Oh, I'm a fan of mild chest beating as the next guy. But Ho-le-crap. It's like sitting at a bar scarfing beer nuts and the guy next to says "...this reminds me of the time we were on the south face...blah, blah, blah". Next it's the TV commercial, or the beer foam, or the coaster (!!!???) that presents and opportunity to launch into another unrelated opportunity for soothing whatever-the-fuck insecurities are driving this train.
After a while the repetition is quite tiresome. Even amongst the more restrained chest-beating of CLIMBERS.