hand in hand

D

davixxx

Member
skiing and drinking. need i say more? i look back to my days of skiing at wentworth under a heavy vale of alcohol, (thanks to people who know who they are) and post the query; whats the greatest alcohol induced, ski related story you have.

i would start it off with a story of my own, but i'll let you guys kick it off, and see if i can beat you.

bros, skiing, hoes.... in that order, never forget

 
you don't realize how much the east coast scene and people mean to you, untill you leave. appreciate your boys and don't forget where you are from. push the sport and keep skiing, do it for jon's hot wife if nothing else

 
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URL=http://img72.exs.cx/my.php?loc=img72&image=100-0087_IMG.jpgIMGhttp://img72.exs.cx/img72/3306/100-0087_IMG.th.jpg/IMG/URL

 
hahahahaha...ferg i think i know what your thinkin ahhaha

davis, sounds like it is an emotional time for you out there in those little mtns...it will be all right, we shall drink again..cheers

the real east starts here
 
100-0087_IMG.jpg


 
ferg you are the man...

you should submit that pic to the film fetival!:)

i wouldn't know whos two double rum and coke and other picture of beer that would be...i do remember a rather large buzz at 11:30 AM...mmmmm skiing and drinking...aaahhhhhh.....must go skiing in my back yard with large amounts of booze..

this reminds me of a short story about the three boys and one bottle. once upon... .. 3 staping young lads hit the road in persuit of riches fame and wives (ok hoars not wives). after many long battles with red pills and our leading ace hanging himself out of a 180km box on wheels, the 3 young bucks arrived in desperate times. yes no golden liquids until 11am stated the keeper, that was difficult to comprehend for our heros. yet they marched on to the sharp bitter exterior to find they were no match. insted they turned back to consume, let us speck no more of that day, with sweet amber fluid for the top prize in their minds...it was then time for that one bottle we speak of...oh what a sweet sweet bottle she was, as we went south instead of north, or bearing of the slightest.

for davis to understand and all others to wonder....'what the fuck'

yours truly,

apollo the third

the real east starts here
 
less our flighting driver's knowledge, our curagous steed's consumed, and consumed. wrong turns were, at this point, irrevelant, unimportant and largely unnoticed. the tourtus, ladened with skis, jack daniels, and sorrow... limped on a hazey south-eastern course

rewind 10 hours: with hope of sucess great, a first attempt prooved fruitless and ultimately lead to the downfall of sobrity. with respect a long distant memory, and all hope of coherant, relevant speech drowning in the bottom of a mid-day plastic jug-like container... our heros mounted a second attempt at conquring the snow covered stuntditch, only to be denied by the compounding effect of hops, barley, and disqualification. the rockets dropped like a pigeon after a falling sausage on a saturday night sex romp.

 
i'm reminded of a similar quest for higher knowledge:

the year was young, but the month unknown to our crew of jesters. the weather was fair. our nimble red vessle, while small in size, could cut at a respectable knottage. and could hold the required supplies and provisions with only a slight list to the aft.

fule was purchased and we embarked in the midst of a wentworth valley cold snap. tiny red pills were stored safely in our 3 man crew's stomach linings. we proceeded at high speed until our destination behind the american flag was in sight. it was to be the start of an epoch known well to the seamen, but they didn't anticipate the severity of what was to come.

a day of snowsliding in temperatures not fit for man nor' beast prooved taxing, and quick way was made to the local liquor retail shop. jugs of gilby's vodka was the deal of the day, and several were purchased, along with other confection and required materials. and red bull, mix.

vodka, in copious quantity, was made use of. childern's 'commando' style headsets were found, and battery cells installed to power the communicators.

somehow, a week passed. only out of focus photos and small tid-bits of evidence pieced together the preceeding days in a fear and loathing style.

the boarding crossing, while succesfull, was suspect to infrations of the freetrade agreement, and various other import/export regulations. sail was set for a swift northerly course, and good way was made into the night.

our next port of call found us in the montreal harbour, where the vodka supply was exausted and bar stools were fallen off of.

the next morning found the crew in poor repair. the ship was readied for the long voyage east. whilist in the pilot's chair, the captian choose an auto-pilot feature, and instructed the firstmate, myself, to take over the directional controlls, while he caught some much needed rest.

burger king prooved an interesting experiment in gastro- intestinal capabilities. le Garcons Royal du Canadiane were not impressed with our cutters steaming capibilities, and issued our captain a notice of infraction for many knots over the acceptable rate of way.

our quest for higher knowledge, however counterproductive, was a voyage for the ages...

 
Jeff and Ross are on some sort of drunken mission.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

-Dan

Some people are trying to snowboard here!

Oh I get it. Sorry to ruin your day.
 
ya, i'm gonna snap loose-it if i don't get sliding. i think an assult on black tusk shall be mounted soon, as 20 thick white ones are at mt. tops.

 
those red pills aare the devil.

Sometimes when I reflect back on all the beer I drink I feel ashamed. Then I look into the glass and think about the workers in the brewery and all of their hopes and dreams. If I didn't drink this beer, they might be out of work and their dreams would be shattered. Then I say to myself, 'It is better that I drink this beer and let their dreams come true than be selfish and worry about my liver.'

 
All I can say is 32 empty glasses of beer and jeff in a hard hat and safety goggles. wow.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

-Dan

Some people are trying to snowboard here!

Oh I get it. Sorry to ruin your day.
 
jeff knows to keep safety first when running into traffic.

Sometimes when I reflect back on all the beer I drink I feel ashamed. Then I look into the glass and think about the workers in the brewery and all of their hopes and dreams. If I didn't drink this beer, they might be out of work and their dreams would be shattered. Then I say to myself, 'It is better that I drink this beer and let their dreams come true than be selfish and worry about my liver.'

 
ahh, red pills and ship shape voyages, those are the days to remember. Guys, fuck everything, go to whistler, ski with davis hes one hell of a guy. I am heading out in Jan. Going to reclaim the mountian that bitch slapped my back into crumbs. As requested, I will need the neccessary supplies Davis, so pony up.

Peace

 
as i told you in a prior communique, those types of pillows come standard at cheteau alpha lake. as for the bag of apples, i will continue my search

 
I'm going now that apples are involved!

***'You better check yourself before you wreck yourself!' As the race coach flees like a bitch
 
do you think apples and double-red bull-ryes would be anything out of the question?... i though appls were manditory for our ski adventures

 
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