Admit it, you are a repeat reader. In fact, you need me like I need you, but you need me more. Whether it be because of my whimsical lyricism (see: Haiku last blog), irreverent storytelling, or self deprecating humor, I am happy to say, the kid is back. Football season may be over, and with the ides of March of looming, I promise to continue infiltrating your blogosphere with everything that brought you here in the first place. And with that, we go to Vermont.
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“Ok away we go, only thing we have on is the radio” Vermont, ten times better than skiing in New York, 50 times worse than skiing in Colorado or Utah. Still, Vermont I love your bed time and your screwy ways. I overheard a bartender claim that she needed 5 more people to justify staying open past ten, and for a very green state, they fry anything and everything. You also love Rhianna…so do I. I know, I don’t know what we see in her either, yet shes do damn catchy. Sorry, just having an A B conversation with the state of Vermont, so please C your way out of it. And that forehead, its like its own country. Ok, were done now. It’s not NYC, but in small doses, I love it up there.
I consider myself a very capable skier, in fact, as far as amateur skiers, I deem myself to be in the lower tier of the upper echelon. Now that I have told you how great a skier I am, let me tell you this. I ended 2010 and started 2011 with the assistance of ski patrol. Without elaborating in great and embarrassing detail why an adept skier would need snowmobile and sleigh assistance in his last 2 runs, let’s just say this, it wasn’t a wardrobe malfunction. After actually being able to get up and down a mountain without incident I know I am back and both ripping and shredding. Tree Skiing here I come, XL elements this way, lets go! The slow triple instead of the quad because it has no line but you will regret it as soon as you get on, I’m in. It was at Mt. Snow that I really fell in love. Of course none of these happened without my morning shot of Mt. Dew. I'm so extreme.
With the Crocadile Lounge (325 E. 14th St), now I’ll be the first to admit that I have never been there, but that will not stop me from giving it a ringing endorse to this place. Not only is the beer cheap, but they give you free pizza. Let that sink in for a minute…free pizza…cheap beer…possible HD tvs. Yes, It’s a dream. The only problem, its all the way back in itty bitty New York, and I’m on a chair lift (just go with it) way out in big bad Vermont. Crap. All I have is this picture (see below…looks glorious) and a Nelly montage in my head….misappropriation of lyrics coming…trying to resist…too late.
I was thinking about her
Thinking bout me
Thinkin bout us (us)
What we gunna be?
Open my eyes, (Yeah)
it was only just a dream...
So I travel back (uh)
down that road (road)
Will she come back? (Uh)
No one knows
I realize (Yeah)
It was only just a dream.
Thinking bout me
Thinkin bout us (us)
What we gunna be?
Open my eyes, (Yeah)
it was only just a dream...
So I travel back (uh)
down that road (road)
Will she come back? (Uh)
No one knows
I realize (Yeah)
It was only just a dream.
Yeah, 5 straight days of that, cruising down the mountain, consumed with Nelly and the Crocadilly. Just you wait, I’m going to get a season pass to that Lounge, raise two cats and live off the susistance of the pizza man. Yup, just a dream Nelly, just a dream (sigh).
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| Does not erode awesomeness: |
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| Erodes: Awesomeness |
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Someday I truly believe that I will be a good parent, no awesome parent, but sadly that day will not be today. I can’t manage my fantasy team properly let alone 2 cats that currently are as close as I can consider to my children. I have trouble figuring out how to make cereal, let alone working 5 days a week, slaving over an uber popular (and well respected?) blog, not to mention balancing the side adventures that consume me every few hours or so. It’s exhausting. So naturally, everyone is due for a slip up every once in a while. Now with that said, I make cereal properly seven out of ten times, perfect attendance in 09, at least 2 blogs a month, and single handedly made evil Barak (Mubarak) resign, kept the new Gyro place in business, and saved a child from a bad bruise on the chair lift. I am a man of the people. As a man of the people though, it is important that I associate with the common man every Friday and Saturday evening. If not for me, what would they have? Oh right, alcohol. Regardless, I returned to the bat cave in what could be considered very late in the evening or early in the morning with a few friends to discuss “politics” and after a rather intense session, they left…with the cat. Now this isn’t surprising to find either of my two cats in the hallway in which I have coined “Prison Yard Time” as they are allowed thirty minutes a day of yard time to get some exercise. Never though, have had an actual escape, but tonight was different. Young Scout defied the rules and fled all the way to the hallway before he was stopped. How she managed to bypass the warden (me) surpass security (my friends) and ride the elevator, again where were you security, and make it to the final hurdle before freedom shocks even me. Although she was finally caught by security and returned, I saw this in the paper the next morning, I believe the author may have exaggerated a bit. You can never trust a writer.
“In 2011, Andrea “SCOUT” Dufresne escaped from #131 prison. All they found of her was a muddy set of prison clothes, a bar of catnip, and a piece of string, damn near worn down to the nothing. I remember thinking it would take a man six hundred years to tunnel through the wall with it. Old Scout did it in less than three. That's all it takes really, pressure, and time. That, and a big goddamn door. Like I said, in an apartment a cat will do most anything to keep her mind occupied. Turns out Scout's favorite hobby was standing near the door out into the exercise yard. I guess after Boo moved in, Scout decided she'd been here just about long enough. Scout did like what she was told, slept on peoples heads. The other guard simply didn't notice. Neither did I... I mean, seriously, how often do you really look at a cats paws? Scout walked to freedom through twenty yards of carpet. Twenty yards... that's the length of of one fifth of a football field, just shy of a half mile.” (Source: NY POST)
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And now some Deep thoughts with Facebook status king Robbie Basile
· Shutter island Spoiler, It tries way to hard to be something its not and that is a creative movie with a twist, It is quite slow moving and a tad uneventful with a very anti-climactic ending.
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Random Tangent section of the blog:
- Remember reading rainbow, it never got me to read, but oh man did I love Lavar Burton and that song. Warning: Will be stuck in your head all day
- Remember the term rice burner? I saw one last week, a real old school one, straight outta 2000 yo.
- Quad steak is as good as advertised. Four times the steak!!!!
- Enjoy, first.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B8gQcVo2xfM&feature=player_embedded
Artistic Photo of the blog: Did not stay here but made for a great pic of Mt. Snow.
(West Dover, VT, 2/25/11)
Aloha means goodbye
- Foxx
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