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Showing posts from 2004

2004: A Modest Christmas Newsletter

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¡Feliz Ramadan! Hello Everybody! Its that time again--Christmas Newsletter Time. I started the year with a short trip to the Congo, where I was able to extract secret compounds that aid in musical terminal-pain management. This will have great application in elevators and malls all across our great country. I also gained secrets and insights, accompanied by the rumbling of drums, from sage elders who passed on their wisdom by flickering firelight: Buy low, sell high. Word. When I got back to the Good Old USA, I was on hand to give wise advice and counsel to troubled souls as part of my community service requirements following the railroading I got in the 9th District Court. You don't remember? I was sued by militant vegans for my black-powder hunting expedition where I killed the last of the Giant Free-Range Tofurkeys. All that are left now are the tiny ones, who lead a short, pathetic life haunted by mortal fear, but I digress. My community service involved helping

Southern California Wildlife: Year of the Cat

Cougars are a fact of life here in Southern California. As the pressures of urbanization increase on the foothill and mountain communities, human interactions with mountain lions are bound to increase, often with unpredictable results. Recently there have been several highly-publicized encounters between the cougar and humans. Some have been fatal for humans. Mountain bikers, runners, and casual hikers are becoming more aware of the cougar's presence in the mountains. The following talk was delivered at the Quarterly Proceedings of Anthropomorphic Zoology, Spring 2004, by Erasmus Binkster. The symposium was held in the Ayn Rand Asbestosterium, located on the Pyroclastic Community College campus, Puta Vista CA. ===== Southern California Wildlife: Year of the Cat "Hello...Hello...I think my PowerPoint Presentation is having a few problems [tapping sounds]...while we're waiting for the AV techs to work this one out, let's get started...oh! there it is! In Farsi and Punjab

Passion of the Sliced: VisonKwest 4.0

VisionKwest 4.0: "Passion of the Sliced " Joshua Tree National Park 3/27/04 31 miles LEFT-OVERTURE The Fourth Annual VisionKwest Invitational was held this past Saturday, Mar 27 at Joshua Tree. This annual 31 mile run across the rugged, stony landscape of the unique environment had many rewards and surprises for all the participants. The VisionKwest appeared as simultaneous revelation to the two unindicted co-originators, Casino Bingo and Draw Poker in 1999. The then-upcoming Millenium was stimuli to deep thinking on the subject. After consulting sacred texts [Morrison:1967, Page & Plant:1971], and channelling bardic entities, the VisionKwest was born. The course has had many starts, and several finishes, usually a dusty matte. The main route has always involved The California Riding and Hiking Trail. Play your cards right, and there will never be enough shade. There is no freely occurring water on the course. The rewards for this run vary from year to year, but are consi

Grab A Cadaver

A satiric comment on the current body-part scandal at UCLA. Grab A Cadaver [with no apologies to the Steve Miller Band] I heat up, I can't cool down You got me chopping 'round and 'round 'round and 'round, and 'round it goes At UCLA, with these donated bones Every time I get the call, I pack my bag, I'm roaming the halls Bodies donated--to science and more, There's green to be had--deep in the gore! Grab a Cadaver I wanna reach out and slab ya Slab-a Grab a Cadaver Grab a Cadaver I drive on campus, a monkey paw Sack of tools, a power saw Dead people wait to feel my love I get a grip with a rubber glove. Grab a Cadaver I wanna reach out and slab ya Slab-a Grab a Cadaver Grab a Cadaver I start work, I make a mess I hate working under duress Muscle and tendon, gristle and bone Get paid by the piece by working alone There's magic and romance in those eyes Each one of them goin--to different guys What the hell! the heart is blue Buy the whole set and the

Tipping mountain bikers

Dearest Phillip S: On the subject of manners and mannerisms I will endeavour to elucidate the answer least appropriate to the strictures of time, space and convention. The Valley Forge trail is not popular with mountain bikers, which limits recreational tipping opportunities for the trail runner. There is something inherently satisfying about the sound of the wind in the trees, birds and squirrels having running feuds, and the fading shrieks of a mountain-biker going over the side of a trail after they've tried to run you down. It's times like these when I feel very close to Nature. How much does one tip mountain bikers? 15%, 20%? Or does one try to tip them all? The percentages refer to the leading-edge velocity [analogous to a helo-rotor] of a Powerbar, rattan cane, or 15" Braunschweiger sausage at the maximum hitting point. Top speeds vary from 125mp to 600mph. Therefore even 15% of either of these speeds striking a witless MTB'er will cause a trajectory dislocation

A Seasonal Prelude to Probable Magnificence

A Seasonal Prelude to Probable Magnificence DATELINE: LOS ANGELES 2004 While 22,000 Road Gerbils were getting their multi-figured money's worth out of the XIX Bill Burkathon here in the Great Satan By The Sea, I was a wee scampering Karma Squirrel skittering over the bosky flanks of Mt Wilson Phillips. Alone. Nearly naked. Cougar bait. And nary a Barking Duck [Torrence, Bingo, 1999] in sight. I have raised my sights to being a Sunday ultra-trail pest this summer. Not that I'm interesting in running ultras, but tagging along as a whoopie-cushion while others are training strikes me as worthy. It's like watching a slo-mo circus train wreck, where clowns are ejected from overturned box-cars, only with dorky hats and hairy butts. But I get ahead of myself. The weather had shifted from winter to spring in a few short days. Last week's chill and damp had given way to festive tendrils of happily buzzing flies, outriders to the hordes that will rise up and greet the rosy-finger

Lo-Achiever's Half-A-50k Dog Jog & Charity Run

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Random cryptic image irrelevant to training runs Sun Jan 25 07 1354  We milled at the start at Fabled Chantry Flats. The air was well-hung with the ghostly echoes of Barking Ducks.  Hal "Clark Kent" Chiasson watched us from the safety of his car, and expressed relief he wasn't coming. After signing some forms, he maintained a straight face while backing away slowly.   The Holistic Ocarina sounded a plaintive note. We were off--a three-way struggle for Massive World Domination. Mr Trail Safety, Dr Casino Bingo and the cryptically tagged Micah "218 Koi" White were raging up the blacktop towards the Upper Winter Creek Trail, leaving naught but molten tar and .38 Special tunes in their wake.  The Massive World Domination [MWD] contest was off, and waddling. Each playah claimed a special disability.  "I've only run 10 miles this week"  "My Knee is still fucked up--but I want to keep my streak alive"  "I've been watching STYX informerc