Tinkerntom wrote:

KMAN wrote:

Does anyone else picture Tinkerntom smoking a spliff the size of a
baseball bat 24/7?

If it helps you relax, there are a few here that could use one!


Let us offer each other some smoke of peace...
http://www.user.shentel.net/riburr/p...ing070401.html





--
"This president has destroyed the country, the economy,
the relationship with the rest of the world.
He's a monster in the White House. He should resign."

- Hunter S. Thompson, speaking to an antiwar audience in 2003.

Frederick Burroughs wrote:
Tinkerntom wrote:

KMAN wrote:

Does anyone else picture Tinkerntom smoking a spliff the size of a
baseball bat 24/7?

If it helps you relax, there are a few here that could use one!


Let us offer each other some smoke of peace...
http://www.user.shentel.net/riburr/p...ing070401.html





--
"This president has destroyed the country, the economy,
the relationship with the rest of the world.
He's a monster in the White House. He should resign."

- Hunter S. Thompson, speaking to an antiwar audience in 2003.

That may be part of the difficulty, I don't smoke. Any other
suggestions? TnT

Tinkerntom wrote:

Frederick Burroughs wrote:

Tinkerntom wrote:

KMAN wrote:

Does anyone else picture Tinkerntom smoking a spliff the size of a
baseball bat 24/7?

If it helps you relax, there are a few here that could use one!

Let us offer each other some smoke of peace...
http://www.user.shentel.net/riburr/p...ing070401.html

That may be part of the difficulty, I don't smoke. Any other
suggestions? TnT


Here, just breath normally. There's plenty of smoke to go around.
Don't try to hold your breath. The contact buzz will still get you. See:
http://www.user.shentel.net/riburr/p...ng070401b.html





--
"This president has destroyed the country, the economy,
the relationship with the rest of the world.
He's a monster in the White House. He should resign."

- Hunter S. Thompson, speaking to an antiwar audience in 2003.

Frederick Burroughs wrote:
Tinkerntom wrote:

Frederick Burroughs wrote:

Tinkerntom wrote:

KMAN wrote:

Does anyone else picture Tinkerntom smoking a spliff the size of
a
baseball bat 24/7?

If it helps you relax, there are a few here that could use one!

Let us offer each other some smoke of peace...
http://www.user.shentel.net/riburr/p...ing070401.html

That may be part of the difficulty, I don't smoke. Any other
suggestions? TnT


Here, just breath normally. There's plenty of smoke to go around.
Don't try to hold your breath. The contact buzz will still get you.
See:
http://www.user.shentel.net/riburr/p...ng070401b.html





--
"This president has destroyed the country, the economy,
the relationship with the rest of the world.
He's a monster in the White House. He should resign."

- Hunter S. Thompson, speaking to an antiwar audience in 2003.

But I don't like any smoke! In fact, I don't like anything, that dulls
me to the wonderful feeling of being alive. If you have never died, you
may not be familiar with the extreme delight of being alive! Apparently
Thompson did not share that delight! Maybe to much smoke? TnT

Tinkerntom wrote:

Frederick Burroughs wrote:

Here, just breath normally. There's plenty of smoke to go around.
Don't try to hold your breath. The contact buzz will still get you.
See:
http://www.user.shentel.net/riburr/p...ng070401b.html


But I don't like any smoke! In fact, I don't like anything, that dulls
me to the wonderful feeling of being alive. If you have never died, you
may not be familiar with the extreme delight of being alive! Apparently
Thompson did not share that delight! Maybe to much smoke? TnT


HST(hompson), by his own count, was documented to have died sixteen
times by 2003. Unfortunately he wasn't able to perform the final tally
himself. (Guess he was off by at least one, by necessity.) Though, it
is said he made adequate arrangements in case of an unredeemable and
irreversable demise. It can't be argued HST didn't live a full life,
or that his life was devoid of any delight.

Personally, my life has been perilously close to the edge a few times.
The fact that I'm still here gives me pause. Each incident is like a
skin has been shed from a progressing metamorphosis. Most people I
know have stood at death's door once or twice, but were denied
admittance by luck or attentive guardian angel.

Absent any inhalation or ingestion of psychotropic substances,
paddling offers a number of opportunities for a natural high. There's
the endorphin rush from strenuous exercise. We've probably all
experienced frequent jolts from adrenaline rushes, which are no
stranger to the paddle sports. Sunshine has a direct affect on
melatonin and vitamin D levels in the body, resulting subtle changes
in consciousness. The constant bobbing and tipping of a canoe or kayak
is stimulating to the inner ear and our sense of balance. Flowing
water generates an electric current. What are the effects of this
current on the nervous system? On fla****er and slow rivers the
absence of sound is a form of sensory deprivation, relative to the
noise of normal modern developed environments. Sensory deprivation can
cause profound changes in consciousness. The sparkling of sunshine
across wavelets and ripples can have a stroboscopic effect. Strobe
lights are well known and used to induce changes in consciousness. So,
you're right. With all the psychedelic pandemonium going on in your
canoe or kayak, why on earth would you need a joint?






