XC Skiing and Death Metal
XC Ski Mission w/ dogs I set off on a cross country ski mission to clear my mind, but I forgot my ski boots. So now I am walking on the side of the groomed trail. I’ve got my late 90’s pop punk blasting from my jacket pocket and a belly full of candy from the Yule Night parade last night. I found the perfect spot in the parade at the first turn where every float would throw candy. But the majority of the spectators were waiting a block down, including all the children that would be my competition for gathering candy. Seeing all the candy thrown and laying on the street like litter, I reckoned it was a public service to clean up Main Street in my designated area and no one complained. When I put on my jacket to go skiing, both pockets brimmed with candy and I have very little self control. So here I am, My Chemical Romance screaming in one pocket and a pile of Hershey kiss wrappers in the other, plodding my way through lodgepole forest under a leaden sky. Not that it matters what colo