I remember the day Gary, partied all night, climbed all day, (puking off poles) remember the bishop tape on the lasher to hold the joint, shinnying up lay up sticks, your foreman was not only the "HR" Dept, he was god, if you got a big splinter he pulled it out with his 9's, ( you know the ones with a 7/16, 1/2" sockets welded to them) if you pissed him off both you and your tools got thrown in to the woods period, if you were able to walk home with out an ass kicking consider your self lucky. The squeak squeak squeak of your brace and bit, sliding down guy wires with your back strap, skipping a pole= a 6 pack, running out of lashing wire mid span= a 12 pack, that babe flashing her tits on a drive by, Priceless. And those f#!kin diving boards! That hit home, you had to be a man to set one up, the old ones anyway, what did the weigh? 70 lbs? Used them out in Missouri,
it's easyer to ask for forgiveness than permission
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