Last day here at Ski Kafka and the War Between the Sliders continues.
It causes me some chagrin to note this week that abortion has been made a little less legal. This will result in more snowboarders being born. I'm calling on South Dakota to reconsider. Let a Sunbelt state do it. You've got more buffalo than people as it is. And I'm also calling on the leaders of this once great resort of Vail Mountain to reconsider adding more and better trained safety personnel who know how to mitigate a conflict as opposed to the current ones who are trained to inflame.
Snow Cunt continued to escalate her stalk campaign against us two days later. Word around town is she had been looking for Old Man Pickle Nose and myself, the Ski Avenger, every available ski hour in the past 48 so that she could command the Speech Patrol to revoke our passes for the crime of using foul language to explain safety tips to a 20-year old dyke who almost broke our necks. God!
She spotted us in the ganjola line and bee-lined it for the nearest Ski/Speech Patroller for continued harrassment. Her daddy, yasee, well, it turns out, "works for the mountain" and "knows the CEO of the resort personally," and blah de blah de "you're in trouble now" de blah de blah de blah.
Well, it also turns out that the Wachs name has way more political juice in the Vail Valley than the Snow Cunt family name does. Turns out that SC's daddy is a middle manager in Time Share Sales or something, and was told by his boss, the CEO Who He Knows Personally, to sharpen and wax his runaway daughter before they all got snowplowed out of the industry, because this Wachs fellow has been coming here for 30 years, dumbass.
End of story. But not really.
The Ski Avenger is standing by sign on the top of a slope. Waiting for others to catch up. Boarder picks a line between Ski Avenger and the sign, approximately 6 feet of space, and blasts through going 35-40 mph. An accidental flick of the Ski Avenger's pole at the last second sends this young daredevil ass over tea cups down the slope for a cozy stay at the Meds Lodge. Say hi to Bode!
Your humble Ski Avenger takes his first and only spill of the week, leaving a small yard sale in his wake over the uphill 30 yards.
Concerned young boarder standing near skis and poles left uphill kindly asks, "Dude, are you OK?"
"Yes. Could you hand me..."
"Cool." And off to the movable party he goes.
Cool. The opposite temperature of the Ski Avenger's legs and mood after walking back uphill the 30 yards at a 53 degree pitch to get his equipment that this most etiquette-minded of snowboarders optioned to let Ski Avenger handle.
So now you will understand...Incident 4:
T-shirt shopping in the village, and the Ski Avenger sees this shirt.
It's not paranoia when they're really after you.
The Ski Avenger believes that revenge is a dish best served smelly, and in keeping with that motto, Ski Avenger took the pictured shirt into the changing room in the back, lowered his ski jammies, cleansed his moist behind with it, and placed it back on the hanger and the rack. Happiness is knowing that somewhere out there is a snowboarder wearing your ass DNA on his cleverly stenciled chest.
Here's what my line of T-shirts will say:
The Ski Avenger is Born. Repaying the love since 2006.