Hanging On - Scrog - Eerie Invited (Cassette)

Set the screen about a foot or more above the base and as the tops grow up thru the screen bend them over and use short pieces of twist tie to loosely lash them to the screen. PVC or wood frames are not needed. I use stiff sheep fencing with squares up to 5x6". If I want to grow a tip across a gap I tie in a piece of wire across the gap and lash the growing tip to that. I buy the twist tie on a roll with a built in snipper to cut off pieces the length I want.

The remnants of a one plant DWC Scrog that yielded 8 oz of bud and almost the same in sugar leaf and popcorn. Vegging and tying down tips should continue until the screen is almost full. When a tip grows to the edge you just let it go for a few days until it's long enough to turn around and tie back into the screen.

As those branches grow along, their side branches will grow out and need to be lashed down as well. There will be lots of those and tho smaller will make up half or more of your yield. The amount of the biggest colas will depend on how many main branches started the ScroG. The more branches the smaller the colas at the end but overall yield is higher.

A light screen can always be suspended from the ceiling too and keep the weight from pushing tiny netpots through the lids. I like the 3. With a bigger screen I could have got a pound off her. But do I want to have sex with this guy? The other thing is, sometimes I think I could be bisexual, and every year or two I have a man sex experiment. My phone rings again. Do I look like that kind of girl? Well…how much? This makes , or is it ? Or 2, miles and a month or two of groceries and stuff while I explore desert canyons and sky islands.

What more could a girl need? I slide down between his legs and he unzips his jeans eagerly. It is small, with a nice curve and for a second I love it and want to fuck him. He gasps and wiggles a little, and I take his cock in my hand. He moans and half thrusts his hips. I love this. When I finally grab his cock, two-handed, and give it a couple strong, twisting strokes, he explodes right away. I giggle. While he cleans up, I pull my jeans and tank top back on over my fishnets and thong.

I make myself look totally calm while I throw my iPod and cleaning stuff in the bag I came with, give him a goodbye hug, and tell him he should really call me again to clean the rest of the house. Then I fold over in my seat, laughing and clapping my hands with excitement. Leaning back, I push my hips up to pull my jeans down and start fishing the hundreds out of my fishnets. The next day Spot and I get in the van and drive across the country until I find a beautiful desert-sky island in northern Arizona.

I stay for a couple weeks, playing in a creek and tracking coyote, before I get low on money again and start over. Love this Narratively story?

Sign up for our Newsletter. Send us a story tip. Follow us. Jay J. Armes is a legendary and controversial Texan investigator with hooks for hands and six decades chasing criminals. This was his most epic murder case ever. Chiang Mai is a large city in the northwestern part of the country, an energetic mix of markets, shops and packed thoroughfares, a place where people can easily disappear into the anonymity of bustling urbanity.

It was early January , and Weber, at the time 30, had been in the country for about four months. Weber had stayed at hostels, where he slipped the proprietors some cash to not record his real name, and he was now living with his girlfriend, a Thai college student named Tsom, and her little dog Lychee. She seemed to be waiting for something, and she perked up when she heard a knock at the door.

It had taken a bit of convincing for her to warm up to them, especially since one of the men had two shiny silver hooks in place of his hands, but they were friendly and she told them her boyfriend was expected back in a little while. Weber assessed his visitors. One man, in his late 50s, was shorter than average, with sparkling eyes.

He was wearing a somewhat out-of-fashion leisure suit, but Weber could tell his clothes were quite expensive. At the end of each sleeve was a curved, articulated hook, capable of opening and closing like a pincer. Weber glanced back at his perplexed girlfriend and stepped out into the hallway, lightly closing the door behind him.

The men deliberately crowded his space. Weber looked at the other man. He was taller, in his early 20s, and regarded Weber with a piercing look. The older man reached into his pocket and produced a card with his hook. It read:. He was a private detective and chief of the firm, he said, then introduced the younger man as his son, Jay III. He had pursued suspects all over the globe, and he looked at Weber with the kind of practiced calm that can only come with such experience.

Armes noticed that the door had been cracked open and Tsom was surreptitiously trying to listen. Armes suggested the Orchid Hotel, where he and his son were saying.

It would probably be best to flee, but at the same time he was desperate to know what their appearance truly meant. A tough-looking Thai man grunted at them from behind the wheel and drove them to the hotel. There was another knock, and when she answered, the men apologized for the disturbance. Your boyfriend was involved with another girl and she disappeared. Nobody knows where she is. Like Tsom herself, she was pretty, with an open and trusting expression.

The men strongly suggested that Tsom not let Donald back into the apartment when he returned. In their experience, they said, there was no telling what a cornered man might do. T he car weaved through the sardine-dense street packed with cars, buses, motorcycles, and a seemingly unending amount of tuk-tuks, finally approaching the regal hotel where The Investigators were staying.

