the Captain hard at work
Why is this only about Snowboarding, you ask?
its been notably one-tracked around this joint lately which if youve been around the past few years weve been broadcasting is: “end of season predictable”. Yes thats rights, all you new scum: Ninja has been going strong as a dot com for well over a year now but before that, 2 years incarcerated in Blogger land.
Somehow this years’ end of season burnout seems more potent than years past; I typically take a weekend off each midwinter, grab a bottle of booze, a ferry ticket and a grip of pills and head to the Islands to hide out from the world, rest and relax. This year that didnt happen, this year we just kept on going and going and….going. Now its April and I dont think Im the only one who has noticed, how in hell did it get here? Who sent it and what does it do?
April Fools day online is stupid, its like going out drinking with your buddies on St. Patricks day at noon and expecting to have a respectable time. What Im really saying is on days like that I stay home and quietly nurse my vodka and on days like today: I poke my head out of my digital spider-hole, sniff the air then dive back down to the relative safety of darkness and peace. Twitter is throbbing with ignorance today, moreso than usual and Facebook is this gristly “thing” that has already scarred my day beyond repair. I used to hate Facebook but then I got over it, now its bugging me again. I think about why I hate it and I dont know the reason, I can only refer to it as menstrual symbiosis. Im leaving Facebok to the FeedBurning Nannys I originally routed so many months ago when I first dove into her putrid, scum laden waters. Anything that happens there has to happen here first: Ninja erupts with posts and then aftershocks slowly swell towards Facebook which then reacts by reproducing the very POST that sent it ito convulsions in the first place. Its technology. RSS-TECH yo!
If you need me I am here or at rage_x@hotmail.com. Dont get me wrong if your reading this from Facebook, as so many of you do: I like you, I really do. Do we always have to hang out at YOUR place though?
Whats next, you ask?
The Hives are painted and painted well I would add. I applied the usual obsessive attention to detail in making sure they will look better than most Hives, regardless of how they actually perform. My entire Fortress has been overcome with BeeHive component. Nodding off at midnight with a dead vodka in your hand is made even better when you jolt awake to see an myriad of unassembled BeeHive’s leering at you from all corners of the room (and dining room and hallway and kitchen). I am a man possessed, this much is evident.
What about the great Motorhome Saga of Stevens Pass, you ask?
Excellent question. (Im doing my own version of FormSpring here because FormSpring itself bothers the hell out of me. No I wont link it, Im bothered that much by it.)
The Lower Lot saga ends Friday, April 2. Thats tomorrow. I can only hope the Mountain finally recognizes us as Humans and not the “leper colony on the edge of town, scraping boils and scabs off our useless diseased flesh with bits of pottery and metal coins which they refuse to track in thier revenue streams thereby demonstrating an unbelievable ignorance in all things business”. Im either getting REALLY drunk with all my friends at my Motorhome tomorrow, or Im getting REALLY drunk with all my freinds at the Mountains bars tomorrow, in show of gratitude through wild compensations.
What about the Spring Rendezvous, you ask?
Smashing good times, more on that later next week.
In closing I congratulate with hearty fanfare my friend in the Great American West who has ended her proverbial drought and now proclaims with un-ending joy, the delights of being so “utterly and thoroughly used, as every woman doth deserve at least once in their great lives”. I salute you dear woman, and advise you take gusto to your new enterprise. You do of course, know who you are, albeit for this you shall remain nameless.
Here are Boards Of Canada, I havent escaped this jam all week but not for lack of trying.