This past February, Mel and Em where nice enough to let me tag along on their Newsweek-only ski trip up to Killington, VT. I think this is an annual thing for them (no?), but this time they went with a new formula: take your average weekend, add a hot car, some laid-ees and a couple snowboard jocks like ourselves. We're such players. Or, not.

ps: I am writing this on like three months hindsight. Bear with me as I try to piece the weekend together and sorry in advance in case some of this stuff never happened.


Perhaps the bestest part of the trip was the fact that Mel's friend Glenn was able to score a brand new Hummer H2 for the trek up (he reviews cars for magazines - sweet gig).

You think I'd look all stoked and all - me, the H2, and the two ladies - but instead I look like I got coldcocked in the face. Sweet. Not sure where Ja Rule went. I think he's digicam shy.


Yup, that's 10.9 miles to the gallon. For a 6 hour trip. It's got On-Star too, who we called a few times to find some random place to eat in CT and a Friendly's on the way home.


More Hummer pics. I'm such a dork. You'd think a truck that size would at least be able to hold our shit. No such luck - look at how much room the stoopid spare tire (left) takes up! We could barely fit bags and gear for the four of us.


Men, wooing over Vortec 6000 V8 6.0 liter with cast iron block, cast aluminum cylinder heads, and sequential fuel injection.

Note: Er, don't worry. I copy and pasted that.


So, we drove up on Friday night, neglected to buy beer on the way and were thus welcomed to VT with a "Sorry, we don't sell beer after midnight" when we rolled into the Killington convenience store around 12:15am in the H2. (bling, bling)

Let's see, I don't even remember how many days we skied... it wasn't a long weekend, and we went up on a Friday, but I think we only skied one day. Yeah, that's right - we skied Saturday then skipped out on Sunday since we were out so late Saturday night (scroll down) and so sore from Saturday afternoon. Also, if I remember correctly, the conditions we're pretty iced up and it must have been pretty cold out based on how bundled up we are.

Anyway, left to right: Suzanne, Mel, Chris and Em. We're all superstars.


Okay, so now were getting somewhere... we skied on Saturday then went out on Saturday night. The thing about Killington which kind of sucks is that you can't walk anywhere - if you want to go to the bars or the store or whatever you have to call the bus to come pick you up.

Anyway, after ordering food in, trying unsuccessfully so start a fire and dusting off a thirty pack we motivated to the "hottest club at Killington" called, er, I forget (three months hindsight!). Oh, another thing that's bullshit about Killington is that every club has not only a huge line, but also a huge cover. I'm not talking $5 here, this place hit us up for $20 at the door. I mean, what else are we going to do - call the bus and go somewhere else?

So, we're inside. There's a band playing crappy "modern rock" covers (er, I don't even know the names of bands to give you an example). Watch out for the generic "look at all these people!" shot because...


... it gets more interesting when zoomed in. Chris and Kerry, Soul Train style. Dumps like a truck, what what!


Oh, and here's me, Chris and Mel.


Me, same pose, only 2 hours later.... and this time with special guest John Maratea! (er, a friend from college who just happened to be at the bar). If I remember correctly, I also ran into special guest Jeff Schneller (another kid from Syracuse). Random.

ps: This girl I was seeing once told me my nostrils were bigger than my eyes. Man, I think she's right.

Mel's got this thing where if you give her a few drinks, all she wants to do is take the perfect photo. (Some of you may remember a similar montage from The Steamboat Story)

Anyway, here's me and Mel. x 6.


2:15am - Late night. Somehow, Mel and I got split up from the rest of the crew. We left the bar around 2am and flagged down one of the $5 shuttle vans to take us home. Mel and I hop in the back, knowing that the place we're staying is only 5 minutes away and thus expecting to be one of the first stops, but unlucky us, the van takes a right as it leaves the parking lot making it pretty obvious that we'll be the last ones off this crazy train.

This cute little couple was sitting behind us. When the driver asked where we needed to be dropped off, and Mel yells out "Englewood!" the kid on the left follows up with "Tanglewood!" (said in your bestest Snoop Dogg voice). Come'on - work with me - that's fucking funny! (or maybe you just had to be there)


2:43am - Lots of drama on the bus... in addition to this one pompous dick who refused to tip our driver, we had these drunk, underage hooligans riding with us who were giving the driver a hard time. As we finished dropping off round 1 of guests and passed by the bar (again) to pick up round 2, the kids hopped out, slammed the door and broke the window (can you even see it in this pic?). The driver gets out, the kids run off, one of them is clotheslined by one of the bouncers and promptly put in a headlock. The police come, people are yelling and fighting, Mel and I quietly get in another van and head home.


3:23am - Late night. Busting out the Jeff Brushie craps table snowboard deck and a few hundred rounds of asshole.


3:27am - Me. Fading. Drinking water.


3:31am - "Domino, motherfucker"


3:38am - Sleepy.


Sunday morning - See, now it's all coming back to me... mainly why we skipped out on skiing that next day. Sunday morning we dined on a delicious meal of breakfast burritos and belgian waffles. If I remember correctly, we left with one of their menus - which was riddled with grammatical errors and marked up in red pen by Mel and her editorial friends by the end of the meal. Oh, we're all such dorks. (Someone remind me to get on Mel to get that menu back).

In any case, left to right: Suzanne, Glenn, Kerry, Mel, me, Emily, Chris.

An uneventful ride home. Boys driving. Girls sleeping. 800 gallons of gas consumed.


Art, motherfucker.