Armes opened the door for Weber and followed him inside. They grabbed a table in the restaurant, where they sat surrounded by tourists and locals alike. Weber sat down and looked at the detectives impassively.

They asked if he wanted anything to eat, to which he tentatively said yes. He was softer-spoken than one might expect a private investigator to be, speaking in measured sentences in a voice on the higher end of the register. Still, his straightforward demeanor gave off authority. Jay III picked up from there. Weber had left the U. Weber looked at them. Armes had blown his hands off playing with explosives when he was a kid, and his prostheses could apply pressure three times that of the human hand.

He was adept at everything from answering phones to firing weapons with them, and these tools even gave him seemingly superhuman crime-fighting abilities, like punching through windows and reaching into flames unharmed, adding to the lore surrounding him. Corral, quit his post after a few days because the city was too dangerous.

Armes readily plays up his standing in this crime-fighting tradition; his flair for self-promotion earned him minor celebrity as a larger-than-life crime fighter in the s.

He appeared on TV shows and in countless articles, and his autobiography was published by MacMillan in There was a Jay J. Armes action figure complete with hook hands that could be exchanged for other crime-fighting gadgets.

Armes is an irascible hard worker and very confident in his own judgment, but he has also been accused of getting lost in his own celebrity and inflating the magnitude and danger of his work. He swallowed. Armes and his son nodded. They adjusted themselves in their chairs and settled in for a long conversation. It was the beginning of a showdown, a desperate yet measured gambit on behalf of a woman who had tragically gone missing more than eight months before, on the other side of the world.

Armes was convinced Weber knew exactly what had happened. Bringing forth the truth was simply a matter of navigating a complex game of cat and mouse in a country where they had no jurisdiction, no authority and few allies. But that was his forte, and Jay J.

Armes was proud to be on the case. A pril 16, Lynda, 24 at the time, was in medical school at Northwestern University in Chicago, and was generally great about staying in touch. Lynda was from Robinson, Illinois, a town of 7, people about miles south of Chicago, where her father, Sompong, was a radiologist. Her parents had immigrated to the United States from Thailand when Lynda was a little girl, and Lynda had wanted to be a doctor for as long as anyone could remember.

Somewhat quiet, she came out of her shell in medical school and was known to be a dedicated student who thrived in the company of her intelligent fellow students. It was completely unlike Lynda to fall off the radar. She was responsible and courteous and simply liked talking with her family. The last time anyone had verifiably seen her was the night before, when a friend recalled her eating a salad in the dorm cafeteria.

The police initially suggested that Lynda had taken off voluntarily, as there was little evidence that she had been abducted from her room in Abbott Hall. The days turned into weeks and months, and neither the local police nor the FBI were able to unearth any information about her whereabouts. Some small spots of blood had been found on the floor of her dorm room, but there was no way to determine whether the blood was from something sinister or from the routine nosebleeds Lynda was known to have.

Lynda and Donald had begun dating in when they were both undergrads at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. Lynda and Donald continued their relationship long-distance when he went to New York to attend law school at Fordham University.

Things seemed to be going well, and in Weber flew to Thailand with Lynda and her mother to meet their extended family.

In , Weber returned to New York to take a job with a prestigious accounting firm. The rigors of a long-distance relationship were difficult on the couple, and it was sometimes hard to maintain their enthusiasm for each other. Weber ultimately got fired from his job at the firm and moved back to the Chicago area. In the interim, Lynda had begun a friendship with a classmate that eventually led to mutual feelings of attraction. But Weber became obsessed with winning Lynda back.

The height of his vindictive ignominy came in February when he attempted to extort her family by promising to release the boudoir photos Lynda had given to him years earlier. He promised he would keep them apprised of anything he heard. On Christmas Day , a little over eight months after Lynda had disappeared, the Singshinsuks got a difficult phone call.

He said he was calling from Thailand, and it was unclear what he was implying — did he find out something in Thailand, or was he saying that he knew where she was in the U. Frustrated with the lack of progress, the Singshinsuks reached out to The Investigators, the private eyes from El Paso, whom a friend had read about in a magazine.

The Investigators were said to be one of the best firms in the world, and founder and lead detective Jay J. Armes gave a unique promise when taking on any case: He percent guaranteed results.

The mission-style building is surrounded by homes, restaurants and offices, and though it stands out as a bright-white cross between an adobe home and fortress, it is the enormous billboard out front that belies the service inside. One side has a photo of Jay J. Armes peering through some blinds, a. A waiting room with magazines and couches sits across from the reception area, with the radio playing at a background volume from speakers in the ceiling.

