Chapped lips and a hang-over

I hit the slopes (no, not Asians) on bitterly cold Sunday. I skied about 4 hours in all spread out over the whole day. I witnessed some interesting interactions but not much worth mentioning. Ok, maybe just a small rant...
Reflection A:
Lucky me for getting stuck on a lift with a metro-sexual runner-up with no ski cap on with the COOL short hair doo that is pushed up towards the middle copying a pathetic mini-mohawk popularized by Mr Firestone while on the Bachelor. Mind you, it was about -15 degrees with a brisk 50 knot wind coming from the west. I’m not sure if he was trying to impress da girlfriend or Joe Pub by trying to make ‘local talk’ the whole way up an 8 minute ride. OK, big deal. You own 15 mountain bikes and happen to spend some time in my woods. Seriously dude, you lost me after what type of bolts you use to fasten on your kick-stand. I could care-less how you spent last weekend biking in the flatlands. I don’t wanna hear the I-wish-it-was-summer while I’m skiing goddammit :pushofflift:
Thanks for the kicks man; I almost had nothing to report on today.
At least the girlfriend was cool. Sorry, no pics.
Reflection B:
Lift line courtesy… (oxymoron)
Can you read this sign?

Good. Obviously, 95% of the Joe Pub’s out there have no clue of how to alternate turns in lift lines. Look Joe Texan, I know lift line stalls are confusing :rolleyes: but we’re all trying to get to the same spot. Throw me a freakin bone -- leave the ski rage for the highway and let me pass because it’s my fuking turn!!! How can I forget the ole adage: go on vacation, leave your brains at home.