Weekend debacle

I went to the mountains this weekend and got a little crazy. The weekend priorities were drinking, skiing, sleeping, and eating, in that order. Some guys had girls on their mind, but I don't think my girlfriend would have been happy. And even if I were single, mountain town girls are not attractive. They wear lots of layers to cover up, and I'm not talking about the cold.
I wish I had some good stories from the weekend, but I don't remember all of them. I also don't remember eating much, which may be why I lost five pounds in two days.
Here are some memorable quotes from the weekend:

"That's what she said" - this was said roughly 500 times, give or take 100.
"lumberg fu#%ed her"
"herpes is only a problem because not everybody has it yet" - disturbing but hilarious
"no matter how good or bad this run is that they're missing, let's all agree to tell them this is the most awesome thing we have ever done"
"hi, i saw an ad for your Italian restaurant. is this a strip club or a restaurant?"

funny sign on the bus: STDs are on the rise, protect your gear. - this is for ski equipment somehow. I'm not sure if this marketing campaign is really working.

That's all I remember in 48 hours. Awesome. But on the bright side I got to sit in traffic on the way home while one of my buddies was trying to look at porn on his phone. And yes, it was as uncomfortable as you can imagine. Especially since he has a really creepy looking beard, and requests from other passengers to see what he was looking at went ignored. I'm not sure I want to know what he was looking at.

Oh, and we got a flat tire one night. There are five guys in a car, two are sober and three and borderline blacked out wearing ski boots still. The two drunkest guys change the tire on the side of the highway when it's dark and there are no street lamps while the other three watch. Is this a problem? Should anyone have said anything? A couple of times I could have sworn I was having a conversation with the tire. Something like that really kills your buzz. It's a good thing we went to the bar later, getting drunk once on Saturday was obviously not enough.

A little advice to the guys out there: if you are under 30, don't go to the red lion after 8 p.m. unless you desperately want to go home with a woman that is a minimum of 35 years old. We had to leave after one drink because you could just feel their eyes on you. The pressure became a little intense as you felt all of the cougars in the bar setting their traps. You could just see the expressions on their faces: if he could just have two more drinks, I could get him out of here without his friends noticing.
Oh, and a note to all you cougars: don't worry about his friends. They want him to go home with you so they can all laugh and make fun of him for the next couple of days.

And my last thought of the day: does a guy really deserve to get slapped if he asks a girl to buy him a shot so she will look better?