Colorado. The good, the bad, and the mullet.

Had the best time in Vail/Beaver Creek this weekend. Hated to "Leave the Beav." Which was the best name for a ski run ever. And got me thinking that I would like to name ski runs for a living. Some of my top choices: Baby Got Back Bowl; Jungle Fever/ Bieber Fever (tie); OMG!; It's Britney, Bitch; Mazel Tov! (I say, the more exclamation points in skiing, the better); Yippie Kai Yay; May the Schwarz Be With You; and of course, Don't Break Anything. The trip had way too much awesomeness to capture in this blog post, but here are some dirty bits. *Dude that got arrested for wearing ski pants at a bar after 9pm. I am NOT kidding. *Naked lady roaming around the sauna, doing...naked things. On more than one occasion. Disinfectant, much?? *The mulleted wonder who was all of 22 and who all THREE of us made out with in the same night. Oh the humanity. *Raging Republican cab driver and weirdo tennis coach/ski instructor who were name-dropping like it was going out of style. I don't care that you skiied with Darryl "Moose" Johnston. Really. I don't. *$60 cab rides. Each way. Excellent. *Amazeballs cinnamon-scented neck pillows in the spa that I really almost stole. I also almost stole a pillow off my bed. What. It's the Ritz. That shiz is NICE. *The guy-to-girl ratio in ski resorts. Winning... *The fact that I somehow only spent $100 in cash on all food and drink for the weekend. The secret? Stocking up on freebies around the hotel. Apples at the gym? Don't mind if I do. Trail mix and banana chips in the spa? Sure thing! Asking for extra water bottles at turn-down service? You betcha. I'm the cheapest bastard who ever set foot in a Ritz-Carlton. And damn proud of it. :)