The Smiths

Have you heard Tori Amos doing her live cover of Don't Look Back in Anger? Probably not. Anyway, she tells a very funny story to the audience about Morrissey. Apparently he was a small dick fuckhead, but he might be a nice guy by now. That's what Tori says. I wouldn't know. So Morrissey (I know you  read my blog), don't sue me.

So recently I went to The Palace with The Smiths. Here they are. Rock stars. They all look alike to me, especially when they are wearing their sunglasses.

While the boys climbed I ate, collected feathers for my cap and tanned.

I didn't include a photo of me tanning, because it didn't work, and I still look white and weak.

I decided to onsight The Activist.

At the point in the photo I am still looking pretty competent. I should be, as I am standing on a freaking great big ledge.

Higher up I didn't look quite this good. I arrived at the crux with a poor game plan and tried to use a foothold out left. When that didn't work I figured out the toe hook but had my weight a bit wrong, didn't stand high enough and got the hideous sloper instead of the the crimp. Boom, I was out of there. So that was the end of that.