The Whistler Diary: Day 3

I’m ba-ack. The trip home was hell. The bus was packed and the driver seemed to be pressing on the gas in slow motion. It took forever but gave me more time to take in the view.

I sat next to another hot boy, but I couldn’t bring myself to imagine he was my boyfriend this time round. I’m all sexed out (but I think I’ll save those particular details for my upcoming cover story). Don’t judge me! It’s Pride. If your ass isn’t leaking glitter, amongst other things, then you just haven’t done it right.

The circuit queens arrived on Friday for the weekend, boosting the village energy. Of course, you wouldn’t notice on the slopes since most of them don’t ski and are just in town for the parties. The receptionist at my hotel said that basically everywhere in Whistler was booked for the weekend.

I interviewed some ski-week participants using my deep-throating skills to extract quotes (hey, Barbara Walters has her tactics, and I have mine). I also interviewed ski-week organizer Dean Nelson, who talked about celebrating the event’s 20th anniversary and responded to accusations by some Vancouver promoters that ski week is monopolized and not all-inclusive (what’s Pride without a little drama, right?)

For my full WinterPride story, check out the upcoming issue of Xtra.

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