sounds like {my}...tastes like chicken

so I hit stony{ed} ridge yesterday with the oke-o-matic to meet up with matty and co. and...wouldn't you know it...

just happened to come across some earth loving hippy kid rock climbers (who'da thunk it?) who like to {thing that goes with fire}. being the ever social, lead-following, completely susceptible to peer pressure (I SWEAR. I DID NOT ask for it. not once) fool that I am...

got super duper {opposite of low}.

now I'm certainly not a frequent flyer of the {you eat cereal out of this} airlines, but I'd like to think that I know my way around both good and bad {thing you pull from your garden}.

I do not.

I was two {magic dragon}s in and totally {kinda like rock}'ed...off my ghetto boot-hay.

I asked a compadre if he was able to climb. his response: I don't know, man...I'm kinda {also not low}. My immediate response was...doesn't matter. I can't belay. I'm {kinda like trash}'ed, anyway.

so we sat...and sat...ate some carrots and combos. drank a lot of water. threw some stones into the abyss. had a long philosophical debate with the dog...and sat some more.

for the day we drove over three hours, hiked about 40 minutes, spent a trillion dollars on tolls, gas and goodies (we stopped twice to eat. ha!), and did two climbs.

we have hereby and forever decided that we will leave any and all {rhymes with stuff, but starts with a p}'ing for AFTER the climb time.

so we can get {opposite of low} on some rock...and not flat on our asses.