Saturday, March 19, 2005
Mount Tremblant
Well, we're here, in Tremblant. It's been 4 hours, I'm sort of drunk, thinking a doobie would be good, and already had a few bites of tail.Beaver tail.
Yes that's right folks, Beaver Tail. The age old wonder that is Quebec, and it's fine affliction towards Pepsi, poutine and tail of beaver. The tail tasted of cinnamon and sugar, and left a satisfying stick. Gosh, I can't tell you how proud my nice, sweet United folks would be (even though my dad did steal my mom away from her fiance, I don't think they know the depths of despair like their fellow Canadian Anne of Green gables, and Loba of the Brahms trangle.)
We're right in the village, and have already played nicky, nicky nine door with Reba and Blowmar. Those two pussies are sleeping.
We went for a walk. I danced to the local radio station dj booth set up outside Diablo and scared small children and amazed science with the endless jiggle.
Tomorrow, I'll have my second caffe lat-teh. (It's all in the pronunciation, LA-TEh, you can't tell my how many I can have, you can't tell me when I'm cut off-[I had my first La-Teh this morning, and gosh, it's good]).
Ok, peace out dudes, I's gots me some tokin' to do. It makes the skiing safer (the helmet fits better when I'm stoned).
Read or Post a Comment
I'm a joker, not a smoker, you're a midnight toker...Gettin your lovin' on the run....
I think we should go buy walkie talkies...Chsssht..Over...
"There's a loose goose on your tail looking for some candy in al the right places and smokey's got a beaver tail aimed at your face...Chsssht...over.."
I sure do miss you LG. Hope you have a toke for me and the fetus. thanks. peace out.
wren