The Hemingway Alias?
The Hemingway Alias?
He's in deepest Africa hunting Bongo, drunk on Gin, reading, reading, reading
I'm pretty sure I heard that he was spending some summer leisure time fly fishing in southern VT. One afternoon, he stopped into Killington and ran into Greg from Alpinezone. They came to fisticuffs over a hot New Jersey Italian babe and he ended up taking a cheap shot from said babe that put him in the ICU at Rutland Regional Medical Center. I was hoping they would transfer him to Dartmouth Hitchcock but I haven't heard an update.
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Aim for the chopping block. If you aim for the wood, you will have nothing. Aim past the wood, aim through the wood.</p>
He was starting to sound a little depressed. Should we be worried?
I always wondered if he was Joe Strummers alias, now that Joe doesn't post here anymore. Both were entertaining writers.
Never in U.S. history has the public chosen leadership this malevolent. The moral clarity of their decision is crystalline, particularly knowing how Trump will regard his slim margin as a “mandate” to do his worst. We’ve learned something about America that we didn’t know, or perhaps didn’t believe, and it’ll forever color our individual judgments of who and what we are.
^^^
That was always my guess too.
"fuck off you asshat gaper shit for brains fucktard wanker." - Jesus Christ
"She was tossing her bean salad with the vigor of a Drunken Pop princess so I walked out of the corner and said.... "need a hand?"" - Odin
"everybody's got their hooks into you, fuck em....forge on motherfuckers, drag all those bitches across the goal line with you." - (not so) ill-advised strategy
solid combination for the rich and famous.
b
.
I'm thinkin Ty or maybe SuPu
Do you think real Ernie would have surfed? I mean it's not like he actually ran with the bulls at SanFermin. Perhaps only bylines in Surfer mag?
Did the last unsatisfied fat soccer mom you took to your mom's basement call you a fascist? -irul&ublo
Don't Taze me bro.
Here's hoping he didn't move to Sun Valley...
"We need sometimes to escape into open solitudes, into aimlessness, into the moral holiday of running some pure hazard, in order to sharpen the edge of life, to taste hardship, and to be compelled to work desperately for a moment at no matter what. -George Santayana, The Philosophy of Travel
...it would probably bother me more if I wasn't quite so heavily sedated. -David St. Hubbins, This Is Spinal Tap
Me? No, brah!
Hemingway (the alias) might not be dead. Bumping this thread.
I saw him in the backbar of my local watering hole, his head pinking out between the gin and bourbon.
Chasing tail, no doubt.
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