Get Er Done Part Deux: Whistler

If you’ve been reading since the beginning, you can probably tell we’re running out of steam now. Whistler is the 9^th date out of eleven on this tour and we’re running on fumes.

I’ll start with the airport. We get in from Whitehorse and we were about as fresh as a couple of whores at the Sunday morning service at church.

This is our bus driver to the long-term parking lot. Boys, take note: THIS is how you work a haircut.

Fast forward to the bar in Whistler, five hours later. No one wants a picture of their actual face, so we’ve all turned into Sally Field from Not Without My Daughter and taken to covering everything but the windows to the soul for photo ops.

We argue with the bar manager (Greg, here with me and Miche) about the plural use of the words “bottle service”, he somehow thinks that one bottle of vodka is going to get the 5 of us through the night. We make it to 11PM before the treats start in.

Turns out Kenzie’s got a male admirer in Whistler, Craig. He was nice. Real nice. Here’s a nice pic of Kenzie making him her bitch. Yup that sums it up alright.

This is where it got messy. Figures right. We blew the smoke machine out trying to flood the bar with it so we could smoke behind the booth without being caught.

Shit, did I mention that the party got moved from Maxx Fish because that place blew up and the reconstructive reno wasn’t finished? Well it did. So we had to be extra sneaky about all our usual dirtbaggery.

We couldn’t even get a whole 3 minutes of “Come Over Here and Have Sex with Charlie Murphy” out. They literally pulled the plug.

Cut to the next day as we take the last gorgeous photo of Whistler ever. After the Olympics bulldoze through here, I doubt they’ll be much left.

On to Vancouver. Creeptastic.