Tis the Season to be Chossy

[JC w KC redux]

 Yep.

Take your pick. Leeper or SMC Death Hanger. The tat was originally gold.





Another star with a death hanger (looks thicker than it is)




Merry Chossmas

[clink]

By Clement Clarke Moore

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! now, PRANCER and VIXEN!
On, COMET! on CUPID! on, DONNER and BLITZEN!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!

[clink]

 And for the skeptical.


The Boy Who Laughed at Santa Claus
by Ogden Nash
 
In Baltimore there lived a boy.
He wasn't anybody's joy.
Although his name was Jabez Dawes,
His character was full of flaws.
In school he never led his classes,
He hid old ladies' reading glasses,
His mouth was open when he chewed,
And elbows to the table glued.
He stole the milk of hungry kittens,
And walked through doors marked NO ADMITTANCE.
He said he acted thus because
There wasn't any Santa Claus.

Another trick that tickled Jabez
Was crying 'Boo' at little babies.
He brushed his teeth, they said in town,
Sideways instead of up and down.
Yet people pardoned every sin,
And viewed his antics with a grin,
Till they were told by Jabez Dawes,
'There isn't any Santa Claus!'

Deploring how he did behave,
His parents swiftly sought their grave.
They hurried through the portals pearly,
And Jabez left the funeral early.

Like whooping cough, from child to child,
He sped to spread the rumor wild:
'Sure as my name is Jabez Dawes
There isn't any Santa Claus!'
Slunk like a weasel of a marten
Through nursery and kindergarten,
Whispering low to every tot,
'There isn't any, no there's not!'

The children wept all Christmas eve
And Jabez chortled up his sleeve.
No infant dared hang up his stocking
For fear of Jabez' ribald mocking.
He sprawled on his untidy bed,
Fresh malice dancing in his head,
When presently with scalp-a-tingling,
Jabez heard a distant jingling;
He heard the crunch of sleigh and hoof
Crisply alighting on the roof.
What good to rise and bar the door?
A shower of soot was on the floor.

What was beheld by Jabez Dawes?
The fireplace full of Santa Claus!
Then Jabez fell upon his knees
With cries of 'Don't,' and 'Pretty Please.'
He howled, 'I don't know where you read it,
But anyhow, I never said it!'
'Jabez' replied the angry saint,
'It isn't I, it's you that ain't.
Although there is a Santa Claus,
There isn't any Jabez Dawes!'

Said Jabez then with impudent vim,
'Oh, yes there is, and I am him!
Your magic don't scare me, it doesn't'
And suddenly he found he wasn't!
From grimy feet to grimy locks,
Jabez became a Jack-in-the-box,
An ugly toy with springs unsprung,
Forever sticking out his tongue.

The neighbors heard his mournful squeal;
They searched for him, but not with zeal.
No trace was found of Jabez Dawes,
Which led to thunderous applause,
And people drank a loving cup
And went and hung their stockings up.

All you who sneer at Santa Claus,
Beware the fate of Jabez Dawes,
The saucy boy who mocked the saint.
Donner and Blitzen licked off his paint.

[Brad Young]

I guess that YOU PEOPLE on here must be OK. At least in some respects.

My beloved 15 year old daughter and I were just at the Hitches' house, over behind Alicia's Sugar Shack. Earl Hitch is my sister in law's dad (my brother's father in law). My brother Scott and his wife Heidi (and the kids) just arrived from Colorado.

Among other subjects, we were talking about the trip that Tricia and I and my nephew Hitch will be making to Pinnacles starting on the 27th. We talked about cold camping, and what we'd climb and where. Then I mentioned that I thought my friend J.C. would probably join us for days two and three.

Tricia's immediate comment - in a pleased and excited tone - was: "really!!"

Apparently YOU PEOPLE measure up somehow.

Merry Christmas, all of you  

[Brad Young]

 And for the skeptical.


The Boy Who Laughed at Santa Claus
by Ogden Nash
 
In Baltimore there lived a boy.
He wasn't anybody's joy.
Although his name was Jabez Dawes,
His character was full of flaws.
In school he never led his classes,
He hid old ladies' reading glasses,
His mouth was open when he chewed,
And elbows to the table glued.
He stole the milk of hungry kittens,
And walked through doors marked NO ADMITTANCE.
He said he acted thus because
There wasn't any Santa Claus.

Another trick that tickled Jabez
Was crying 'Boo' at little babies.
He brushed his teeth, they said in town,
Sideways instead of up and down.
Yet people pardoned every sin,
And viewed his antics with a grin,
Till they were told by Jabez Dawes,
'There isn't any Santa Claus!'

Deploring how he did behave,
His parents swiftly sought their grave.
They hurried through the portals pearly,
And Jabez left the funeral early.

Like whooping cough, from child to child,
He sped to spread the rumor wild:
'Sure as my name is Jabez Dawes
There isn't any Santa Claus!'
Slunk like a weasel of a marten
Through nursery and kindergarten,
Whispering low to every tot,
'There isn't any, no there's not!'

The children wept all Christmas eve
And Jabez chortled up his sleeve.
No infant dared hang up his stocking
For fear of Jabez' ribald mocking.
He sprawled on his untidy bed,
Fresh malice dancing in his head,
When presently with scalp-a-tingling,
Jabez heard a distant jingling;
He heard the crunch of sleigh and hoof
Crisply alighting on the roof.
What good to rise and bar the door?
A shower of soot was on the floor.

