tvashtarkatena

I'd have tried it had they called it BaddaBing!

Doncha have to heat pot up to it's vaporization temp to activate the THC? Sounds like a loada shite.

It went the way of the penguin.

This week on fucked-up-infrastructure.com: Dishwasher's DOA. Car's making a nasty scraping sound. Lawn mower runs for a minute, then dies. Changed the gas, cleared the line, inspected the spark: No change. I see a FREE sign and a scythe in my future. Motorcycle was stone dead. Standard diagnostics all OK. I took the ignition switch apart, cleaned out a bunch of carbon dust, and, with little hope left, it surprisingly roared to life. I just thank the Drol Susej that it wasn't a busted cable harness. At least one machine in this bone yard still runs. Fucking Hate Machines.

I think the open source revolution fizzled about a decade ago.

ah yes, been up there twice- maybe the third time it won't be storming like a mohterfucker? I don't remember it looking like that at all.

We're all good guys, Minx included.

well, seeing no shorts over polypro, i'm left to conclude this must be an okay guy? washington pass area? Looks like we wear the same size manzier.

Google will eventually consume the drone army that is Microsoft like a patient python eating a hobbled goat and shit out the useless bits, which is pretty much all of it at this point. So long, bloatware.

Mine's a barred rock.

F'in hilaire, maestro!

he's catching up to DC in the 'clever wordplay' category...are their measurement sessions bearing fruit?

hip to be square

snagged a fly maddock from an abandoned job site (from the looks of it, a do-it-yourself concrete foundation for yet another McEconoBox = failed inspection). Looks like Ballard might have a new duck pond this winter. Gotta love the New Economy.

I'll need that maul back, BTW.

You're kidding, right? Having my gutters cleaned for me IS MY DREAM.

Purple tub with gold feet? Dude, you gotta jack an Escalade medallion and start cruisin around in that shit...

I've embraced the label "unconventional" When life throws me a curve-ball, I think to myself "At least I'm not a thousand feet off the deck without a rope... this is nothing." I'll land butter side up. Cuz I know that, no matter what happens, there's nothing like not dying on a climb to make you feel good. My home? Wherever my gear is. My car? A place to live, sometimes weeks at a time. My job? The place I go in between climbing to let my wounds heal. I'm not the only one. We all maintain relationships with people whose universe doesn't involve the stress of dropping your entire 'biner of nuts from three pitches up a six pitch climb. People who haven't found themselves sleeping under the stars soaking wet in a sudden downpour thinking "thank goodness I'm in my synthetic bag instead of down." People who sleep inside 365 days a year and have never driven through the night. Whose hands don't sweat when they see a picture of a big rock with a crack in it. And, who don't routinely trust their and a partner's life to their collective judgment, skill, equipment, experience, and creativity. Maybe I'm just weird by virtue of being, and spending so much time around, other unconventional people and not around enough "normal" ones. When the "normal" ones ask where I'm going, I tell them: I've got a climb to do. Where I'm going, you can't follow. What I've got to do, you can't be any part of. I'm no good at being noble, but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of most little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday they'll understand that.

"Ce n'est pas une paire de Vitesse Racer yeux"

But I finally did figure out what would uniquely say the most about me in a permanent skin graphic. You'd be surprised how many chicks do not appreciate a pair of pleading, anime style eyes meeting theirs once they've removed your undies for the first time.

I was going to tattoo "Ce n'est pas un tatouage" on my shoulder, until I stumbled upon "CeN'estPasUnTatouage.com", a community of like minded contrarians.

I tattooed an iPhone to the palm of my hand because I can't afford one yet.

I have a tattoo of a face on the top of my foot and another face on the bottom of my chin. They stare at each other.

Of course, by the time you see the Smiley Face, it's too late. You're going to have to sleep with the Walmart Billboard whether you like it or not.

I strive to advertise my uniqueness through my tattoos in an open, uninhibited, damn-the-rulebook kind of way. I ink like I live.