Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Where do bad folks go when they die?
They don't go to heaven where the angels fly
They go to a lake of fire and fry

I haven't really slept since last Thursday. Probably only about 15 aggregate hours since Thursday night.

I stay up far too late reading, and then the moment I first regain consciousness, be it 3, 4, 5 or 6, I can never get back to sleep.

Insomnia would be cool if you were alert and normal. Especially because those ungodly hours of the night/morning are so peaceful. Sadly, this is not the case. It makes me feel strung out and hung over ("strung over," if you will), although the cause that leads to such an effect has been utterly absent from my life.

The lack of sleep leads to things like me starting with a thought about that cheesy Pat Benatar dance move from a video in the 80's and trying to construct a convoluted poll just so I could work it into a post.

And giggling like they do in the loony bin.

Don't forget to vote!
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Big Sky opens Thursday. Their base is only 20-29 inches, according to their website. That snow cover is a wee bit sketchy for me. It has been warm, sunny, and clear lately, which makes for an unhappy Dude. It's doable, but I doubt anything steep and nasty will be open. Probably just groomers.

We need a few good storms to come through while I am gone in Minneapolis and Wisconsin. At least I will be in great condition for the slopes. I have been a running fool.

It makes me want to grip the arms of my chair and scream "KHAAAAAAAANNNNN!!!!" at the ceiling while the camera spirals out. I am not sure what Ricardo Montalban has to do with the snowfall on Lone Peak... but you never know. He could pull some crazy Fantasy Island shit, turn on his cloaking device and sneak in behind Captain James T. Kirk to unleash a blizzard.

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My sister from LA is coming here for Thanksgiving. I am SUPER excited for her to get here. I am going to show her around this beautiful area and do a little exploring. Bells will also join us. We are dining at a fancy, old place called the Gallatin Gateway Inn. That will be a first for us, and it should be fun.

I hope I sleep before then. I have some pretty damn fun stuff planned. I would hate to be too strung over to enjoy it. I'd tell you what I have planned, but that would ruin your blog-reading enoyment later this weekend, now wouldn't it?

Catch you later, gators.

We are young. Heartache to heartache we stand.













If I came out to visit the Dude, and while hiking, we encountered a grizzly bear on the trail, I would:
Look up from your cell phone, irritated, and ask, "Do you know who I AM?"
Shit twice, die.
Experience deep, immediate regret for your decision to wear your homemade, raw bacon underwear.
Crank Love is a Battlefield and do the shoulder-shimmy/boob-shake dance until it went away.
Ask the bear if it has accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as his savior.
Wave your hand and deeply intone, "These aren't the droids you're looking for.... Move along."



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