Thanks to Sue's Craig's List addiction and some poor saps back injury; she, Shelly, Steve and I, spent MLK weekend at Whistler. 7 am Sunday in our matching black spiderman base layers (I guess Steve didn't get the memo) and 7pm at Black's Pub. Skiied Whistler on Sunday, mostly Symphony Bowl. Sunny day and plenty of corduroy. But a bitch to get out of on a snowboard (world's longest traverse.) I spent a good portion of the day whining about how tired/fat I was (what's new), Sue constantly tried to trick us into black diamonds, and Steve passed the time insisting he wasn't hungry and implying we were weak and inferior for needing food. Shelly, meanwhile, cheered on the Hawks in a valiant yet ultimately unsuccsessful bid to return to the NFC championship game. Go Saints!
Then we PARTIED! Oh wait, we didn't ... we forgot. We spent a half hour in the luketub and Sue and I were in our bunk beds by 9!
dhp note: Why in the hell is that woman at the liquor store always such a bitch!? I mean, get over it! You live in Whistler, goddamnit!
1 comment:
Where the fuck is the short bus and their lunch pails!
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