Yes, winter time is here again, and what better way to kick off the New Year with a ski trip. After a long, hard process of looking for a suitable ski resort, I finally decided to book myself into the cowboy suite at Brokeback Mountain. Brokeback is well known for its fabulous snow, and capable staff. Upon arriving at Brokeback, I was greeted with innumerable complementary staff. I answered their questions, “No, I haven’t lost weight, and yes that is my natural hair color.” Although Brokeback is considered one of the premier “winter fun” destinations, I unfortunately did not know how to ski. Being on vacation I decided to live it up a little, ya know, “live on the wild side”. So I enlisted Brokeback’s finest ski instructor, Hanz. After meeting Hanz, he was quick to tell me some of the many secrets of Brokeback Mountain. “Ze trickiest part of ze skiing, little boy, iz ze sticky snow,” he told me before we rode the ski lift together. Hanz felt the need to sit uncomfortably close to me on the chairlift. He said he had dry skin and needed to hold hands with me to retain the moisture, so I willingly obliged. Hey, I didn’t want to offend the guy. After my adventure with Hanz, I decided to partake in a long and luxurious day at Brokeback’s fine spa. I arrived at my massage table and unrobed only to find that my masseuse is none other than the man, the myth, the legend himself. Chuck Freaking Norris. I asked Chuck how a man of his might could possibly be capable of being a masseuse. I needed to see his credentials. Chuck sheepishly admitted that the only way he had been able to pass his masseusal exam was to beat the living crap out of his test. Like literally. He roundhouse kicked it 3 times. I asked him why he didn’t just study for the exam and he replied, “Chuck Norris doesn’t have time for school. Chuck Norris is too cool for School.” (It’s true, Chuck was thrown out of school in 3rd grade for registering an 11 on the awesome scale, a feat only matched by Allen Combs.) “Just relax,” Chuck assured me, whispering into my ear. His grizzly beard tickled my earlobes, and as Luther Vandross’s greatest hits rose up from the stereo, I fell into a deep sleep. An hour and a half later, I felt like a new man. I made my way to the bar and sat down (tenderly) next to Hanz. “Great job skiing today little buddy,” Hanz said. Chuck Norris also showed up, shot me a grin, and sat down next to me. “I’ve got an idea,” Hanz said in a low, soothing voice. “How about you show us your room?” “How about a snowball fight?” I shot back. “Yes!!!!!” cried Chuck Norris. We pranced out the door and into the snow, and a marvelous snowball fight ensued. “ Wheeee!” Hanz giggled as he playfully lobbed a snowball at Chuck Norris. Like the mighty Zeus with his thunderbolts of wrath, an enraged Chuck Norris, foaming at mouth, hurled a snowball back at Hanz, taking his head clean off, which then flew and demolished the entire resort, mountain included. Chuck Norris broke Brokeback Mountain.
