This week when Meatball decided to take me for a serious drink. I had never had shots of Sambuca in a pint or even JD & coke in the same kind of glass with the colour of the JD more than the coke.
After falling in any single place with or without steps. (
Kalico) IÃve found the exit of the place and walked towards the bridge. When I arrived at the steep bit I couldnÃt go further and was falling and sliding down dozen on times till I got so exhausted and passed out in the middle of the piste. I was having fantastic dreams of spinning light and bip-bip music when the voice of a very upset piste basher driver interrupted. When he pulled me out of the way by my hair I looked at him with sambuca dribble on my lips, start to move my hair like in the shampoo commercial and asked him ìDo you know why my hair is so strong and softà because IÃm worth it!î The poor frog didnÃt get a word of it and looked still very shocked and screaming ìEspece de pÃtit bourre de connard! TÃes pas cingle de tÃemdormir paurve con!î ThereÃs no need to translate, he wasnÃt happy. The basher was literally half a meter from me and he probably saw me at the second.
Anyway I walked slowly all around the flat bit up to the Rossignol test centre, where all of a sudden IÃve decided to be a walrus. It took me 45 minutes to crawl back on my tummy to the Dahu, with burns on my nipples and my stomach and another jumper in the bin.
