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Message from the barstool


Smoky_Mcpot

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Message to Pope, Dwayner, MattP, Cavedog, Lhotse, Erik, Wallstien, Alex, and anyone else who will listen, cares or wants to ridicule.

Today I got up at 5am since so I am soooo bad ass & dedicated in my quest to be the best skiier in the NW and someday the whole planet. By 5:15 am I was totally stoned and honed and ready to kick some ass. I stretched for an hour and then did my laundry. I was ready for the sloppy slopes.

Now it's 1:30pm & I haven't skied at all cause it's raining and slushy shit covers the once fine white that covered the immaculate powder. Changing conditions are a bitch...life is rough but I'll manage to hold it together.

Power slacking therefore becomes an art form. I have to admit that the pre-noon hour bartender girls ass was fine, her eyes were pretty, and the rogue ale was good. She had some tattoos...

Today I will concentrate therefore on getting the best buzz possible while fighting the elements from the barstool. I will not puke...unless to make more room for liquor....I will ski the chair highly intoxicated and remember my conmrade leading grade 4 ice after drinking 30 drinks the night before to celebrate....

I had to get this off my chest because although I will strive to be the best skiier I can be I will forever be faded and jaded and destined to become a snowboarder. Ride snow brothers! and may your ice screws sink solid first time! I need to go headplant in some firm snow now to correct the copious malfunctions occuring in my synapses....

Samurai greetings from my barstool.

Smoky Mcpot

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Hey Smoky,

Lots of snow out here but not as much ice as I would like. I trudged 7 miles in snow shoes this morning ( wishin' I owned skis) in search or this 500foot rolling waterfall (WI 1-4 when formed) It's been cold enough but must have dried up early season. All I found was a long steep gully full of snow. (wish I owned skis)

I returned and had my favorite post workout cocktail...Cytomax & Gin! [big Drink]

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Mr. McPot,

Yes, I care, and by the greetings with which you've opened your post, I get the impression you care what I think about your activities. Now, I don't know you, but based on vast experience with characters who seem to share your values, I offer the following observations.

I think you're in high school, that's what I think. It's not your marijuana affinity that gives me this impression, it is your fascination therewith. Think about it, you love that little buzz, but even more you like the self-satisfaction you get from thinking that you're part of some kind of counter culture, the marijuana culture. For you, marijuana is much more than a little thing you do to relax; no, smoking a "J" is something you do to be clever, an activity with which you hope others associate your character. Hey, fellows, check me out! I smoke! Really, guys, I smoke! Cool, huh?

I've met high school kids who wish to be noticed for their usage. Smoking pot is their scene, and they make an effort to get others to join in. Most of these guys, when you get to know them, have nothing going on except this party scene, and you have to ask whether the drug itself is so fascinating, or is it just the bohemian hipness of it all?

In the event that I'm wrong, in the event that you've long since graduated from high school (but are still operating at that maturity level), I hope to be the guy to give you a wake-up call. What the hell are you doing? You're a mountain climber, and that's saying something. You're not a clueless little shit who needs to hide behind a doobie before he can feel like a cool guy. When you smoke, you're not part of a counter culture, you're not on the cusp of some cultural revolution. You're just a chump who's doing what a large number of diretionless people are doing: you're spending a lot of money, you're breaking the law, you're screwing with your health, and you're feeling good about it. WAKE UP!

Sounds like ridicule, but these are roughly the things that I had to realize before I quit my eight-year nicotine problem. Can 'o Kodiak a day, at about 3-1/2 bucks a can, for eight years. Do the math. Dont' forget what that money could have been, had I put it in an annuity. And what did I get out of all of it? I succeeded only in significantly elevating my risk for oral cancer. What I thought was kind of cool eventually became an embarassing vice, and it took 24 hours to coach myself out of it.

Don't take this the wrong way. If it's a slap in the face, it's intended to help. If you think I'm full of shit, I'm sorry I wasted our time.

