Day three of the Aspen trip could have been wickedly boring on Colossal Waste.
After just three hours of sleep, I got up and all we had planned for the day was work and picking up our friend Sean at the airport. The hotel sent the car to get him before we got down, which meant it was time to chill in the hotel lobby.
Mrs. Howard. Chilling.
Mr. Howard. Chilling.
There was time asking to be killed, and upon noticing all the bronze statues around me I knew exactly how said time would be put six feet under. I would walk throughout the hotel and take a pic of every bronze statue that I saw.
One. A happy family.
Two. He may be on the way to hurt native people.
Three. Time to mine some silver.
Four. I have antlers, therefore I am.
Five. I lived here first and will try to kill that guy with the flag.
Six. I brought my goats with me.
A break from the bronze pics.
Seven. Look in my eyes. I plan to kill something smaller than me.
Eight. I find you boring.
Nine. Giddy up.
Ten. As a prohibition era mob boss would say, "Boids." Outside now. I am getting cold, fast.
Eleven. Bear! I am getting colder.
Not too cold to tickle the bear's nose.
Twelve. This guy is actually huge. No size perspective in these pics.
Thirteen. Is it me, or is he about to...
Fourteen. The plural for moose is moose.
Fifteen. Got my rifle, got my dogs.
Sixteen. The eagle scares me.
Seventeen. We will run with you towards your condo, members of the Residence Club. By the way, I have taken to pronouncing the hotel name in my head, "Sahnn Reshee," with a ridiculously exaggerated french accent.
Dragged Barbie outside for the standard, "Do as the statue does," pic. The bear, she is beeg.
Sean arrived and we zipped out onto the town for lunch. Along the way...
Eighteen. Life-size childrens, bronzed.
Nineteen. Life-size childrens, bronzed. The spell checker does not enjoy my grammatical play.
Twenty. Why put the monkeys in clothes?
Twenty-One. Life-seize, I should have put Next to it but she was with Sean halfway to lunch.
Twenty Two. A big-ass pig.
Finally, we make it to Boogies!
They remind us to not expect a full menu this time of year.
The bicycle is not bronzed. It does not count.
Boogies was dead, but rebellious teens were there.
I failed to take pics of the food. The chocolate malt that I shared with Sean was supreme.
Somebody thinks they are clever. They are not clever.
I promised Dave Keller to include pics of the empty ski slopes. That image hits his eyes the way a Scarlett Johansson pic hits mine.
People! There's two people. I should have waited until they passed to get another, "Aspen is dead during offseason," pic.
More Keller porn. There sits the Saint Regis, to the right.
Barbie, Sean and I walked down to the spa. I hope to spend a good deal of time down there tomorrow. Along the way...
One last bronze. Twenty three. Another bear.
See you tomorrow.
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