RobBob

Necro, thank you for belatedly honoring my request to put trask on this list. Luv, yur frend RobBob

This thread finally made me pee myself..

If you look earlier in the thread you will see that I said if they were mutual friends it might be different. But the "honey, I'm going climbing with Missy Pussinboots this weekend" would not be good news to most wives (vice-versa for husbands).

I think it's funny how the young, single guys/girls get on a soapbox about "if your SO has a problem with it, it's a lack of trust" when it comes to going on overnights with the opposite sex. Bullshit---come back and tell us about how you treat this subject ten years from now, when you are married with a couple of kids.

Hey, if I ever fall in that way, even if no one else ever knows, I will have disappointed and disgraced myself in a very bad way. That being said, I'm not going to tempt the fates by putting myself in situations that are both uncomfortable for my wife and remotely risky for me. If it's climbing with a mutual friend, for instance, that's one thing. But I'm not gonna hook up with a cc.com hottie and go climbing. Spray on, the rest of you. I'm done on this one.

Dave, well said....you know I was kidding ya . Lummox, if you head off into the alpine w/o leaving your wife info on your whereabouts, you're an ass. It's called "do unto others." There was a bunch of sarcasm in an old thread on the subject of climbing with members of the opposite sex, to the effect that "if my wife/husband didn't trust me, then we don't have much anyway." Well after a number of years of being married, I can honestly say that neither my wife nor I want each other traipsing into the backcountry with someone else of the opposite sex, and I think that's healthy and common-sense. Who amongst ye can honestly say that if you went into the woods with an attractive something-not-your-mate, and got sweaty together, that sex wouldn't cross your mind? Let the first liar speak up!

This ain't true for me. But as mama said, "it's a good thing we're all different!" Boy, I'm just glad I'm not Dave Parker...when his wife reads that shit about sex.... Most of what he writes is dead-on. But honey, I totally disagree with him on that part about the strange!

Wanting to spend the rest of my life with someone I love was reason #1. Wanting to have kids, and to raise them in a stable household, was a far-off notion that became more important as time went on. Seems to me that the act of getting married puts you on the spot---if the relationship fails, you've lost more. But like everything else, if you've got more on the line, you're also probably more likely to work harder to make the relationship last. I put a lot of stock in traditions like marriage ceremonies, funerals, etc. They serve a purpose, make us look up and remember what life is about. The act of marriage is committing.

More-importantly, I want to know about the risks of having every fucker on the plane using his/her laptop at once...and the assholes who leave their cellphones on...or the dipshit kid who leaves his CD player on during landing...

how can trask not be on that list...a person whose mind is consumed with fucking, all waking hours??

what??

Pretty impressive with a telescope...peak night tonight or tomorrow I think.

That's Butterbean, perennial champ of the toughman contests.

Here's today's tidbit for you Demos: Bill Clinton started jogging near his new home in Chappaqua. But on each run, he happened to jog past a hooker standing on the same street corner, day after day. With some apprehension he would brace himself as he approached her for what was most certainly to follow. "Fifty dollars!" she would shout from the curb. "No. Five dollars!" fired back Clinton. This ritual between Bill and the hooker continued for days. He'd run by. She'd holler, "Fifty dollars!" He'd yell back, "Five dollars!" One day however, Hillary decided that she wanted to accompany her husband on his jog. As the jogging couple neared the problematic street corner, Bill realized the "pro" would bark her $50 offer and Hillary would wonder what Bill had been really doing on all his past outings. He realized he should have a darn good explanation for the junior Senator. As they jogged into the turn that would take them past the corner, Bill became even more apprehensive than usual. Sure enough, there was the hooker where she always stood. Bill tried to evade the prostitute's eyes as she watched the pair jog past. Then, from the sidewalk, the hooker yelled, "See what you get for five bucks!"

You're all on it!! Fuckin' boring bunch of no-spraying asswipes. Greg W's busy cleaning his pea-shooter and typing with one hand, caveman's lurking but afraid to post, trask's off probably peeking into DFA's bathroom window... Meanwhile those two ballbags misterE and sphincterboy are doin' all the posting on this site. Fuck all of ya, I'm pissed! Any men out there in java-greenie-foofiland?

That's it---your new moniker---Dance Commander!

Anybody know this billcoe? I smell bullshit. Anybody involved in rescues is unlikely to be a tasteless misanthrope like that fuckhead.

this guy wants to out-Springer necro. Get a life.

My point exactly. If you democrats want to elect somebody, you're not going to do it by huddling for a self-congratulatory jizz-fest about how great Dean is. I don't care how many magazine covers Howard Dean has been on...he's un-electable. You better find a politician for the job, and back him/her.

Exactly what I thought after stumbling onto this wonderful thread. First she takes the rope...conscience eats at her (subconsciously). So she consults the thugs at cc.com, and even then she hears the old message of "do unto others" drumming in the background. So one of two things is taking place here: Either she has a secret, fatal attraction to this guy...or else she's stuck to that bluewater rope forever, in some sort of Sisyphean punishment...she may throw it away, only to find it again the next time she climbs. Seriously, does anyone think that gear falls into the booty category when someone you can identify leaves something behind?

Howard Dean will lose, because most of America doesn't know who he is, and won't know by election time.

I go away for a week, and come back to find myself barely making a Good 'ol Boy list with a "B+" WTF! I wuz bawn and bred in the South. I love beer and grits and guns. B+ my ass!! Dru's avatar list reminds me that one of my very few avvys got banned for NO REASON, depriving me of a great oportunity a couple of weeks ago...

So asketh the latte-drinking, overpaid-at-whatever-he-does, enviro-herdmember sphinx.

On top of that, I was makin eyes at your gf!

Boy things are different in the West than they were back then. Exactly 30 years ago, I got to go out west to work on a relative's ranch near Ely, NV. What a cool summer out in the middle of nowhere for a 13-year-old kid. I flew into Ely on a Frontier that I swear was a DC-3. The airport was the size of an animal-cracker box out by itself on the desert floor. My relatives showed up an hour late to pick me up, and they had shut the airport and I was all alone. The next day I learned to drive, in an old stick-shift pickup. My cousins and I drove monstrous farm equipment all summer, branded calves, killed rattlesnakes, and raised all kinds of Hell out there. My relative the ranch-owner was a real-world John Wayne, a 6'-4" Hell of a man who had squeezed into B-29s in WWII and flown Burma Road missions. He rode a huge grey stud hoss, the biggest damn horse I've ever seen, and he could rope and ride like someone who was born in the saddle. The ranch had just gotten a phone line (a party line), and the only time I heard it ring was when lightning struck in the valley. There was one a.m. radio station that we picked up from over in Salt Lake City. My relative the ranch-owner would listen to the Watergate hearings for a few minutes after lunch, curse loudly about them, then we'd head back to work. Real people living tough, fun lives. No latte-sipping, enviro-preaching, computer-nerding pussnuts in that place and time.