What was beheld by Jabez Dawes?
The fireplace full of Santa Claus!
Then Jabez fell upon his knees
With cries of 'Don't,' and 'Pretty Please.'
He howled, 'I don't know where you read it,
But anyhow, I never said it!'
'Jabez' replied the angry saint,
'It isn't I, it's you that ain't.
Although there is a Santa Claus,
There isn't any Jabez Dawes!'

Said Jabez then with impudent vim,
'Oh, yes there is, and I am him!
Your magic don't scare me, it doesn't'
And suddenly he found he wasn't!
From grimy feet to grimy locks,
Jabez became a Jack-in-the-box,
An ugly toy with springs unsprung,
Forever sticking out his tongue.

The neighbors heard his mournful squeal;
They searched for him, but not with zeal.
No trace was found of Jabez Dawes,
Which led to thunderous applause,
And people drank a loving cup
And went and hung their stockings up.

All you who sneer at Santa Claus,
Beware the fate of Jabez Dawes,
The saucy boy who mocked the saint.
Donner and Blitzen licked off his paint.

I'm not sure that that is for the skeptical. I think that maybe, perhaps it is for the fathers of daughters. Helping us realize how glad and lucky we are.

[Brad Young]

Um, J.C. what route is that in the last photo?

[F4?]

Those bolts look just fine.
 

[JC w KC redux]

Um, J.C. what route is that in the last photo?

Not a clue - at this point they all start to look the same. Maybe ask Waldo.

And pinch me so I know I'm not dreaming 

[Brad Young]

Not a clue - at this point they all start to look the same. Maybe ask Waldo.

Oh, OK, got it. I totally mis-identified it. I thought it was that route on The Flatiron, you know the one where there was an atrocity or some such that Clink tells us about. 

[F4?]

+1 for the post Count.

[JC w KC redux]

Oh, OK, got it. I totally mis-identified it. I thought it was that route on The Flatiron, you know the one where there was an atrocity or some such that Clink tells us about. 

Norris needs to get on here about that one 

[Brad Young]

Norris needs to get on here about that one 

Somebody should. I swear, I've heard the start of the story several times, but never the end (interrupted before it ended and things like that).

As a result, I've never quite "gotten" what actually happened.

[clink]

This never ending story is an old one. It goes something like "Let brotherly love continue to unite us against the infidels..."


 Thinking about the Lars yet to be climbed route and that to climb it, continuing in his style, would be a lesson in courage.

[mynameismud]

one more alternative
T’was the night before Christmas, and all through my city
Ladies were stripping, and feeling so pretty.
Their hair and make up were done with such care,
In hopes that a customer soon would be there.
While the rest of the city were snug in their beds,
Strippers were dancing on display instead.
Mothers and Fathers home with their babies;
Where was the love for these precious ladies?
All of a sudden there arose such a clatter,
Everyone turned to see what was the matter.
Excited, the dancers jumped in a flash,
The “Church ladies” had arrived with their special stash.
Inside the bags were earrings and more
The dancers knew what was in store.
Unconditional love, grace and acceptance
Showered with hugs, much greater than presents.
Why were these strangers so kind and so giving?
Didn’t they see the life they were living?
Greater than judgment, love trumps the game
Isn’t that the reason the Son of God came?

Now Mercedes, now Sasha, now Sugar, now Baby
now Ginger, now Tasha, now Angel, now Candy
You are precious, valued and you are a treasure;
You are loved and your worth is far above measure.

Trials of life won’t have the last word,
Every tear, every prayer, all your anguish has been heard.
His heart burns with passion, His eyes blaze with fire
Driven by love, His scarred hands reach into the mire.
No sin is that great, no darkness too much
To keep Him away from extending His touch.

Come close, listen and hear what we say.
You have purpose and destiny that won’t go away.
Objectified, sexualized and labeled beyond words
We stand beside you and validate your worth.
It’s an honor to know you, to serve you with love
Knowing the same we received from above.

God bless you tenderly and in His perfect time
May you see the truth of His love divine.

Merry Christmas!

http://emergeladies.org/?p=458

[F4?]

Merry x-mas!

Bolt it all!

[JC w KC redux]

Had a most excellent show by the condor squadron today in the High Peaks.
Gavin, Alacia, Kris and Paul had just finished chatting with us when the formation flew in.
Never seen anything quite like it. There were as many as 10 birds at once gliding overhead, circling, landing, gliding and diving - it was WILD   

[clink]

Appreciate that Mud. Merry Christmas!

20 something of us went to see Star Wars as our tradition continues. Good movie.

My doctor advised me to back off on using the force though.

[Brad Young]

20 something of us went to see Star Wars as our tradition continues. Good movie.

Beloved brother Jon, I must disagree.

Appalling movie.

Start with "bomber" space ships that "drop" bombs onto the "bad" guys in space - because there's gravity in space, right? And noise too?

Continue with the "good" guys communicating by radio while one of them is traveling faster than the speed of light.

Space ships that are capable of traveling faster than light, but have panels of fuses?

There was so much nonsensical crap that it's not worth continuing to point it all out.

[F4?]

Never seen anything quite like it. There were as many as 10 birds at once gliding overhead, circling, landing, gliding and diving - it was WILD

They were looking for Mr. Mud, them buggers have watched him for years....."maybe this will be our day?" says one to the other."

Was there an Orange FIT in the parking lot?

[clink]

What happened to you Brad? Get lice from a Wookiee?

 I suppose that light speed and battles that include muppets and light sabers are hard for you to swallow. Blame it on Mr. Andersen. Fiction can be both great and Grimm at once. Waldo for example has a foot solidly rooted in one world and a leg thigh deep in the other.