I have no brog in me lately. I have no snow, new bike, broken foot, nalgene cancer, bad haircut. Despair! How can brog as such? Brogs scatter when lights on. For you however, I try.
Brog underway:
On January 30, I skied Neffs canyon foothills with a leprechaun. I have nothing against leprechauns, as you know.
Later, Leppy and I enjoy a rare Wednesday sunrise. And then breakfast. My wish? More wishes of course.
Meanwhile, on yet another adventure we meet up again with the angry yelling lady of White Pine. She's a Man-Eater, you know. Watch out, boy (and leprechaun)! Because you know why! That's right, she'll eat you UP. Damn right.
White Pine also yields spiney treasures of the flying porcupine variety. Here in this tree you see Rocky Raccoon, White Pine Porcupine. Rocky is a blob of sorts as well, as you can tell. Probably Rocky Raccoon, Porcupine, climbed that tree to look for Magil (aka Nancy), and got stuck. I sympathize, but Rocky's an impulsive type and bound for misfortune.
Hours later IROC O'Lindy rages McNasty down a sweet line. We wrecked it for the helicopters that landed on us. Oh no you din't! Yes we did. I in particular was sure to fall down and roll around a bunch. Oh no you din't!
Later, Ol' IROC gave it to another slope pretty hard. We're not sure what he was doing exactly, but it wasn't pretty and not for brogs.
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