It is Tuesday, January 29, 2008. I have been back from Whistler, BC for two and a half days now and I have been hangover free for about 15 minutes.

It all started about 2 months ago when, over a few Mac & Jacks a buddy of mine said “Hey, we do a guys weekend up to Whistler every year, you should come” and I ignorantly replied with “Hell yeah, I’m down”. Then, a few weeks later I received the evite. I was still eager to take the trip – so eager as a matter of fact that I was the first one to reply to the evite with a resounding “yes”. It was on. By the time last Thursday (1-24-08) rolled around I was ready to go.

I had rented my board, boots and bindings (three of the four necessities needed for snowboarding . . . apparently I forgot to rent some skill). I had my bag which was WAY over packed because I’ve been in severe snow three times in my life. I had alcohol and my pride (gee can you figure out what I didn’t come back with – here’s a hint: I still have the bottle of Maker’s Mark.) I made my way up to my friends Seth’s house and by noon we were on our way making the five-hour drive from Seattle for . . . the time of my life?

Once we arrived in Whistler we met the rest of our group and found the two condos we were staying in. Oh, did I mention that the condos had two bedrooms and three beds. Cool huh? Oh and did I mention that there were FIFTEEN of us?! That meant that we had to split up into groups and in the condo I was in there were eight stinky, drunk, filthy dudes. It was amazing how we destroyed this poor rental property. We played beer pong, built a huge wall of beer cans spilled alcohol everywhere, ate nothing but frozen pizzas, pizza rolls and Doritos. About the only thing that didn’t happen was somebody puking in one of the showers . . . Oh wait, that happened. Okay, how about somebody passing out naked on a toilet in their own vomit? Nope, did that too. Well, what about somebody actually peeing on a video game in the middle of a bar? Oh yeah, we didn’t forget that one! And how about getting hammered, destroying the beer can wall and then covering the floor in old beer and cheddar by “making it rain” with cheese slices? Check! (I took care of that one). Yes, we had it all. Including the foulest smell ever. Eight drunken guys in a small steamy condo definitely made for a sweet aroma. I’m sure when we left they had to get a HAZMAT team to come clean up after us. Anyway, all that was great. Drinking, cussing and running around Whistler Village like a bunch of crazed baboons.

The one downfall, other than the maniacal demon that now resides in my lower intestine due to all the crappy food I ate was the snowboarding. I can sum up snowboarding in two words: F*#king and horrible. I slid down this mountain so much that I gave myself a snow enema. I feel like the abominable snowman bent me over and raped me AND the big frozen bitch didn’t even give me a reach-a-round. I absolutely HATED it. Before this, I had been snowboarding once on a pretty easy mountain and I did alright. Enough so that I thought I might actually like it. Then I met Whistler/Blackcomb Mountain – FUCKING EVEREST! On the way up my friend says to me that it should take “45 minutes to get down” you know, me being a newbie and all. You want to know how long it took me? THREE GOTT-DAMN HOURS!!!!!! All of which was spent on my ass or sliding down headfirst unable to stop myself. At the halfway point I took off the board and walked the rest of the way down. Yes, I am a huge snatch. I understand this, ‘been one since I was born and I am comfortable with that. I even snapped at a kid who tried to give me encouragement. Why? Because when you are almost thirty and you have been emasculated by frozen water and fiber glass the last thing you want to hear is the high pitched voice of some 8 year old who just did a 360 flip over your head while you sit in the powder, head in hands, praying for death’s sweet escape. That HAS to be the worst part. You’ve just fell face first into the snow, you’re eyes and nose are burning from the cold and along comes some little punk zipping by you at 100 miles per hour. “Excuse me Mr.”, “Hey kid, go f*#ck yourself!” (I didn’t really say that but God how I wanted to).

Anyway, to wrap up my trip: Being a drunken, farty mess living in squalor was AWESOME! Snowboarding sucked balls! Take that activity! Obesity wins again!

Oh; and yes, I DID have the time of my life.

–Jubal