I don’t trust anyone who says they like snow. It’s nothing personal, I just think that they’re defective human beings. Anyone with an affinity for something that will cause your smaller extremities to turn purple and fall off after prolonged exposure should be committed. Don’t get me wrong, I like watching movies with snow in them, and videos where snow is peppering the backdrop. I simply don’t like being within 500 miles of anywhere that’s had snowfall in the past century, which is an immense problem when you live in northern New England.
Someday I’ll move somewhere with less snow, but I’m snowed in right now, so I can’t move very far past my front door. This might be affecting my opinion slightly.
I Wanted To Go Waterskiing, But I Couldn’t Find A Lake On A Hill
Now, this doesn’t make a lick of sense, so it’s perfectly at home here on the Borderline Sociopathic Blog for Boys.
If every alpha male listened to the naysayers instead of their interior voice that tells them, “Hey, you jumped almost that far once before,” then we wouldn’t get anything done in this world. No one would have discovered that a snowmobile will run on Bacardi 151 rum, at least for a while; or that you can get on a Rose Parade float and wave like the Pope for half an hour, easy, before anyone catches on; or that you can brush your teeth with whiskey if you run out of cognac; or that go-karts work just fine in malls; or that startling prone sunbathing girls with their spaghetti straps undone yields primo results if you can run faster than their sunbathing boyfriends…
(Thanks to our friend Leon for sending that one along)
I’m A Borderline Sociopathic Boy. I Can’t Picture How This Could Lead To Trouble In Any Way
I want one. Hell, I want two. I know it’s just mom’s hair dryers on a stick, but it’s the greatest invention in the history of ever. Think of all the people I can annoy with one of these babies.
You know, it’s getting so you can’t inconvenience and infuriate regular old skiers just by snowboarding anymore. You can crash into them all you want, litter the pistes with your prone and supine carcasses after your endless wipeouts — they’re used to it now. Jaded. But now, with this thing, you can bowl them over in the parking lot while they’re still trying to loosen the bungie cords on their Rossignols on their roof racks. We can ski on the walkways outside their condos. Hell, if you supercharge the apparatus, (you know I will) you’d be able to crash into them going uphill now. They’re never expecting that.
Oh, if you’re like me, you remember it like it was yesterday: Just because your friends are doing it doesn’t mean you have to do it. I suppose if your friends jumped off a cliff, you would, too.
Well, apparently the old girl was on to something. Here we see the whole, sorry peer pressure thing played out in the skiing milieu. Just because there’s a trail left in the snow from some other skiier doesn’t mean that you should follow it. For all you know, it was Sonny Bono skiing with a Kennedy cousin.
Oh, and by the way: remember that funny face you made in the fourth grade? Your mom was right, it’s stuck that way now.