Spicy Boule Weekend (Continued)

In the next installment of the Illustrated Rendition of the Spicy Boule weekend, BP presents his take on:

A Very Naughty Lunch: Boules, Drinks, and Yes, I Really AM.

Spicy Boule Weekend (An Illustrated Take)

Because of my loss of camera on the slopes of Mount Snow on Friday morning - I'm sure no way connected to the 17 beers I had between 9-11 A.M. - we lacked all documentation of the weekend's trip - besides my expertly written narrative. To remedy this situation, BP has bravely stood up and applied his grand graphic arts education to the task. I present to you a preview of, Mount Snow: The Spicy Boule Weekend

The day begins - Coors Original flowing from the Rookies, Last Night's Baileys flowing from Kath

Rainbow Bright Strikes Back - A BP right hook to a Seen's left jaw from a Skittle Vest

Spicy Boule, Onesies, and the Snow Lake Lodge

The season's first expedition to Mount Snow and the lovely Snow Lake Lodge (SLL henceforth) started in epic fashion: Kathleen (our newest recruit) was puking in the parking lot, BP gave me a right hook to the mouth, and we all partook in many Coors Originals. Then things got really interesting.

The early season conditions were good, but most of the mountain was not open which was bad. BP was a giant skittle with a sweet ass rainbow vest, one which he received many comments about.

Lunch that day was a trainwreck of profanity, intoxication, Kyle sexually harassing the busboy, and one cold bread bowl of chilie that has christened the raunchiest sexual act ever devised, the spicy boule.

From across the mountain - all weekend that is - we were continually greeted by Crusten's lovely interpretation of "Kyle" which generally included significantly more syllables than one would imagine, and at a pitch that could best be described as one that would offend a dog's ear.

As riding concluded for the afternoon, dumb and dumber (Sweater Vin, a rare Vin T that only appears in mountainous conditions, and "I puke in parking lots" Kathleen) had deaded BP's car, and then spent nearly two hours getting it properly jumped.

We proceeded back to the exclusive SLL, made our trips to the fine local establishments (7-11 and the pizza place) and commenced a classic Boloney night. Many beers were had. Bottles of wine were "crushed." Finlandia was consumed. Yuka and Brian O'Brian arrived to check out the neighborhood brothel on the first floor while simultaneously terrifying, two guests, and I emphasis terrify. And the greatest cover band EVER played the snow barn.

BP also had the great idea of bringing up a dog collar that zaps one if they yell. Many shocks were given, mostly to bad interpretations of The Darkness' "I believe in a Thing Called Love." Last year it was snaps, this year it is voluntary electrocution.

Saturday was a subdued day of calmness and tranquility on the mountain. NOT. It included myself in a red and neon green onesie throwing POWER SEENs all over the hill and some sweet grabs. Kyle got a solid rail in the A and damaged his pride more than anything. DK was rocking the sweet green sweater he is well known for. Brita purified the hills with her sweet filter style. In two hours "Ring 'em out" Kath went from being the a non-skier - to a proskibum with the sketchiest style I have ever seen. She french frys when she should pizza, and does it with style. BP's 210s made an awesome appearance and awed all those on the mountain.

After a final run, cocktails were had at cousin's and the long ride home began. I ate a ton of 'toids and drank a bunch of eggnog.