White Stuff in the Valley

No, I'm not talking about a new Radley Metzger opus, but rather the Winter Storm of 07 that hit the other day. Tuesday, actually, and I did not go to work. Nor did Urn or our other neighborhood friends. So we had a little coffee in the morning, watched "Young Frankenstein," and then went sledding on a ginormous tube meant for water sports. Which would later account for its ***SPOILER*** bursting on what would therefore be our last run of the day. Still, before than disappointing moment, we had quite a good time. But it was fucking cold, and I'm like 50, so that bramble tear happened at just the right time. Look what I did while you woked, you poor bastards!

Elsewhere, the city seemed to be plagued by sled-related injuries and death. We survived, although, looking back, we could have reconsidered choosing a hill that lead to the train tracks. And beyond that, the river. And between those two, more brambles.

Here, snow fallen gently on the nautical-themed strip club. I can't recall it's actual name, but I've dubbed it "Snatch o' the Day."

Here I slip downhill for some bottoms-up photography. I swear this has nothing to do with Henry Paris!













Finally, here's J. getting totally douched on his run.










Good times.