It’s been about a year since the last time I posted anything to my blog. Not that I’ve had nothing to write about; it’s that I started this new job and I believe my boss has no soul. Actually, I know this. He is also the one who introduced me to Owl Tor. But I digress. My purpose today is to review for those who care the significant events of the previous twelve months.
Summer 2009 – Last summer saw Micah and me hanging out on the regular. We were climbing at all sorts of rad places like… the Splash Zone (to get there: look for the raddest Wu Bat ever).
And we were climbing a bunch at Mr. Lee’s Greater Hong Kong. Because it’s rad.
Micah is Jewish and his Mom hates when people make that distinction so this is the second of four times I will refer to his religion in this post.
We were all kickin’ it and stuff, climbing and getting all tan and junk – then Micah went climbing with Bob in Bishop and fell off this:
…and broke his stupid leg.
On Micah’s third day at Mammoth Hospital I got up early, called in sick, sent Smooth Criminal, then drove out with Bob to retrieve him. I dedicate my ascent to the Jewish faith:
This is the expression I have when I ridicule someone for being a pussy:
And sure enough, I fell off this two months later:
…tore stupid ankle ligaments…
…and got to initial my own foot. I’d like to give a shout out to Dr. Pearson, who is truly rad.
Recovery sucked, as per usual…
For some reason people would think Micah and I had simultaneous skiing accidents when we crutched around together.
Fortunately we both had the foresight to keep our hands tucked in during our respective accidents, focusing the impact on our useless ankles to save our better appendages for future endeavors. Our arms were unaffected and probably a bit angry. Before leg rehab would glimmer on the horizon we were campusing.
We were campusing a lot. Micah got wicked strong and now cranks down 1-5-8 like it’s boring.
My trivial injury healed right up. For Micah the saga continues. Long story short, my Jewish friend got all emotional about life or something.
Now it’s like you can’t hang with just Micah. You have to chill with his stupid leg all the time too. Where before there was healthy flesh there has grown a parasitic personality. And while Micah sleeps I believe this conjoined entity talks him into thinking all sorts of feminine thoughts that make him sound like a little girl when he drinks.
I’m back climbing at Mr. Lee’s, projecting Buddhist Palm with Phil. Last Saturday was like the sixteenth day of work this season.
Phil’s still doing the same thing. He’s Phil.
Brian too has kept it real meanwhile:
Last Friday Micah moved up to Eugene to start an MBA program at the University of Oregon. I told him two years in the Pacific Northwest will make his hippie ass wish he was interning at a Palestinian meat packing plant, but no one listens to Elijah. Truth be told, I might maybe a little… miss his stupid ass.