I'm highly suspicious

So, my entire job situation is completely on eggshells. Think Tom Cruise, hanging from that harness in Mission Impossible, with that bead of sweat dripping off his nose.

That's been me.

But with a much better nose.

And taller. A lot taller.

But without my buddy, Marcellus Wallace outside in a van.

It's been very stressful. It reminds me of Ted Nugent's Intensity in Ten Cities, (best album title OF ALL TIME.)

Check out the powder filling up my camera lens.



((Will one of you buy me a new camera?))



I promise to snowboard through ridiculous terrain, take pictures and break that camera.



I promise.



Conditions are re-donk-ulous here.

Chigity check it.



We are enjoying mid-season conditions.

Yesterday, I was riding under the chairlift, and all the dirtbags started cheering.

There was a foot of snow, and I pretty much pointed it straight down and bounced over the top of the bumps.

The powder was hitting me in the face with each turn. (By the way, it was 7 degrees. Cold.)

And, as the duders on the chair were hootin', I caught a snowed-over treetop with the nose of my board.

I tumbled end, over end, over end, over end, over end, spraying up a Nagasaki mushroom cloud of snow.

Which drove the dudes on the chair from hootin' to straight hollerin'.