--
"This president has destroyed the country, the economy,
the relationship with the rest of the world.
He's a monster in the White House. He should resign."

- Hunter S. Thompson, speaking to an antiwar audience in 2003.

Frederick Burroughs wrote:
Tinkerntom wrote:

Frederick Burroughs wrote:

Here, just breath normally. There's plenty of smoke to go around.
Don't try to hold your breath. The contact buzz will still get you.
See:
http://www.user.shentel.net/riburr/p...ng070401b.html


But I don't like any smoke! In fact, I don't like anything, that
dulls
me to the wonderful feeling of being alive. If you have never died,
you
may not be familiar with the extreme delight of being alive!
Apparently
Thompson did not share that delight! Maybe to much smoke? TnT


HST(hompson), by his own count, was documented to have died sixteen
times by 2003. Unfortunately he wasn't able to perform the final
tally
himself. (Guess he was off by at least one, by necessity.) Though, it

is said he made adequate arrangements in case of an unredeemable and
irreversable demise. It can't be argued HST didn't live a full life,
or that his life was devoid of any delight.

Personally, my life has been perilously close to the edge a few
times.
The fact that I'm still here gives me pause. Each incident is like a
skin has been shed from a progressing metamorphosis. Most people I
know have stood at death's door once or twice, but were denied
admittance by luck or attentive guardian angel.

Absent any inhalation or ingestion of psychotropic substances,
paddling offers a number of opportunities for a natural high. There's

the endorphin rush from strenuous exercise. We've probably all
experienced frequent jolts from adrenaline rushes, which are no
stranger to the paddle sports. Sunshine has a direct affect on
melatonin and vitamin D levels in the body, resulting subtle changes
in consciousness. The constant bobbing and tipping of a canoe or
kayak
is stimulating to the inner ear and our sense of balance. Flowing
water generates an electric current. What are the effects of this
current on the nervous system? On fla****er and slow rivers the
absence of sound is a form of sensory deprivation, relative to the
noise of normal modern developed environments. Sensory deprivation
can
cause profound changes in consciousness. The sparkling of sunshine
across wavelets and ripples can have a stroboscopic effect. Strobe
lights are well known and used to induce changes in consciousness.
So,
you're right. With all the psychedelic pandemonium going on in your
canoe or kayak, why on earth would you need a joint?






--
"This president has destroyed the country, the economy,
the relationship with the rest of the world.
He's a monster in the White House. He should resign."

- Hunter S. Thompson, speaking to an antiwar audience in 2003.

Probably explains why I like to paddle, bike and hike, ski and skate,
and even set in front of my monitor posting to usenet. Its the electric
current flowing out from the monitor, combine that with all the warm
fuzzies that I get reading on the RBP, I can't help myself. Though the
brownies would help. TnT

"Frederick Burroughs" wrote in message
...

Personally, my life has been perilously close to the edge a few times. The
fact that I'm still here gives me pause. Each incident is like a skin has
been shed from a progressing metamorphosis. Most people I know have stood
at death's door once or twice, but were denied admittance by luck or
attentive guardian angel.


Great idea for a thread! I've been tossing around the idea of a collection
of short vignettes of every time I've almost died...either from being
hammered and not quite getting across the threshold, or taking a random left
turn when later I discover that a right turn would have been fatal. Why not
start a new thread, tell us your 'times I almost died' tale, and lets hear
some skin crawlers from folks.

--riverman
You go first, I'll be right on your tail :-)

"riverman" wrote in message
...
Great idea for a thread! I've been tossing around the idea of a collection
of short vignettes of every time I've almost died...either from being
hammered and not quite getting across the threshold, or taking a random
left turn when later I discover that a right turn would have been fatal.
Why not start a new thread, tell us your 'times I almost died' tale, and
lets hear some skin crawlers from folks.

--riverman
You go first, I'll be right on your tail :-)

I can only recall one time in my life when I actually thought I was gonna
die.

I was perfectly sober, met a girl at a bar. We went out side to talk.
After we had decided that I would pick her up on a Sat. and go ridin' on my
Harley, some girl came up and began arguing with the girl I had just met.
Next thing I know there are these drunk and drugged out fellas talkin' ****
to me? Well, being young, dumb, and you know the rest. I began talking
**** back. Me and this one guy get to tusslin' about, when one of his
buddies shoves a hawk-bill knife up against my throat and says, "I'll cut
your ass mother****er!" The only words that came out of my mouth were,
"this ain't necessary." Real macho, I know. The only thing I could think
of at the time was me wakin' up dead in the morgue and him soberin' up in
jail sayin', "I did what?"

