Twilight and Rockclimbings

30 11 2009

worst clown name ever

while i had my reservations about watching a movie aimed squarely at 15 year old girls, i sometimes like to watch popular films so i can remind myself why i hate everyone (aside from all the perfectly rational objective reasons i garnered from my 37th reading of Ayn Rand’s Art Deco Rape Classic The Fountainhead).

for those who haven’t seen it, Twilight is a story about a family of clowns with super-powers who live with regular people outside the colorful confines of the circus.  but rather than just transfix us with their silly antics (HOW DID THEY FIT ALL THOSE CLOWNS INTO THAT RANGE ROVER???!!!???), the central tension of the film is how clown/human love is ruined by the agonies of repressed sexual desire.  it felt like watching a million clowns unsuccessfully trying to grab an out-of-control (i.e. “wacky”) water-hose.

in clown language that means 😦 Read the rest of this entry »


News Flash(ed): 976th Ascent of Ro Shampo

24 09 2009
this is not me; and i have no idea WTF he is doing at the crux

this is not me; and i have no idea WTF he is doing at the crux

from the desk of my press officer:

Although many sorta-fit climbers and out-of-shape ropeguns have onsighted and flashed Ro  over the past decade (including some 11 year old kid from Texas, dozens of pregnant women, and at least one person who was “totally frying [his] ass off” on LSD), none have been able to make the 976th Ascent. Before today.  I am also the first person living in my house to climb an established 5.11d/5.12a on American soil.  As I clipped one at the anchors, I let out a victory explanation that could be heard all around: “You can get an armbar to clip!”

j/k.. it’s too swampy to climb right now….


Why Does it Take a Decade to Learn Not to Train Like an Imbecile?

8 09 2009


seriously.  wtf.

all finger strength – all the time = broke ass fingers.

all endurance – all the time = weaksauce.

all power endurance – all the time = exhausted.

all power – all the time = broke ass shoulders.

despite having read about training in cycles, it never struck me as something i should maybe consider.  like abstinence as a means to magically avoid STD’s (shazam!), cyclical training seemed like a horrendous way to get “some”.  and by some i mean rockclimbing fun.  look, if i want to campus on jugs, then it’s jug campusin’ time.  if i want to do mono one arm pullups with a punching bag strapped to my waist, then i’m gonna do it.  because that’s what me and my ridiculously enormous forearms are in the mood for.  that’s how i eat.  that’s how i drink.  that’s how i climb.

i’m basically like the Hemingway of mundane activity doing.

so instead of heeding the sage advice of training book writers and the magazine writer-people who plagiarize borrow from them, i opted for a much more belligerent strategy:

climb ’til it breaks.  then play video games until you get fat.  then climb ’til it breaks.  and so on and so forth until i’ve got a ton of points on my Xbox 360 and my total grade progression since 2000 comes out to be something like -1.

this cycle of idiocy continued for over a decade until now.  because like a ‘roid junkie – i’m cycling.

3 weeks of power/strength

3 weeks of power endurance

1 week of just sitting around being totally kick ass

that’s right.  consider all the chains “clipped” and all the problems “ticked”.

rampage time.




7 09 2009

"h" stands for hardcore awesome post bra!

the internet works!  someone told me otherwise weeks ago and – silly me – i believed them.  i’d blame the mushrooms, but that seems a lot like passing the buck.

and if there’s one thing i’ve learned from living in america, it’s that passing is okay (TOUCHDOWN BITCHEZ!), but buck passing is reserved for the super-wealthy peeps/brahs/and yos.  makes sense.  i mean, who could better pass a buck than someone with 1.3 billion of them?


return to the fray: the fray return post

5 08 2009
look how much i've aged.  scareeeee.

look how much i've aged. scareeeee.

you know what really gets me amped to write about rockclimbing.  besides winning world cup events, putting up mind blowing first ascents, and designing my own line of climbing pants/shorts/jackets?


not climbing stats (5.12c/v8).  no.  i don’t care about achievement on rock anymore because i’m into enlightenment.  and i’m like WAAAAYYY good at it too.  i’d explain, but you probably wouldn’t understand.

no, when i say stats i mean important stuff like interweb hits and offsite links.  you know, business.  anyhow, i just looked at my numerical graph thingy and apparently i’m looking into the statistical barrel of my worst month of hits since early 2008.  and the only thing i hate worse than getting shot in the face is – you guessed it – getting shot with my own failure.  in the face.  fiery hot data packets of fail right in the kisser.

so, yeah.  clearly i’m not cool with this development.  in fact, i’m so uncool with it that i’m gonna try to change things.  not anything important, like, say, racism, health care, or the weird confluence of racism/health care chatter that keeps popping up every time i leave my house.

no.  i can’t change the world people.  i’m only one blogger.  but with my intense focus and these two rockcrushing (but still very charming) hands, i’m pretty sure i can get my numbers up.

so tell your friends.  i’m back.  and i’m willing to write for their attention.  as long as said attention doesn’t require:

1) stories about doing things.  i don’t do those.  things, i mean.  i just don’t.

2) stories about winning.  i do them, but they’re all lies.  clever self-serving lies.

3) stories about climbing culture.  because 15k people in brown pants don’t deserve analysis.

4) posts without a list.  because:

a) it’s my writing crutch y’all.

b) how will you know it was me?

c) because i can’t do this alone.

nice to see you again.


this blog is now about breakdancing

29 05 2009

breakdance-handstandi have long abhorred scenes.  rave scene?  check.  skateboarding scene?  check.  mise-en-cine?  meta check.  and if we cared enough to investigate the ‘huhs?’ and ‘whys?’ of my distaste for human herds we would soon find the whole thing rests on a general dislike of people themselves.  and who can blame me?   if you’ll recall, humans are the entities responsible for slogan t-shirts, nuclear weapons, and line dancing.  yes, dear reader, i’m something of a misanthropologist. Read the rest of this entry »

champ pants: dreams can happen

16 05 2009

mammut champ pants: modern day nobility trousers?

omg.  finally.  this just goes to show that if you try hard enough, train long enough, and give it your all – you can get yourself some really amazing king-pants….. for right around $150.00.  i know, right?  B-A-R-G-A-I-N-!!!!!!!!

and i guess if was in the market for some pants that said “i win at pant wearing AND i’m running up a credit card in anticipation of a consumer debt bailout”  i’d have to wrangle me up some of these high brow thigh veneers.  anything less would be second place.  or worse: third.  *yack*  uhg.  sorry.  mediocrity makes me nauseous.  Read the rest of this entry »