triumph gives way to an end-of-season buzzkill.
That picture means nothing! Ski season is just peaking.
DAMN! I AM GONNA FIND WHOMEVER IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS CHANGE OF SEASONS AND KICK THEIR ASS(ES)! I WANT TO PUNCH SOMEONE OR SOMETHING AND MAKE THEM BLEED!
Well, maybe if I sacrifice my slalom bindings to the waterski gods I can ski until Thanksgiving.
Ok, I understand. I need to commit myself to a productive offseason. I guess I have to come up with some other blog topics for a few months as well.
By the way, the Kubler-Ross model of grieving is, obviously, just a load of psychobabble. I don't go through any of those stages.