sobo

FYI: Aron Ralston was #6, not #2. I read all seven. Did you read who was #1? Freakin' amazing. Then it went all downhill real quick-like when I clicked on the link to Roofie Roulette. I was simply not prepared for that... Click on the Digg link on the right sidebar, entitled "Worst Drinking Game Ever - NSFW" :shudder:

Kevbone, What really pisses me off is the knowledge that someday, my society-contributing kids are going to be paying their taxes so that your little entitlement-minded brat can have whatever his self-centered mind sets his heart upon without so much as lifting a finger on his own initiative to get. That is exactly what you are raising with your "no consequence parenting" attitude: an "I deserve everything and I don't have to work for anything" little brat. You don't like hearing that? Well, look around, Sonny Boi, at all the L00zer brats that were raised in the 80s and 90s that we "affectionately" refer to as Generation X and Generation Y. The bulk of those fucking whiners are just entitlement-minded brats that were raised by overly permissive parents... like you.

Yes, Bill, I have seen the BK website, but as Mel has pointed out, it is all a big, cruel, in-extremely-poor-taste, hoax. No kitties were ever harmed, as none were ever Bonsai-ed. For the past several years, whenever I see something on teh interwebz or forwarded to me in an email that appears just too unbelievable to be true, my first stop is always Snopes, before I get my undies in a bundle.

Have you ever been diagnosed for a deviated septum?

Here ya go, then... :lmao:

Whew! I'm glad the jar survived!

My dad was never angry when I got whipped. It was just a matter of something that had to be done to instill the norms of societal behavior into a young maverick who wasn't much interested in following the advice/directives of authority figures. My dad was quite controlled, and the whippings consisted of but a few swats; no more than 4 or 5 typically. There was no malice involved, just good old fashioned corporal punishment to one who decidedly deserved it. No one can convince me otherwise. I'm not making any apologies for my parents. They did what had to be done, and I certainly needed it. One must understand that I ran with less than desireable crowds during various stages of my youth, and pyrotechnics were always my tool of choice. I blew up and burned down a lot of things. A civilized society does not take kindly to this sort of behavior from its future leaders...

Oh, and I'm just here for the again. Political ideologue

You need to read these (my favorites are in bold italics): US Marine Corps Rules of Engagement 1. Bring a gun. Preferably, bring at least two guns. Bring all of your friends who have guns. 2. Anything worth shooting is worth shooting twice. Ammo is cheap. Life is expensive. 3. Only hits count. The only thing worse than a miss is a slow miss. 4. If your shooting stance is good, you're probably not moving fast enough nor using cover correctly. 5. Move away from your attacker. Distance is your friend. (Lateral and diagonal movement are preferred.) 6. If you can choose what to bring to a gunfight, bring a long gun and a friend with a long gun. 7. In ten years nobody will remember the details of caliber, stance, or tactics. They will only remember who lived. 8. If you are not shooting, you should be communicating, reloading, and running. 9. Accuracy is relative: most combat shooting standards will be more dependent on "pucker factor" than the inherent accuracy of the gun. 9.5. Use a gun that works EVERY TIME. "All skill is in vain when an Angel pisses in the flintlock of your musket." 10. Someday someone may kill you with your own gun, but they should have to beat you to death with it because it is empty. 11. Always cheat; always win. The only unfair fight is the one you lose. 12. Have a plan. 13. Have a back-up plan, because the first one won't work. 14. Use cover or concealment as much as possible. The visible target should be in FRONT of your gun. 15. Flank your adversary when possible. Protect yours. 16. Don't drop your guard. 17. Always tactical load and threat scan 360 degrees. 18. Watch their hands. Hands kill. (In God we trust. Everyone else, keep your hands where I can see them). 19. Decide to be aggressive ENOUGH, quickly ENOUGH. 20. The faster you finish the fight, the less shot you will get. 21. Be polite. Be professional. But have a plan to kill everyone you meet. 22. Be courteous to everyone, friendly to no one. 23. Your number one Option for Personal Security is a lifelong commitment to avoidance, deterrence, and de-escalation. 24. Do not attend a gunfight with a handgun the caliber of which does not start with a "4."

I'm just here for the Carry on.

Man, that kind of a childhood would truly suck. Sorry, PLC.

HOLY SHITE!!!1 Hello Kitty has been reactivated!

