I know from memory that there is a thread for this. The euro vs. merca vs. midwest. But I can't find it. It's actually a really hard search term to effectivly go for. But anyway, the gist is that 'mercans can't line them up and the euro's are digital.
In my experience, from skiing in many many countries, yes we are not the fuckwits. There is a cultural system.
It's quite nice actually.
Check this shit out, I actually participated in this today, for good reason. I love it. It's like self coat check as close as you can get before walking or skating your way up.
I love this communist overloard. I feel the lick on the top skin of putun's 3rd eye.
BTW, you euros and argies can jump up and suck all my farts. Especially the french. Fuck you assholes. This is the ritz, have some respect. Bitches. Basic.
Afterthought: It's kinda funny to see some tele moemnts in that group, but I got some free services at the ritz and I was happy.
And I just realized that I put my poles upright. ooooops. I'll cry and have a moment and get over it. My friend walking is way over 70 and should be forgiven on pure fucking life credits. I failed.
Do you know what was the coolest thing? I skied with one of my best friends. That is something that can not be replaced.
So, this morning, we are set to go at 10, just to let it warm up a bit. I set my alarm for 9.
It goes off.
I get up, not awake.
Take a piss, oops, leave a piss,
Walk to the door and open in and jump into my sleeping bag.
10: knock knock open, hey!
Me: I'm fucking asleep.
Gary: Hey, want to ski today.
Me: Oh Gary, this is going to be great (completely asleep)
10 whole minutes later standing on top of me in full ski gear:
Gary: SO DO YOU WANT TO SKI TODAY?
Me: oh shit, that wasn't a dream, yes, of course, holy fuck, morning shit,and no tea, just roll.
RESULT: Great day. Yeah, I failed, but he can't walk and I shuttled the fuck out of him and we both skied a shit ton of vert and we both laughed, smiled, and hugged.
Pretty amaze. This is why skiing keeps me alive. Beyond him asking if I would take care of his place when he dies.
Even when I have cried harder than a child who was completely abandoned, which I have felt, many more times than I did anticipate but am comfortable with at this point, I can't really think about a bad ski day, Sure: shit snow, weather, fucked up avi shit, fucked up people, snow; but I need to constantly remember to tell myself, that there is no better place to be other than on a couple planks of wood and smelling.
I smell that shit. Do you? From your breakie sammie to the sound of the two planks clinking? I do.
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