It's finally October, there's finally some cool air and that means there will finally be some friction on these blank-ass slabs out here. Of course, that means I'll actually have to find a few moments to climb between extended sessions in the basement of that damn store. Health insurance - that's how they getcha. Nope, can't quit the job cuz then I'm back to paying out of pocket, and who the hell can afford that? No, the answer is to get rich quick, see. I've got it all figured out: I'll spend the next year executing my top-secret, get-rich-quick superplan, and then I'll be able to quit my job in time for next October, when I'll be able to go out and climb full-time again. Then YRG and I can get our hands on some goats and some Busch heavy and take off on the OHT to chase turkeys and climb rocks. What people don't understand is that to live like a completely homeless slob, you've got to have money. The older one gets, the closer one gets to losing that opportunity entirely. So that's the plan: Get rich, live in a tent with goats, drink Busch, climb rocks, be happy.
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