Yeah, the rope swing was fun. Sure. Whatever. They’re having the best kind of fun. Buncha friends ditching school or work at the old swimming hole. They’ve got more nerve than sense. Chicks dig that, and will join in if you let them. I’m not interested in any of that.
No, not the mountain climbers. They’re pansies. They get carted around and carried hither and yon like an effete toddler on the way to Montessori school. It’s the hired help who are brave.
They’re brave because they drive on roads like that every day. Hell, their brethren cut that road through solid rock to get Percy Devonshire Smythe the IV to the base of some pile of rocks he wants to climb to take a selfie.
I’m not sure of the fundamental utility of these rototillers. It looks like it would be hard to make the turn at the bottom of the pea patch and head back the other way. Boys will be boys, however. Thank goodness for that. If boys wouldn’t be boys, this blog would be a cold and lonely place. We need stalwart dudes like these fellers to keep the lights on and the Pulitzers rolling in.
Women always be startin’ trouble with their groovy groovin’. That’s a given. But we can’t blame her for the assortative mating that happens around her. She’s minding her own business. Of course her business is getting men up in her business. She’s very businesslike.
If you don’t get a tear in your eye and a lump in your throat watching this, I don’t want to know you. Of course I don’t know you, and I’m never going to know you, and you probably wouldn’t want to know me, so the threat is sorta idle. But by gad I love this video.