I had a healthy fear of my dad, but not because of the whippings, but because I knew he would whip me if I deserved it. If I did whatever was expected of me for age-appropriate behaviour, there were no worries. I did not dread my home life unless I lipped off and swore at a teacher, hurt an animal, or any other dumb shit that pre-adolescent males do. If I did these things, then you betcha I feared going home that night, because I'm a real shitty liar and my dad could smell a liar a mile and half away. He would whip me just for lying sometimes, and not for whatever it was that I lied about. He hates liars. By the time I was seeking parental advice, my dad was ensconced in projects in the Middle East, and I finished high school in the States without his immediate presence and guidance. For that, I am sad, because I might be further along in my career by now had I had him available to consult. Or not. The things I did and learned and the mistakes I made in those "wasted" 4-5 years between two college tries have contributed to make me more of what I am today than anything else I can imagine, except my parents' unconditional love. I may have been a real shit kid to have as a son, but my parents never gave up on their love for me. Their love was what instilled confidence and trust in myself, because I was never very obedient. Still ain't...

My dad spared us the embarrassment of having to explain the welts to our friends. The beating was quite enough, and it was a private affair. And we ran roughshod over Mom, too. Her phrase was, "You just wait till your father gets home." By the time she got to that point, it was far too late to avoid the whipping. And I always enjoyed hangin' out with Dad, but he worked a helluva lot of long hours so we didn't have to live like porter and billcoe apparently did. Man, I don't envy you guys, and I thought we had it rough as kids. I never had my own pristine shoes or clothes until I was almost 10 years old. Hand-me-down was my middle name.

Shit, his rise to stardom was meteoric. If it took Dru 10 months to hit his first 2000 posts, then that's an average of 200 posts/month. At that rate, he would would be at ~18,000 posts today. But between Hello Kitty and Cousin It, he's got well over twice that many. The graph is definitely not linear.

I swear to Dog that my dad gave me a whipping with his doubled-back belt across my bare ass at least once a week (no buckles). Swear it. Truth be told it was prolly more like once a month. The real truth is I deserved every goddamned one of those whippings, and if I had not gotten them, I would either be dead or in prison today. My dad was a fucking idiot when I was a kid, but by the time I was 19 and out of the house, he was pretty smart. By the time I had graduated college, the man was a fucking genius. He continues to get smarter every damn year. Count me standing on the side of the line where Rudy's standing. Ain't nothing wrong with a little well-placed corporal punishment, when warranted. And Rudy, my dad preferred to whip the ass because it wouldn't embarrass us later if we decided to wear shorts. The ass is made for receiving beatings.

That's not a prediction, that's a universal truth.

please stop reading this useless thread. okthnxbai.

Had it actually been me, you would have heard news reports of people keeling over from inhaling "toxic gases" and the like...

It's all over folks. Go back to your homes. Move along. Move along.

So if you live in Kennewick and were trying to get to Taco Time or the Teriyaki Grille for lunch, but were stymied by the humungous traffic back-up in that area, and your call to the Tri-City Herald didn't net you any information, what do you do next? Well, you might call the KPD non-emergency line, and they might ask you a whole lot of probing questions about who you are, where you live, and why you want to know and stuff. But if you're pleasant and patient with the dispatcher, he will eventually tell you that another officer will call you back. So when the officer calls you back, and confirms who you are, and you ask him what is up with the huge traffic snarl, he tells you, "We have a report of a bomb in the area." "Oh really? A bomb threat, eh?" "No sir. We have a report of a bomb." "You mean a real bomb? Not a threat of a bomb?" "That's correct sir. We have a bomb." "Can you tell me where it is?" "No sir, I can't tell you that right now." No shit, this just happened when I was out for lunch. So, wow, terrorism has hit the Tri-Cities. Go figure...

Lightning Dome, SF of the Clearwater River. 'Nuff said. The Rock: It's clean granite (granodiorite, actually), bolts on the steep and slabby, and abundant gear placements for the flakes and cracks. Most routes are a combo of both. It's got many multi-pitch all day outings and several one-pitch wonders. Descents are easy, and there's virtually no approach (some routes go right from the white line on the side of the road, 15 minutes is the max uphill climb). The routes are all quite varied and interesting, requiring one to use many different techniques on any given route. Smearing, edging, foot camming, off widths, hand and finger jamming, dime-edge fingernail holds, pinches, underclings, au chevals, you name it. Vantage, this ain't! There's years (dare I say a lifetime) worth of FA potential for the hardier souls - acres of undeveloped rock abounds. The Setting: The scenery is amazingly stunning, there's a cool river for apres climb skinny dipping, and the place has goats scampering all about, eagles screaming overhead as they soar on the thermals, and wolves howl at night. The whole place smells of Poderosa Pine. The Amenities: The camping is plentiful and free, no fucking NW Forest Pass or WSDFW parking stickers required, a precast shitter a quarter mile from the crag and at every campground and they're all well-stocked with TP (a fact E-rock could appreciate), cell phones don't work, beer and ice is available without leaving the canyon, and best of all IT AIN'T THE LEAST BIT CROWDED!!!1

POTD! And it's wasn't even 8:00 yet! :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao:

Red sky by morning, sailors take warning.

Hey Mikey! Is that l0ngpause/Kat with ya there? Nice shots!