You know how it is: you drive 3 hours to your beloved mountain. You take the ski-lift, you recognize the smell, the temperature , the light, the feeling. Three hours later of non-stop skiing, your legs are burning, your old knee injury breaks your leg, you have no more oxygen in your lungs, your blood is boiling, a four years old throws snow in your face, a high-heeled blonde crumbling in the snow is no longer fun, the red light says it's your last lap. Then the Gods that never helped you before spread the clouds, the Sun warms you, Nightwish comes in your ear-phones, two machines make a brand new track, then you take one more ticket and say: Fuck everything, VOTE 4 WINTER!