Thankfully, the girls went to fightin' and the guyz turn their attentions to
a catfight. I helped break the girls up, while the other guyz went after
some other poor fella. I got the girl for one night and decided to never
see her again after that.

And here I am, girless, but alive.

Mark

Ok not boat or alcohol relate. Ok I was probably hung over. Flew in a Cessna
150 with a college friend to check out a grass strip his dad was buying. Dad
being smarter than us drove up. We landed to find that the old owner had not
cut the grass in a long while, which we did not see from the air. The strip
was slanted with a high voltage wire over one end. We looked the place over
and returned to the plane. We tried to take off into the wind but could not
come close to getting airborne due to the grass and the upslope. Turned
around and ran out of the wind (bad), downhill (good) towards the wire at
the other end (bad). Turns out the wire would not matter because there was
no way in hell we could have gotten up high enough to hit it. My friend was
bouncing the plane from wheel to wheel to try to cut down on the drag from
the high grass. We picked up speed so slow I thought I should get out and
push. We were committed with no way to stop before the barn (did I forget to
mention the barn at this end of the field - very bad). We squeaked into the
air with the stall warning blaring and made it over the barn only because it
did not have a weather vane (I still looked back for tire tracks on the
roof). I was shook, I had spent many hours in small planes at this point,
but that was a little close for me. My friend had done well. He didn't panic
and he got it in the air. Poor judgment for committing to the takeoff not
withstanding, he was cool through it all. I didn't get really, really
concerned about what we just did until he turned to me and with that typical
pilot understatement said "That was not good". The problem was his total
lack of color and the buckets of sweat coming off his face. Well like the
saying goes that which does not kill you. He has made a very good career
getting people safely from place to place for the last 20 years and I
learned to open my damn mouth when I don't like the looks of something. That
has probably saved me from having more stories like this one. Although I do
have a few more but I will pause to read about your missteps for awhile.

Great idea Riverman - nice break from the other thread. Anyone taking bets
on how long it takes this thread to digress ;

Ken

"riverman" wrote in message
...

"Frederick Burroughs" wrote in message
...

Personally, my life has been perilously close to the edge a few times.
The
fact that I'm still here gives me pause. Each incident is like a skin
has
been shed from a progressing metamorphosis. Most people I know have
stood
at death's door once or twice, but were denied admittance by luck or
attentive guardian angel.


Great idea for a thread! I've been tossing around the idea of a collection
of short vignettes of every time I've almost died...either from being
hammered and not quite getting across the threshold, or taking a random
left
turn when later I discover that a right turn would have been fatal. Why
not
start a new thread, tell us your 'times I almost died' tale, and lets hear
some skin crawlers from folks.

--riverman
You go first, I'll be right on your tail :-)

"riverman" wrote in message
...

...tell us your 'times I almost died' tale...

A bunch of us were at Wyalusing state park, at the confluence of the
Wisconsin and the Mississippi rivers for a weekend of camping......sometime
around 1979, I guess. Wyalusing is a beautiful place featuring, among other
attractions, a series of trails along the tops of the bluffs overlooking the
rivers. One of the campgrounds is near enough to the bluffs that the
distant lights of Prairie du Chien are visible across the river at
night......a gorgeous sight.

For some of us these were days of hard drinking and frequent herbal
indulgence. Scott was something of an exemplar of the lifestyle and I did
my best to keep up. One night, for reasons that were never examined (and
which would doubtless remain a complete mystery anyway), we wandered off
from the group at the campground and, between tokes and sips, managed to
stumble down a bunch of trails in the dark for an hour or more. The beer
and other liquid refreshments taking their inevitable toll, we stopped at
one point to take a leak standing side by side straddling the narrow trail.
Having finished, Scott stepped boldly forward......and I reached out,
grabbed him by the collar and jerked him off his feet as I shrieked "STOP!"
"What the ****?!," he queried from where he had fallen. I didn't answer. I
was thinking. Something was wrong.......but I couldn't quite put my finger
on it.

Drunk as I was, there was a wee bit of my brain.......somewhere down in the
old reptilian part......that had been monitoring the situation, and didn't
like what it saw....or heard......or DIDN'T hear, to be more precise. When
**** hits the ground it makes a splashing noise. Neither of us had paid any
attention at the time, but there was no splashing noise. I flicked on my
lighter and, after several tries, managed to light a piece of paper or bark
or something.......just enough to show that I was standing within a foot of
a 75 foot drop-off ending at the proverbial "jagged rocks below".

Wolfgang
just one of many "scott and wolfgang get really stupid" stories.