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Smokey McPothead! If you're a kid, then listen to pope, he speaks truth. If you're not, and you're a full-fledged 21 year old or older, this is how I'd work your routine: first of all, you're never going to be a world-class skier if you're a big pot-head, it takes more discipline than that and the real competition probably ain't smokin' out. (From what I understand, that last statement doesn't necessarily apply to sport-climbers where the risk is low and the stakes for screwing up small). Secondly, This is what I would do: I would check the weather forecast the night before, and if it looks like it's going to suck, I'd set the alarm clock for 11 AM at the earliest. And instead of doing all of that stretching, I'd launch into my first Mickey's sixer of the day. [big Drink] Then I'd call pope and start talking about lunch and night skiing. Then I'd put on some hip ski outfit and hit the lunch special at the local teriyaki or Mexican joint. (I'm footin' the bill, cuz pope's drivin') As we approach the ski area, I get the ace bandages from underneath the seat (next to the wig) and start wrapping. This is to compliment the set of crutches in the trunk of popes car for which is are useful in a whole variety sympathy scenarios. (And I makes him fetch the crutches to my side of the car just for full effect.) I hobble into the lodge and find myself a place at the bar, close to the action, and start the blarney. Within a half hour I've got the whole bar feeling bad about my leg and I'm leading the crowd in pub songs. People start buying me drinks [big Drink][big Drink] and the barmaids start passing me their phone numbers discretely on the back of beer coasters. Meanwhile, pope has bought a pricey lift ticket, makes a few miserable turns in the slush and eventually comes in lookin' like a damp tabby. I point him out, the crowd laughs, and the party resumes. A little later, we get the hora dancing going and a conga line and everyone forgets that I came in on crutches. If pope isn't getting the attention he craves, I lend him the crutches and let him have a try with the latest refugees from the lousy skiing. The weather sucks but the day is saved, and we return again for some real skiing when the weather is clear, preferably on a weekday. Yup. That's what I would do. And yes, you ain't gonna be a world-class skier or climber if you're a big 'ole booze-head either! [big Drink]

aloha, Dwayner

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Greetings Smoky!

I wish you success on your quest to be ski ninja of the northwest. May the powder bless your inner self and snow bunnies chase you down wink.gif" border="0 Grab that chicks ass hehehe. Rain Rain go away make some freshiez for Smoky today.

More powder and be careful when you go backcountry! Super trap crust failing is da best!

-Cpt

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Since we be talking about smokin' up, to Smoky McPothead...just a couple of more comments. Seems like a lot of folk on this board, at least, partake of the weed. It ain't my thing but it's probably ultimately a lot safer than drinkin' all of them Mickey's. But here are a few reasons why I ain't puffin....

1) I know some dudes that started at least 25 years ago when it was big and everywhere and they lit up many times a day and never stopped. They're really nice guys but they're now BURNT!

2) Unless you're growin' your own, or know the source, there's a good chance that just a few steps back behind your little purchase there is death and mayhem in the equation (via smuggling, drug rings, etc.). [And there are (were?) places in Hawaii, little valleys and things, where if you accidentally stumbled upon someone's little plantation, the booby-traps or the "ranch-hands" would do you in.]

3) one word: gynomastia. a.k.a. "man-tits". Pot will bring them on. (so will steroids).

So smoke 'em up, if you's wants, but Dwayner will have to pass.

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Beck- if I wanted to ski in the rain I'd have a job, and go to the pass on the weekends with the rest of the unfortunately employed. Smoky wants powder and blue skies. Hence smokies departure from the ever drab NW scene.

One word....Vermont. Time to go ski now in the cold front that's coming through.

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quote:

Originally posted by Dwayner:
2) Unless you're growin' your own, or know the source, there's a good chance that just a few steps back behind your little purchase there is death and mayhem in the equation (via smuggling, drug rings, etc.).

Or a bunch of stoned Canadians hiking across the border with huge backpacks filled with bud and having a celebratory toke when they meet their pick up on the US side. No death and the mayhem is on the order of "dude where are my car keys, dude?" "Dude I thought I gave them to you?" "Dude I cant get this child proof lighter to light!"

rolleyes.gif" border="0

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