December 5, 2023
Deadline: Ended
Winner
Keili Lefkovitz
"Dear Anne, Time Share not as advertised. Please pack your heavy petticoat. Yours truly, Chilly Willy"
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To ski or not to ski, that is the question.
To ski or not to ski, that is the question
“My thoughts be snowy or be nothing worth.”
“To fall or not to fall.”
“A rose by any other name would be as far down.”
“How now snow?”
Dear Santa, please help me find a happy ending for Romeo and Juliet…
kind regards Will..
My kingdom for a down jacket!
” I write this as i freezeth me butt off…”
“To pee or not to pee? That is the question.”
“Man, it is WAY too cold to be writing right now!”
Oh snap! I knew it! Snow DO be white!
Act 1
So this dude makes the kicker and then dumps it in the mashed potatoes.
Shopping List
Bread
Milk
Hat
Ear muffs
Damn coat
“Be plain, good son, and homely in thy snow drift.
Riddling confession finds but riddling ski lift”
To ski, or not to ski – that is the question.
Now is the winter of our discontent, made inglorious by my lack of skis.
Skis, skis, wherefore art thou?
Blow, blow, thou winter wind. Thou art not so unkind, as me forgetting my skis..
To ski or not to ski. I should have thought of that earlier.
Lawn as White as driven Snow! How I get off this, I do not know?
“To scribe or not to scribe, this Bard’s quill knows no chill!”
What freezings I have felt, what dark days seen, what old December’s bareness everywhere!
P.S. If thou hast still my North Face coat and cap, could thou sendth it hither?
XXOO
To ski or not to ski, that is the question…
‘Tia not wise to accept a ride from Marry McFly……
(Edit)!
Marty McFly
Note to self: write a play called A Midsummer Nights Dream ASAP
Merry. Christmas. Eve
The idea of a Winter’s Tale leaves me cold.
Now our well know playwright starts to re-wite his last bestseller on the slopes of the Slovakian Highlands, ” To Ski or Not to Ski…
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, for leaving skis
and bindings and poles below.
By pretending to be writin’ sum great play for the ages, I ride this contrapshun rightt beck to thine ski lodgin’s, thus not risking life, limbs, and of more important, thy mos precious ego!!!
Well this did seem like a good idea at the time (don’t look down, don’t look down!)
Inspiration is escaping me. I think they call it brain freeze.
Me wisheth I had a hat… or at least hair.
Dear Santa
Twas the night before Christmas… No that would never work.
“To ski or not to ski, that is the question”
“Alas poor snowboarder, I knew him well”
“Juliet, Juliet, where for art thou Juliet? Perhaps she is in the lodge bar…”
“Note to self, wear a warm cap next time”
“Farewell cruel world…another 20 feet and then I will surely jump”
“Ok, you win. I’m finally signing the divorce papers”
” Ah, the mountain air feels good. Now how do I get down from the top of the mountain?”
Dear Anne,
Time Share not as advertised. Please pack your heavy petticoat.
Yours truly,
Chilly Willy
Exit, pursued by a bear.
“Title….-A….Midskiliftrides’s………Dream….”
Warmed brewed tea provoketh leaves sooner than cold.
Jane, my sweet love, I’m confused, they’ve replaced the vines with these hideous iron trees
She waiteth at the Lodge,
Fair damsel of mine.
Tis true father Dodge,
We’ll bring the skis next time.
TO SKI OR NOT TO SKI . . .
Dearest Santa,
Kindly extend my gift list to include a lined ski parka with matching mittens, woolen scarf and fur-lined boots (one-size larger to accommodate wool stockings).
Affectionately,
Will.
PS. Kindly mark for early delivery.
Brisk and bracing, this flight I’m taking. O’er pines and snow,
round and round I go. Alas, this doth sucketh.
: “To scribe aloft, or to ski betwixt lines? That is the ponderous query on this literary lift.”
To be or not to be my foot! What i be is FREEZING!
“Dear Diary: I don’t think this outfit is going to work at the Après-ski” “I hope the lift operator knows my butt is stuck to this seat!” “Bill,” they said, “you won’t need a hat.” Funny guys.”
“Old fashions please me best; I am not so nice
To change true rules for odd inventions.”
Yet what is this thermal and down these fools do speaketh of? Note to thy self I must find outeth for in this time of Hiems thine manhood lays precariously frozen and fastened tightly to this peculiar chair.
Talk about the winter of discontent. I knoweth an artist must suffer for his craft but alas the things fools find pleasure in leaves me in utter dismay. I am truly numb.