd irish ballads - i find this generally prevents my leaders from falling and generally gets them the hell up the route and out of ear-shot much faster than the usual white-bread belayer