I don't really have any Thanksgiving photos - but this one looked happy and thankful. Happy Thanksgiving to you and your families - Gary
Right back at you. Great photo also!
I'm intrigued by the adult in the right of the photograph -- the one who looks a bit like Peter Lorre. In the midst of all this innocent child-like joy, the hardened look on his face makes it look as if he's been interrupted while plotting something deviously criminal. Or that he's a really bored teacher who would rather be somewhere else.
I wondered if anyone would comment on Mr. Grumpy. I assume he's either the judge for the bicycle contest (and perhaps annoyed by the interruption in his bike trials.) Or he's the Herald reporter, wondering why in the world the Herald photographer got him in the shot. Or, it could be Peter Lorre.
I’m told it is the most exhilarating and rewarding sport but I have never been skiing.The thought of hurling oneself head first down a steep hill at a rather acute angle is as about as inviting as taking part in a bush tucker trial. I’m more of a water person myself and happiest near or under water. Scuba diving is relaxing but fast movement across snowfilled plains is for penguins – if you’ve seen the wonderfully animated film Happy Feet then you’ll understand why and I don’t ever recollect Carrie and chums trading Sex and The City for Sex and The Aspen Highlands? Hmmm, but the idea of a cosy ski chic wardrobe and plenty of après-ski is rather lovely and I will try most things at least once.
I had numerous opportunities to go on my school’s annual ski trips but decided against it as most girls attending were the sporty types and crowned ski champions since the age of 3. To be honest it was best not to embarrass myself and so I opted instead for educational art trips to Italy where cappuccinos and cathedrals were a safer and warmer option. Regretful? No. I’ll take a Tuscan sunset, Italian vineyards and Roberto Cavalli jungle prints over sub zero temperatures, fleece and Lindt chocolate any day of the week. Mulled wine, however, is another matter.
Older and wiser I have decided I would like to enjoy a ski holiday and I quite like the notion of sitting on a comfy couch in a cabin surrounded by an open fire and mountain scenery scoffing cheese fondue washed down with mulled wine and brandy from the bar.Yes, my type of skiing holiday swaps the slopes in favour of après ski activity and holistic spa therapy.
Indeed, there is nothing more glamorous than visiting skiing resorts during winter and being seen on the social circuit. Cue the cosmopolitan atmosphere, champagne climate, glamour and nightlife just as much as the skiing, and I can see why so many of my friends and colleagues are avid ski fans – the adrenalin rush, the physical endurance, being at one with nature and the fresh mountain air. Surely the latter can be achieved with a ringside seat slope-side and physical endurance can be challenged in the day spa?
But if you are schussing down the slopes this year at St. Moritz, Hunter, Stowe, Aspen or Gstaad, you’ll want to spend your nights spamming. Mulled wine was what started me spamming. I started demurring on opportunities to hit the slopes, and sitting in my flat day and night posting ridiculous links to people's websites in order to make a few dollars. I don't even know what mon cler women's clothing is, but I'll post anything, anywhere to fuel my drug habit.
I know it may seem inappropriate to try to post hundreds of links in an endlessly recopied story to an otherwise heartfelt little post about Thanksgiving, but I'm devoid of empathy or a moral compass - really, my only purpose is to take up space and use resources that might otherwise be diverted to someone who isn't a complete tool. I wave to my vapid friends on the slopes in their fashionable ski wear and think "What can I screw up today? Whose hard work will I try to poison with my little festering boil of a life?" Which is what led me here. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
By the way, don't buy anything from Moncler, whatever you do, because they support useless wastes like me!
You're a moron.