The elevator opens to a room with dark wood paneling and long, low couches. A mannequin of Armes sits on the couch facing the elevator, providing a momentary diversion for intruders if Armes needs it. Christian tchotchkes adorn his desk and blown-up autopsy photos sit on an easel in front of him. All in all, the effect is like walking onto the set of a spy movie from the s.

On a recent afternoon, Armes, now 88, sat behind his desk speaking on the phone with clients in English and Spanish, clad in a pastel jumpsuit embroidered with the Jay J. Armes hangs up the phone, expertly positions a pen in an open hook and takes notes on a sheet of paper atop a file folder bulging with documents.

Another call comes in. Armes yells into the phone at a client who is at a bank trying to withdraw the funds to pay off a kidnapping ransom. He speaks with the person on the other end gruffly, counseling them that everything will be totally fine if they simply do as he says.

Armes estimates that his firm has investigated around 5, cases over the past 60 years. The work can become fairly routine — indeed, the bread and butter for any private eye is keeping tabs on unfaithful spouses, Jay III says — but his work has taken him to far-flung locales and each case gives him the chance to learn something new. Some countries allow outside investigators to do their work, but in some cases they have to straight-up lie about their reasons for visiting the country.

Armes proudly boasts that his life revolves around being a detective. Jay III, now 53, is the assistant chief investigator and managing partner of the firm and also runs Brandon Enterprises, a company based out of the same office that sells spy gear, body armor and firearms. The elder Armes says he wanted his son to be an attorney or a doctor, but Jay III had been helping him with investigations since he was in middle school and had his sights set on being a private eye. By the time he was in college, Jay III was a seasoned private eye who had seen more than his fair share of strange crimes and seedy locations.

He was home on a break when his dad was contacted by the Singshinsuks, and he flew with him to meet the beleaguered family. They had their first big break when they learned that Weber had happened to leave some suitcases behind at the Rasha Guest House.

The innkeeper suggested they try a local market, where they eventually spoke with a young woman selling animals and pet supplies who recognized the American. She told them that Weber had recently bought a dog and that she had recommended a veterinarian to him and his girlfriend, Tsom. But he was still skeptical.

The trio circled around the question for the entire day, with Armes and his son insisting that they were working strictly in the interest of the wrongful death lawsuit against Northwestern University.

As they were talking, a tape recorder hidden on the table under a folded newspaper loudly clicked as it reached the end of its cassette.

His hand shot out, but Jay III slapped it away. The hint of a gun signaled the end of the conversation. Took about 30 minutes total to make place over your plants and enjoy!! Last edited: Nov 14, IndicaAngel Well-Known Member. PatchKid said:. My scale model is 36x24 ]. Joven Agricultor Well-Known Member. Nice scrogs guys, Patchkid nice instructional, especially for a noob or the unhandy. IndicaAngel I like the way you laced your screen saving time from having to taught and tie each string.

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8 Replies to “Hanging On - Scrog - Eerie Invited (Cassette)”

  1. View credits, reviews, tracks and shop for the CD release of Discrography on Discogs/5(3).
  2. Explore releases from Scrog at Discogs. Shop for Vinyl, CDs and more from Scrog at the Discogs Marketplace.
  3. Apr 27,  · SCROG Line Pro - Duration: Scrogline 10, views. LED Grow Light Testing GrowLight Versus a & Watt HPS LED Grow Lights Lamps LED Garden - Duration:
  4. Oct 27,  · And so is the case of this week's offering, Planet Halloween's "Halloween Eerie Sounds." I acquired this cassette recently in a bulk buy, and it was the last one to be played and posted. The cartoony label with the standard jack-o-lanterns, bats, wrought iron fencing and tombstone held great promise for some serious nostalgic fun.
  5. Mar 12,  · SCROG completed for Gage Green Group Royal Flush 6/8/13 - Duration: Budologist 37, views. A Great Hydroponic System For Beginners: Pathonor Hydroponic System - Duration:
  6. Apr 27,  · A Scrog type net over the top of the cage would do more to help during winds, etc., to stabilize the big buds that grow through the net. The laterals that you pull through the cage can further be stretched out using twine or even hang weights like metal washers, etc. on the stems to make them hang .
  7. P SCROG screen of green (ScrOG) kits and AutoPot Automatic Watering Systems provide quick set-up, low maintenance growing for the busy grower. P SCROG - Portables, single layer & double layer 2x4 & 4x4 frames, DIY Screens and SmartPot ScrOG kits, all .
  8. Apr 20,  · to really do a proper scrog you should actually train your plant so LST'ng and fimming, super cropping is in order to make a bushy plant vegging is really KEy to achieving yields in any plant now with A scrog table thats what it is a table you here lots .

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