Progressing Degradation

In the days of yore when the gods blessed these lands with rain, there was a small canyon hidden on the back of Lookout Mountain where the lads of the day would go to test there skills. For years the changing of seasons meant the skies would open, filling the drains of this planet to their banks, and sending many on a journey into the inner sanctom. On the special days when this particular creek found flow, all the children of the land would rejoice, jubalent gatherings were held, and there was much celebration.

Then the Cursed came.

The sun came out. The plants dried up. The ground turned to dust. All the children cried.

The Bear has not run since his donning of the number 13.

Downstream and upstream progressing degradation can be natural erosion.

The blood of the cursed must be spilled.

"I must be cruel, only to be kind..."

One day a young lad decided he would help contribute to a project aimed at bringing the whitewater world into a new era. He decided to go out and buy an expensive video camera and carry it around the southeast and California. This young lad began to slowly amass footage of the Jib Council's wisdom, hoping to make a video documenting The Jibber's rise above the other pussywillows of the world. In his pursuit of The Truth, the lad sifted day and night through fact and fiction, digging deeper and deeper, looking for the pearl that would set his message apart and forgo the contemporary standards. This young lad found a cache of ancient wisdom stored in The Archives of Northern Georgia, and went to The Keeper to request the use of said ancient footage. Yet, low and behold, the lad found that he had been deceived and his life's work had been for naught.

Lad: Great Keeper of the Archives, I beseech thee for the lost tapes of Jibberdom!
Keeper of the Archives: Your footage has been given away to The Great Knows.
Lad: What is this disheartening message you tell? Has the trust of Jibberdom been infiltrated by some surly leviathan?
Keeper: The Keeper has spoken! Now leave my presence for you have irritated my hemorrhoids!

And so, distraught, the lad returned to the secret jibencampment to relay the news that the Archives had been plundered by barbaric aliens. The Council held an immediate summit to discuss plans for retribution:

King Tubes: There is only one course of action we can take. WAR! We shall awake before day break and hunt these fools like the animals they are!
Captain Ralph: But sire, we know not the ways of these foreigners. We shall track them and learn their patterns, so we can creep upon them in the night and snuff them with exact execution!
Little Lando: What, should we suppose, are the intentions of this great Knows? Will he use the wisdom for good? Or evil?
Brother Broiler: I have reason to believe The Knows has intentions of making a virtual guide book of our very own local creeks. I say we seek the advice of The Lady Luck, Aquafienda, in the mystic courts of Mt. Sativa. She will guide us in our search for retribution.
Captain: How dare he! The Keeper has betrayed us in assisting such an evil and misguided exploitation!
King Tubes: Yes, Captain, this is indeed a sad day. And dear Brother, you have again showed me my own blinders. Aquafienda will know the intentions of The Great Knows.
Kriste O. Pherson: Has anyone seen my other poagie?
Captain: The brother is right. This matter is of more importance than any of us can comprehend while blinded with anger and confusion. We should seek the wisdom of our lady.
King Tubes: It is decided. We wake at daybreak and head for the mountains!

As we speak, the council seeks the elusive Aquafienda. What will be their course of action? Only time will tell, but meanwhile, I believe the school of hard knocks needs to add a course on good decision making.

Lurk Skywalker Lunching

here is a little snack pack for all you lunchables out there:

how will we go?
in rain and flood then snow?
maybe quakes and fire
is what god desires
to end this freakish show.
and who will outlast
time’s destructive path?
the rich? the poor?
the ones who know more
and had brains so big
that they chose to dig
a hole in which to hide?
these fat little rats
with translucent skin,
white beady eyes, and
spines of small size,
will crawl in the bowls
with worms fear of owls,
hating each second they’re in.
squirming and whining,
they wish they were dining,
in the feast halls of days long gone.
till one day desire,
consumes them like fire,
and they creep back to the top.
the sun hits their face
and they vaporize in place,
cause they lost their old tough skin.
but there, just before,
they become nothing more,
a fancy site they will see.
the earth in a place,
a time and different space,
hurling itself 'round the sun.
what will be there?
a tom, dick and hare?
or bugs with six legs
and snakes laying eggs?
i guess no one knows,
till times decompose
and then we'll have an answer.
but be sure that one ribbon like song,
will sew the worlds together.
hummmm life moveth on,
strike times shaking gong,
and please will you pass me that…

ADDITIONAL NOTE:
wednesday night is The Rodson's debut in the folk-like rock band that is SOUTH HEIGHTS
pictures of this momentus occasion to follow

"I'm lovin It"

I love the internet... You must as well... Well you're here aren't you?

I was going to post some shi yesterday it would have been sweet cause I was pissed but then I went running.. Oh well maybe next time. Randy R ain't been writting so this place is commandeered for NOV. 10. I think he might have been put off by some fags on the internet who told him this wasn't worth reading.

