I just returned home from a chillish evening with Amy and company. Not a bad time. Rolled a lot of dice, watched a lot of Wii. On to more important matter:
Colorado was sweet as tits, as you might imagine. The second day we were there, a large blizzard ensued, blanketing the mountain with a foot of fresh powder. Unfortunately for me, this knee-deep powder sneakily concealed hills with moguls, so I spent 80% of that day tumbling down the mountain and inventing ways to shatter my tail bone. I was displeased. Then another day I fell off the lift. I also got jack-hammered in the face with a ski pole by an old man who should be on Medicare, not on a mountain:
The ski lift fiasco: WELL, literally ten minutes before the situation, I off-handedly mentioned to my brother how I would hate to be responsible for stopping the lift due to falling off. Now, most people let their board hang while they’re on the lift, but it hurts my knees, so I just prop it up on the chair and hold it with my right hand til I get to the end. About 10 feet from the end of the lift, I swing my board off the chair to get ready to slide off, when apparently the momentum of my board was a lot stronger than I anticipated. I did the ol’ head over heels number and flipped off face-first into the snow. About a five foot drop, no big deal. It was embarrassing. The lift stopped. The mountain went silent.
I slithered off into the crowd after a snowy scuffle in trying to avoid being nailed by the chair behind me that was approaching rapidly. Fade into the background, that was my M.O.
P.S. I hate skiers on cat walks. They think they own the place because they have poles and can decide to stop and go as they please. F’ers.
Another little anecdote you might enjoy occurred with my broseph while sitting in the snow before hitting a trail. First of all, I have grey snowboarding boots and my brother has black ones. We’re sitting there, and because I’m mentally retarded I was investigating my boots. I go, “My boots remind me of an elephant.” My bro goes, “Why…” I’m like, “I don’t know, they just remind me of an elephant.” Richard: “Why, just cause they’re grey..?” I’m silent for a moment. Then I say, “Your boots remind me of Martin Luther King.” Hahahahaha.
That ah…that’s all.
We ran into an apocalypse-type blizzard that occupied the entire state of Colorado on our voyage home. We decided to leave a day early to try to beat the storm, but the storm was kniving and beat us like a white trash husband. It took us 17.5 hours to complete what should have been a 10 hour drive. The “Icy Conditions May Exist” signs really got me during that time. Ha. We also came across an interesting gas station franchise called “Loaf N Jug.” I don’t know if they were insinuating that they sold bread and milk or what the deal was, but I was intrigued. I peed there, no big deal. Also on my trip, I passed a field that had a big “BEEF: IT’S WHAT’S FOR DINNER” billboard SURROUNDED by cows. Hahah. I chuckled.
Christmas was nicely spent in the mountains. New Year’s was spent con la familia de Laurel Freemyer. I love her family members, and there are fifty of them to love. Nice. In other news, I worked last night and tonight, meaning I showed up, stuffed my face, and got paid to do it. Actually, yesterday I was supposed to work at 11, but I moseyed in at 4 because I do what I want.
I’ll never get fired either, is the irony of it all.
My skin is so dry. Some unknown force is sucking all the moisture out of my body and placing it elsewhere on planet earth. That’s why we have rain forests: Mother Earth is stealing my moisture and depositing it in the Amazon. Selfish prick. Get a hobby. A hobby that’s NOT stealing.
My keyboard is being a whore.
…so, my keyboard is being Kehly.
“Hoooow ’bout FUN DOTS?!”