FROM: David Sykes
TO: Thomas Kirk Sykes
DATE: 4/29/96 12:37 PM

Re: Copy of: Storytime

Here's news that'll probably piss you off, you hobbled cripple. I finally got up to go skiing last week. Here's the deal; Jeri had been planning the ski trip for weeks. she was taking a week off and gathering whomever wished to attend and bolting up to T-town for fun and frolic in the winter wonderland. Brodi and i had been planning for just as long to go up and meet them Wednesday of that week and hittin' the slopes on Thursday. So, we're talkin' about it and talkin' about it, "oh, yeah! We're gonna have a blast, Jeri. Righteous!", and so on and so forth. Brodi comes to pick me up (jeri's already up there with Dave Moon and big Phil) and we head to Davis to pick up his skis and my winter wear. When we get to Davis, I call the CHP and discover that chains are required to get over the summit 'cause it's-a snowin' up there(fresh powder!).Well, we go pokin' around and can't find any chains to fit Brodi's van, there all either too big or too small. But there is a loop hole, the recording says that we only need to be carrying chains, it doesn't really say that we necessarily will hafta put 'em on. So, we decide to give it a shot, roll the proverbial dice. Craps. The roads really aren't all that bad, but those fuckers are making us put chains on anyway. So we pull into the Shell parking lot where ther's a guard at the on ramp making sure people got there stupid unnecessary chains on, and we pull out the too big chains. Figure, if we can just make it past the dumb See Aitch Pee then we can just go down the road and take 'em off again. We put 'em on and they sorta work but there's this big hangin' excess of chain flappin' around and we don't have any rope to tie it up with (dangling preposition). But, being the resourceful troopers we are we just pull the straws out of our drinks from taco bell and use them to tie up these big hankin' chains. We getem all tied up and Brodi goes for a test spin around the parking lot and they sorta work but they're all saggy and droopy and pathetic looking. So we decide to give it a shot, just decide to drive real slow in passing. Of course the See-Aitch-Pee has been standing there watching theses chains losers the whole time anyway, and I'm sure he isn't gonna let us through. Surprisingly, however, he does and we peeter on down the road with these droopy chains just banging the shit out of the wheel wells, twenty times worse than what the van used to do. We're down the road some and outa sight so we take the fuckers off and continue on our journey at about twenty miles an hour. By the time we get to the condo it's about 3:30 in the morning and we've been driving for seven hours and Jeri's already gone to bed. but Dave and phil are up smoking in the dark. So we hoot and hang for about an hour and then go to sleep for about three hours. We of course wake up before the Jeri-girl, the Dave-man and the Philster and are gone before I ever get a chance to even see my sister. so much for partying Tahoe style with the gang. I only get to play with Brodi and he's a lame loser. But Tom, man, Squaw Valley was nuthin' but a big pile of freshly snowed powder and the sun was out. Of course, I'm powder skiing loser and spent much of the doing forward sommersaults with my face buried in the snow. But it was cush falling 'cause it was all so damn soft. The last run of the day Brodi and I, the outa shape losers who spent most of the day just standing on the mountain dreading the forthcomming exertion of energy, were about to fall over and die. So, Brodi, genius that he is, says,"I got it figured out. Just don't turn and you will expend minimum energy. Just relax and go straight." And this sounds logical to me in my slowed, semi delerious state. And I do it. I go straight without once turning and when I'm going about forty miles an hour, my ski tip catches and I have just a huge wipeout where I feel my leg just on the verge of breaking but then doesn't, because luckily the tension was eased up by my ski splitting in half. So I hafta walk to the gondola, which is about a mile away, in snow that comes up to my knees. And my quads are cramping up again. But, I made it victorius. And then we left.
THE END.

Love,
Brother D.