Oh, the New York Times... You know when they are writing about drugs being decriminalized in ski towns you are in for a good read... or maybe not. Breckenridge voters recently decided that possession of small amounts of marijuana should no longer be a crime. No doubt there will be a horrible price to pay at The End of Days when the Good Lord comes back to discharge a terrible vengeance upon these treacherous heathens, but until then, let's have a look at some excerpts from the article, sit back, and wonder how this author ever got a job writing for America's top newspaper. We'll start with the opening sentence:
"High-altitude partying is a deeply carved tradition in ski country, where alcohol in the open and illicit drugs in the shadows have been intertwined for years."
Intertwined how? What is a deeply-carved tradition? Is it like a long tradition? I am not sure what this lead sentence means exactly, but if the author was trying to say that lots of people in ski towns take drugs and drink, I have two suggestions for him: a) just fucking say that lots of people drink and take drugs in ski towns instead of waddling around it, and b) how shocking! Is there not some war going on overseas that we could be reading about instead?
"For business owners ever vigilant about the town's image, safety-minded resort managers and footloose ski and snowboard vagabonds whose ranks have given towns like this a tinge of wildness since the first ski bum washed a dish or waited a table, marijuana is openly discussed as perhaps never before."
Holy shit, that is a lot of low-rent jibberish to cram into one sentence. I defy anyone to read that again and make a lick of sense out of it. It's weird that people just assume these guys must be good, cogent writers. These towns were first tinged with wildness when a footloose snowboard vagabond washed a dish, but now they are talking about marijuana as much (OR EVEN MORE) than ever before? I think my brain just melted.
About half of the messages were negative, Dr. Warner said, and included comments from people who said they had canceled reservations and would never come back.
Whenever I feel like my life has gotten a little dull I am happy to remind myself that there are people walking about this great nation who are so inept at life and fun as to make me look like David Lee Roth.
At Home for the Holidays, a year-round Christmas store, the manager, M. Musso, who asked that only her first initial be used, said her customers tended to be older and more conservative. The young and the rowdy, who crowd the bars when the lifts close, usually do not shop for Christmas baubles, she said.
If I was the editor, paying this writer's expense reports, and he came back with an interview like that (after spending god knows how much on a flight, and a hotel, and rental car, and meals), I'd have the bastard dropped down an elevator shaft.
