DO .. fasten your boots up. Why do you all persist in schlepping about with all the buckles undone and the straps dragging in the slush? All you’re doing is making it twice as difficult to walk, and it’s not as though getting around on icy pavements in rigid plastic boots was easy in the first place, was it?
DON’T .. teach your mates to snowboard. Look, I’ve seen you boarding. You’ve got your legs straight, your bum stuck out, your shoulders across the board, you’re waving your trailing arm as though you were trying to send a semaphore message to someone on the chairlift and you appear to think the tail end of your board is some kind of rudder arrangement. What on earth makes you think you’ve got anything of value to pass on to anyone else? Except possibly a classic collection of embarrassing bad habits.
Definitely DON’T .. try to teach your girlfriend/wife. If you want to dump your bird, just man up and do it. I really can’t see the point of going to all the trouble and expense of a ski holiday just to engineer a situation in which she’ll give you the elbow instead. Stop being such a pansy.
DO .. learn to carry your skis properly. It’s not bloody rocket science, is it? And once you’ve finally worked out how to get them on your shoulder, don’t go turning round when you spot your mates and waving them in a huge arc behind you, taking out half the queue for the telecabin. This isn’t a Laurel and Hardy film.
DON’T .. snowblade. I’m sorry, but it’s not big or clever. Not even when you stop short and perform a pirouette in mid-piste. Especially when you stop short and perform a pirouette in mid-piste. And lose the ridiculous hat – it’s just making you look like that kid in the school group who was voted to have done Most Stupid Thing yesterday and now has to wear the Twat Hat all day. What is it with snowbladers and ridiculous hats? (Thank you, I am aware that I am wearing a black beanie with a luminous yellow polar bear and matching bobble. This is a cool hat, for your information.)
DO .. get some lessons. Yes I know your mate taught you to snowboard last year. I have news for you – sliding down the hill in a straight line while switching from one edge to the other does not constitute snowboarding. (It doesn’t constitute skiing either, before the two-plankers get all smug and superior.) And have you actually had a look at your mate recently? I know he’s got this year’s jacket, a pricey board with the latest graphics and the correct brand labels stuck all over his clothing, but be honest, he boards like a muppet.
DON’T .. wander about with your eyes shut. Would you pull out across three lanes of the M25 in rush hour without looking? No you wouldn’t. So why in God’s name do you keep doing it on skis? I have plenty of uses for my left shoulder, and an impromptu crash mat is not one of them, thank you so very much, you tit.
DO .. engage brain. If you approach a blind summit it is less than intelligent behaviour to go hurling yourself over it at high speed without checking to see if there is anything or anyone there. Likewise, it’s not too bright to stop just over the lip of such a feature in case speedfreak maniacs come hurtling over the top. I know skiing is supposed to be ‘extreme’, but having your head sliced off by some tosser in midair is taking things just a bit too far, in my opinion.
DON’T .. shirk your responsibility as a parent. Yes I know your child ‘can get down anything’. We can all do that – it’s called gravity. The trick is to do it with some semblance of control and without using everyone else on the hill as skittles. I am also aware that he ‘has no fear’. That is because he is a child and therefore has not grasped the concept of risk. You are supposed to help him to a mature understanding of this, not boast about the fact that he is likely to hurl himself to his death off the big kicker in the park at any minute.
DO .. watch what you’re doing with those bloody sticks. I don’t actually possess a pair of testicles myself, but as a mature woman of the world I am reasonably familiar with them, and I’m fairly sure that their owners would not thank you for kebabbing them on the end of a carelessly brandished ski pole. There are people behind you in this queue you know – that’s kind of the essence of a queue really.
Now, it’s been lovely having you all and everything, and I hope you had a fantastic Christmas, wish you all the best for the New Year etc etc, but when did you say you were leaving? Tomorrow, was it? Thank God for that.