dwest wrote:Dudes, real hippies crash on the ground or in their VW van, the water bed thing is like totally bourgeois. I am like so embarrassed.
BTW what do you do when you don't realize the staples in your leg incisions have become entangled in your dog's hair during the night and early in the morning she jumps out of bed with you still attached?
1. The VW van type hippies are nomadic and a subset of hippies. Then there are homesteaders who need to stay in one place and enjoy the creature comforts while keeping watch over the crops.
2. They did leave a staple in my leg. I pulled it out myself.
3. And as Denny pointed out that this was great time off (8 weeks for me) and it came with a supply of Lortabs.
Rose tint my world. Keep me safe from my trouble and pain. 白飞梦
mutepointe wrote: 1. The VW van type hippies are nomadic and a subset of hippies. Then there are homesteaders who need to stay in one place and enjoy the creature comforts while keeping watch over the crops.
2. They did leave a staple in my leg. I pulled it out myself.
3. And as Denny pointed out that this was great time off (8 weeks for me) and it came with a supply of Lortabs.
#1. The ground dude, right next to the crops. With a shotgun to protect the crops from pheasants!
#2. So you took it out after you wouldn't split apart if it was removed.
#3. Only eight weeks? No personal defibrillator? Ya got robbed.
mutepointe wrote: 1. The VW van type hippies are nomadic and a subset of hippies. Then there are homesteaders who need to stay in one place and enjoy the creature comforts while keeping watch over the crops.
2. They did leave a staple in my leg. I pulled it out myself.
3. And as Denny pointed out that this was great time off (8 weeks for me) and it came with a supply of Lortabs.
#1. The ground dude, right next to the crops. With a shotgun to protect the crops from pheasants!#2. So you took it out after you wouldn't split apart if it was removed.
#3. Only eight weeks? No personal defibrillator? Ya got robbed.
There is so much that is inconsistent with the hippie creed with "With a shotgun to protect the crops from pheasants!" that I don't know where to begin. So I won't.
Rose tint my world. Keep me safe from my trouble and pain. 白飞梦
mutepointe wrote:There is so much that is inconsistent with the hippie creed with "With a shotgun to protect the crops from pheasants!" that I don't know where to begin. So I won't.
Really! They'd be far more likely to invite them in for a meal of brown rice and maybe some of those nice seeds from the bottom of the stash.
mutepointe wrote:
There is so much that is inconsistent with the hippie creed with "With a shotgun to protect the crops from pheasants!" that I don't know where to begin. So I won't.
Like an extra H.
And now there was no doubt that the trees were really moving - moving in and out through one another as if in a complicated country dance. ('And I suppose,' thought Lucy, 'when trees dance, it must be a very, very country dance indeed.')
dwest wrote:For those of the Urban Hippiedom Lite movement I recognize that living off the land and self-sufficiency was likely a foreign concept.
I missed the UHL movement, but for 60's/70's suburban kids, trying living off the land for the first time, we considered the whole enterprise "heavy." i.e., taking considerable energy and focus. A big task. We embraced the foreign concept, and learned a lot!!!
I wonder if taking on a steep learning curve changes one's sleeping posture?
And now there was no doubt that the trees were really moving - moving in and out through one another as if in a complicated country dance. ('And I suppose,' thought Lucy, 'when trees dance, it must be a very, very country dance indeed.')
Sitting more or less upright in front of the telly with a half-empty beer glass in front of me. That covers early afternoons at any rate.
"Last night, among his fellow roughs,
He jested, quaff'd and swore."
They cut me down and I leapt up high
I am the life that'll never, never die.
I'll live in you if you'll live in me -
I am the lord of the dance, said he!
SteveShaw wrote:Sitting more or less upright in front of the telly with a half-empty beer glass in front of me. That covers early afternoons at any rate.
When I say half-empty I'm not displaying pessimism. I'm trying to inject a degree of urgency.
"Last night, among his fellow roughs,
He jested, quaff'd and swore."
They cut me down and I leapt up high
I am the life that'll never, never die.
I'll live in you if you'll live in me -
I am the lord of the dance, said he!
SteveShaw wrote:When I say half-empty I'm not displaying pessimism. I'm trying to inject a degree of urgency.
And besides, you're halfway through the process of emptying it. I don't want to think of either of you sitting on the couch to fill the glass.
And now there was no doubt that the trees were really moving - moving in and out through one another as if in a complicated country dance. ('And I suppose,' thought Lucy, 'when trees dance, it must be a very, very country dance indeed.')
