He wasn't a cannabis stoner - as I am - his forte' was LSD - Ayahuasca - and Peyote - with a few mushies occasionally -
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The Original O'l Farts Club.
- Thread starter Putembk
- Start date
kevinn
Well-known member
Did your Lemmon Betty stretch that much ????
I had a buddy. His brother is named Stash. Stash was boinking his brother's ol' lady.
I'm mobile every day - with a good pair of legs - and two tough old feet - that go for at least 5 miles per day - every day - without gasoline or diesel or needing a 'charge' of some overpriced electricity - and I get to see and enjoy many things at walking speed - that I never did when stuck in a metal box driving on some hiway -
- No chance of me smashing into a moose - at walking speed -
Not all Stashes are the same!
Who is doing the plucking?
like when you get tied up by an expert and you forgot your safe word
We breast them !
depends on how much weed you have smoked and some bars are full of them...I'm mobile every day - with a good pair of legs - and two tough old feet - that go for at least 5 miles per day - every day - without gasoline or diesel or needing a 'charge' of some overpriced electricity - and I get to see and enjoy many things at walking speed - that I never did when stuck in a metal box driving on some hiway -
- No chance of me smashing into a moose - at walking speed -
I've breasted Doves, but we ate the whole goose.
That must have been the legend they call - 'Stash - the wife boinker' -
No. Lemon Betty was easy to grow. Every thing about that strain was easy. Should not have let her go.
Actually - I can go walkies - completely stone cold sober - without any sort of inebriate in me - and still thoroughly enjoy the walk - usually at quick march speed - with the occasional stop
️ to smell the flowers - 
or greet a friend - or pet a dog 
- or talk 
to a fox - or feed the swans - ducks - geese - seagulls - pigeons - grebes - coots and moorhens - If I wish to go faster - and travel further - I'll get the bicycle out -
I walk almost every day. Keeps me healthy in lots of ways. I have always enjoyed nature. Lots of neighbors walk the neighborhood......not me. I go to the lake. Always something to see. Different seasons bring out different things to see. Bald Eagles are common there.....not here in the hood. My favorite thing is a winding river with a fly rod miles from humans......that is when I am the happiest.
My Signature says......I HAVE CLIMBED THE HIGHEST MOUNTAIN AND PISSED ON THE OTHER SIDE......I truly mean that.
My Signature says......I HAVE CLIMBED THE HIGHEST MOUNTAIN AND PISSED ON THE OTHER SIDE......I truly mean that.
Oh I've had all sorts of cars - trucks and motorbikes 🏍 - in the past - and absolutely enjoyed them - when I had them - driven them all over the world - in many different nations and terrain - but I find that now - I need to maintain my physical mobility - as I age - and have confidence in it - or this will be a very sad Gypsy -
The exercise of walking - is the best medicine for me - its essential - can feel my quads/hamstrings and calves - hip flexors - abdominals and back and obliques - working in unison - with my heart and lungs - and it feels very good
• releases lots of endorphins too - that gets me high - so high -
moose eater
Well-known member
You know what they say: "Location ,location , location..."I'm mobile every day - with a good pair of legs - and two tough old feet - that go for at least 5 miles per day - every day - without gasoline or diesel or needing a 'charge' of some overpriced electricity - and I get to see and enjoy many things at walking speed - that I never did when stuck in a metal box driving on some hiway -
- No chance of me smashing into a moose - at walking speed -
With my distances and cargo, not even my bicycle makes that doable, though as a youngster here, with no truck, I often hitchhiked home with two 5-gallon jugs of water, a backpack full of groceries, and a 50-lb. bag of dog food on my head. Though I don't think the dog food and other heavier objects being balanced on my head helped my cervical spine in later life. And the reflexive tendency to turn one's head when the sound of traffic is approaching from behind was a short-lived learning process, reinforced by pain. "Turn the whole body WITH the head...."
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Different strokes - for different folks moose 🫎 - if I was a mountain man
- living in a house in extreme weather conditions as you do - in your current physical state - there probably would be no other option to be able to survive well - I'd probably still try and stomp around in snow shoes though - and get some real exercise - if that's at all possible mate -
moose eater
Well-known member
In the early 1980s I was living on the Tanana River and a friend from Whitehorse, Yukon Territory had driven up with his son to catch an Alaska Airlines flight out of Fairbanks to fly to Mexico on a family pass (his sister worked for Ak Airlines, and they don't serve Whitehorse).Different strokes - for different folks moose 🫎 - if I was a mountain man
He drove up in an early 80's VW Rabbit Diesel. At the time I was driving a rear-wheel-drive '74 Cutlass and my rear-wheel-drive '64 Ford F-100.
I had them plugged in for a long while and it was about -57 or -58 f. I killed all three batteries trying to get them started, though, admittedly, with his Rabbit I was unfamiliar with starting procedures with a diesel in severe cold.
I slowly turned toward Toyotas, and even with their substandard heaters (compared to their later products), starting in severe cold took a major turn for the better.
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Just walked the puppy, and there's a decent-sized ruffed grouse in the front yard under the spruce trees. The pheasant of the grouse family, a delicacy as far as grouse are concerned. Much lighter and milder/better tasting meat than most other grouse, especially spruce grouse. The thing was by itself, and I had a puppy on the leash, so I let it slide. No longer a mandate to put every grouse I see into a skillet. Those days are way gone.
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@Gray Wolf -- You just triggered a treasured old memory from the Olden Days. circa 1944-45.
One day, my job as a little kid was to catch Aunt Rody and bring her to Grandma sitting in her rocker on the porch.
I remember her giggling laughter as I chased Aunt Rody (a huge goose) all over the place.
I finally outsmarted the goose (or maybe she just gave up) but here I came, proud as punch to deliver the bird to Grandma.
She took the honking beast in her arms, and within ten seconds, the goose was quietly burbling to itself.
Grandma then began to run her fingers through Aunt Rody's feathers, with many feathers coming out with each gentle finger-combing. My job here was to get every feather in the cloth bag.
Eventually, all the feathers that were "ready" were in the bag.
So Grandma put Aunt Rody down on the porch.
Aunt Rody hopped back up on her lap, and tucked her head under Grandma's apron, hoping for some more feathery attention.
Grandma eventually had to stand up and go in the house to get away.
I was laughing so hard, my stomach hurt and I could not stand up.
LATE EDIT ADD: I sorta put that scene in "The Cadet". It was a fun memory to write.
