EWolfe

I just got accused of being in cahoots with that crap. You suck, Mike.

I think you all know what my answer is. I will not draw any more attention to it.

Todd Rungren: Onomatopoeia every time I see ya My senses tell me hubba And I just can’t disagree I get a feeling in my heart that I can’t describe It’s sort of lub, dub, lub, dub A sound in my head that I can’t describe It’s sort of zoom, zip, hiccup, drip Ding, dong, crunch, crack, bark, meow, whinnie, quack Onomatopoeia in proximity ya Rearrange my brain in a strange cacophony I get a feeling somewhere that I can’t describe It’s sort of uh, uh, uh, uh A sound in my head that I can’t describe It’s sort of whack, whir, wheeze, whine Sputter, splat, squirt, scrape Clink, clank, clunk, clatter Crash, bang, beep, buzz Ring, rip, roar, retch Twang, toot, tinkle, thud Pop, plop, plunk, pow Snort, snuk, sniff, smack Screech, splash, squish, squeek Jingle, rattle, squeel, boing Honk, hoot, hack, belch

I guess I will weigh in on this with some reluctance. This thread is great, but it seems to me rediculous that you COULD KNOW YOU WERE GOING TO DIE CLIMBING. It is a risk we all take, but there is no way of knowing that unless you are a Dan Osman type. If you are, then, obviously, it is not going to stop you. You are a warrior type that finds honor in such a death, and not doing it would equate to "death by ennui" of sorts. It seems the nearness to death in my many close calls (both on the rock and off) is what makes me feel alive, lose my fear of death, and know that I am not risk-averse. I agree that as your dependents grow, so should your willingness to forgo dangerous actions with high-percentage mortality rates. "There are the old, there are mountaineers, but not many old mountaineers" (or something like that)

ROFLMAO

There's a new sheriff in town, BEWARE!!!!

I am so glad you kept the ones I sent.

You could send dirty PM's to me and I will forward them after sufficient mastur....er, review.

Would a continuing stream of beta be a Drupoint then?

That's the type of brilliant response we've come to expect from you.

Kool Mo Dee: To the break of dawn To the, to the, to the Times up punk Yea yea time to settle the score To the break of dawn, another dumb move Ha, ha, ha this time it’s over boy This is me and you, head to head, let’s go Here we go, beat down round 2 Heads up punk ’cause it all comes down to Me and you, face to face, head to head Mic to mic, I like the weak shit you said To the break of dawn, beats nitro Lyrics weak, say goodnight ’cho Star trek shades, man cut the joke Let’s get serious and go for broke You still got a lock on my jock like a pitbull Victor before you pull it off you thought mr. pitiful Here’s some mouthwash, g Your mouth smells like my jockstrap, c- A-u-s-e, you’re rhyme didn’t mean ? d-o-d-d? , junior moe dee Stop biting, chewing, swallowing Who in the hell told you that you could do what you were doing Raise up son, I need jock relief Here’s a toothpick, now get my jock out your teeth You swallow it, yea, finish, burp Now let a real man go to work ’cause I’m a whip you like your daddy, beat ya like a baby Sick ya like a dog, dropping lyrics wit rabies Cut ya like a knife ’cause you’re nuthin but hype You slice and dice and ice twice for life I’m a treat ya like a hooker punk, change your clothes Put you on the streets wit ya jingling hoes Keep talking about me and I’ll keep pimping Just bring me that money and take this last whipping How can one man be so dumb You’re trying to come off and don’t know how to come You’re young and dumb and quick at the tongue You high strung bum come and get done I’ll do you wit a death blow (chorus) Kill ’em kill ’em I’ll hit ya wit a death blow My lyrical beatdown will leave ya in a coma ’cause you can’t hang without a high school diploma Your brain of fatigue, you’re out of your league You’re running out of gas and you’re tank is on e Somebody buy him a heart ’cause he’s petro Take you’re whipping like a man brother let go No apologies, tears of violence Get your black suits ’cause I ain’t smiling I’m shooting the gift of gab, brother you’re ripped in half Soon as the mic is past, you won’t live to laugh If there’s laughter, I’ll get the last one You loafed on the lyrics and you caught a bad one So who’s got no style, look at your profile You can’t dance, can’t dress and you’re so foul Still wearing played out 4 finger rings Played out fat gold chains and things You changed your look now change your gameplan Trying to dress but you still wear name brand Brother, you look crazy weak And it gets worse when we hear you speak So you ain’t got a chance in hell You’ll be known as the late ll The man who lost one, one too often Came wit a soft one and went to his coffin A close casket they won’t show ya When I finish, you’re mama won’t know ya ’cause I’m a rip you limb from limb You tombstone read he had no win So rip, rest in peace, rip ’em D.i.d., dead indeed, did ’em A h-i-t, hitman, so whatcha hit ’em wit A rhyme silencer, I hit ’em wit a death blow Chorus If mama said knock me out, come do it You can’t win and that (record scratch) knew it I’m a send you home in a body bag Wit the mic in your throat and a jock for a gag You’re out of here, over, finished, all in And marly marl can’t save you from fallin ’cause as soon as you came back what did you do To the break of dawn, another dumb move You can’t go hard, you’re just so-so todd I’m that type of guy, oh my god It’s gets no rougher comes no weaker Marly hooked the beats so now you need a Writer to bring you back from hell Because I’m a rock up l Low life loser, life like luna Lafidasical, lispless luna Tic liver lifeless, living likeness Lusting longing lyrics like this Little league, lard larsonist liar Label ledger, left the leper liar Bull, lull, lateral learning Laps language latent lurking Language, language, local logo Light laboring, limited local Now ll’s a laughing stock ’cause I bit that ass to the last stop I watched you fall like hitler fell And now you’re down to a broken l You’re records ain’t hot and you’re shows don’t sell Yo, tell ’em how you fell l, hard as hell You came back and you thought you had me But think about it, whos’ your daddy Kill ’em... big daddy, I don’t want none... I did ’em wit a death blow To the break of dawn To the, to the, to the, get him out of here

Just giving props to a good partner for being recognized as a deserving recipient of sponsorship. Vicarious living rocks! And someone's jealous, methinks.

The problem lies in the fact that I would be reluctant to admit that I "MuffPointed" a climb.

I don't want to hear about your furry-clicking. Keep it in the bedroom, Pal!

Hey, we may be bland but we're good for you!

Moses invests, Rajneesh spends and Reverend Moore embezzles.

Hell, he's not even sub-100 clubber.

Worth a piss in a leaky pot, that's what it's worth.

Joe's Valley is good if you like to boulder.

There's no way I am wearing the helicopter hat.

I climbed Royal Flush without tape, in other words, I DIDN'T aid it.

Are those Velcro gloves he's wearing while reading from "My Pet Goat"

There's usually beer at the FF events, as well.

Rrrrrrggggghhhhhh, offwidths!

Ah, yes. The sacred Goat-Stag. Pan? Or another?