My camera works again

Okay. I'm back. My camera wasn't working for a couple of months. It would tell me the batteries were dying right after a fresh charge and then shut down on me. Just this week, though, my friend's boyfriend held it in his magic hands, pressed all the buttons and everything has been working fine since. So lay your blood offererings or bowls of fruit or whatever you hookers do to Ben during your usual ritual hour.

This picture was taken a couple of days ago from a Volkswagon Jetta on the way up to Mt. Seymour in Beautiful British Columbia. Just a little ways down the hill, not so much snow. Once you start climbing it's like Santa's Village. I went skiing for the first time ever this day. That shit hurts. I got to learn how to manage all the sticks involved in this popular winter sport in a group with about 10 kids between the ages of 9 and 13. I thought those snow hos might know to separate kid and adult classes, but I think I may have been the only grown up on the mountain that day who didn't come out of the womb with a Burton one-piece and goggles on.

Anysore, my instructor assured me I made excellent progress and gave me props for my improvement over those cold two hours. I can't lie. I had fun. Especially when that pissy little 9-year-old, Curtis, fell on his face when he couldn't hold on to the tow rope anymore. He just lied there in the snow while skiers and snowboarders slid past him. He lied there so long. I was wondering where the polar bears and arctic foxes were. That was some sweet fresh meat right there.

Now I wear the badges of my day's efforts where no one can see. My arms and legs cry every hour on the hour. So send me your epsom salts and wives tales cures (say that 10 times fast).