What a time we had, eh? I know Wednesday was special, for both of us, but I'm writing to say I just can't see you anymore. Actually, I'm writing to say "Go to Hell." Go. Straight. To. Hell.
Let me tell you, making snow is not the same as making ice. Remember those old, crappy, snow cone machines that made granular ice in a cup? That's what was covering your fucking mountain. Top that off with your trail being cambered in a manner that makes every fall line head right to the trees, and quite frankly, you suck. The only chance you have of seeing me is next season, after or during a snow storm (at least 8").
All my love,
Dave.
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