I especially like clicking the next blog button... Sometimes you can read about politics, science, squash, swinging, and sometimes there are pictures of hot chics.

Occasionally I read about kayaking on forums upon the world wide web. It's usually pretty boring until someone starts some shit up. Today's highlites were:

/

and the surprise follow up:


Here's a real zinger:


also the forum on boof.com has been reaalll niice them peoples panties is all wadded up no matter how you slice it.

I like the way the internet has become a good information source for kayaking and how people also use it to boost their own fame and/or egos
some have been quite successful.
I like to use the internet to video scout. I haven't gotten out of my boat to look at a rapid since I got rid of dial up.

another entertaining read is when Rush Sturgen asks the reads of the caliproduct forum why everyone is all hating on his crew man. Why ya gotta be hating on YGP bro? The internet is sweet because you can post something that seems ok while at your desk and then once it is out there you realize you made yourself look like a pussy.
This is what a pussy looks like: (!)

see what I mean ( at least I can edit this later... I think)

on a side note sometime when you get a chance look at a blog called write this shit down I like that guy he seems unhappy.

How 'bout those politicians ehh?

daa da da da daaa....

The Gravitational Force Between Two Objects...

...is inversely proportional to the distance between those objects, Newton might try to tell you, but on this night, it seemed that the physical laws of the universe did not apply. There we were, having just emerged from the depths of the MFK stinky, filthy, ravenous and exhausted, ordering burritos from a young Latino named Angelo. His namesakes’ 24-hour taqueria had been like a shimmering oasis amidst the desert of closed eateries this Fresno night. We sat down and began devouring our hot re-refried bean feasts with our eyes barely cracked enough to see our plates when, simultaneously, we all felt the enormous force pulling at our attentions from across the dining room. And there they were, the most humungous tatas on this side of the sierras, sitting aloft the chest of young Latina muy bella. Like the peaks that had drawn us to this side of the continent, they gripped our stares with their sexual gravity. Besides the occasional under the breath, oh my god, no one spoke a word, but sat there stuffing our faces, locked in by the massive fertility symbols. She was obviously with her boyfriend, but no one cared after being in the wilderness for five days. We were happy to be alive and to be able to enjoy such a lust. We finished up and slowly began filtering out the door, trying to come up with excuses to stay within there presence just a moment longer (oops I left my napkin on the table, better clean up that mess). As we stand around outside trying to figure out how all six of us fit into that four door Dakota, we hear a voice behind us:
Boyfriend of Beauty: “You guys staying at the marinas?” (so it sounded to us)
Tubes: “No, we just ran the Middle Kings, we’re going home.”
Boyfriend: blank stare
Us: blank stare
Boyfriend: puzzled look and Spanish murmur
Us: blank stare
Boyfriend: “No, you been starin at my girls, essay!”
Broiler: “Naw man, she was staring at us”
Boyfriend: “I don’t think so holmes, she says you was starin at her!”
Us: blank stare
Us thinking to ourselves: “I wonder if this guy has a gun. Hmmmmm, maybe we should go.”
Broiler: “Well, I guess we’ll be going.”
Boyfriend: Spanish murmur
And so we left and drove all night, just to miss our flight home, but that is another story altogether...

Before Now

In the time before the blastoplast, before man had fully comprehended his fate, time allowed for observation.
Constraints now propel him toward a point in the future, still unknown, fully disconnected.
These are some things observed in the ether before the tunnel was constructed.

"

The Planets Align

Near the end of this past July, Mars and Venus came running around the sun with just enough gravitational pull to allow the mighty gates of LeConte Canyon to swing wide and swallow the souls of a few fortunate humans. Here, their tale will be forever burned into the silicon of cyberspace for all the children of the land to take up and weild like blades of days forgotten. Enter not with the assumption that these are modern day heros or half witted wallywomps. These are ordinary men, with feet and hands of similar make to you and I. Their bodies, like yours, are mostly just a substance that, quite ironically, is the same substance they so eagerly desire to tame: Water

Joint me as we ride this pony to its death in the mystical tale of Nine Deadly Punishments

what can i say

that's right. tj is on the bloggin scene like william tell on a 747. but after all this waiting and anticipation, hours of laboriously treading through the information muck hole, and an aquatic chemistry biffing, i come to find my pursuits in finding the perfect name totally worthless. someone has beat me to the blogger man, and stolen my name.

so add an 's' and you have jiblogs. maybe i like it better anyways. this way, after the rest of the rats spread the word and some total loser decides to come looking for my shit, they will find an even bigger pile of shit made by some tight ass from wisconsin.

but speaking of shit, here is what you really want to see anyway:

while in the dollar general, one might stumble upon one of these fluffed up, nastier flavors: winter green

Stay Tuned! more prodigious bull shit coming...