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Sundance Base Camp

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Bread is Dangerous

Surefoot Orthotics

Pilgramage Part II

Legal Drug Review

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Phat Tat

Utah or Bust


Going For The Gold

by sky

Think of the Olympics. Are you welling up with pride for your country, hand over heart? Singing the National Anthem as tears of joy begin to roll down your cheek?

OK, that’s enough. Stop with the America bullshit and let’s think about what the Olympics really mean to the women of Park City: Hot men from around the world. Yes, there are 78 different events taking place during the Olympics with 80 countries participating. And, according to some cheesy Olympic guide, that means there will be just over 2300 athletes in Utah. I’m not big on math, but according to my rudimentary calculations that equals at least 1000 hot men running around our little mining streets. Yippee. But wait, it gets better. These male athletes are also extremely easy to spot. Most wear jackets indicating that every limb of their body is in fact sponsored. VISA? Sprint? NIKE? No matter—we’ll take it all and won’t harm the merchandise.

I anticipate most ladies seeing the long list of benefits to jumping in the sack with an Olympic athlete: There’s the bragging rights; you may get to keep the jacket… or at least a hat; he’s probably not drunk and stoned 24/7; and you may learn a thing or two about Curling.

There are also benefits to the Olympian himself. A little effort in the bedroom goes a long way on the road to Gold. For instance, many chicks here have all the amenities of home without the figures of the athletes’ mothers. You know, feather beds, lacy thongs, no curfew, a well-stocked fridge, and experience.

Ladies, it’s not too late to study up on your international etiquette. Dust off that Italian/English dictionary, start chilling the Bavarian brew, and stash a bottle of Grey Goose in the icebox—it’s time to speak the international language of love. Welcome world! It’s up to us to prove wrong those nasty Mormon rumors about Utah. After all, we’re not in Utah. We live in Park City. Be a hussy and consider it work well done for the Chamber and the state as a whole.

LOCATION So, where do you meet the Luger of your dreams? Duh. Try the Olympic Sports Park, or a sushi bar, or on any street corner. Look for that big VISA patch. You’ll know him when you see him. Fire up that four-wheel drive and get your ass out to Soldier Hollow—talk about legs! Also, a good friend of mine was fortunate enough to run across the Italian Snowboarding Team in Chile a few months back. “It was the finest representation of the XY chromosomal pairing I had ever seen.” Well put. Halfpipe – here we come!

FIRST MEETING Conversation? Him of course. He’s not an Olympic athlete because he’s a master of idle conversation. This hard body is strong and fast. Let him know you understand and are fully impressed.

WALK OF SHAME I hearby announce that Sky will give out a hip, valuable award to whoever can document an Olympic athlete leaving their love shack in the morning without a vehicle and with that sponsor-laden jacket on. Pin trading is for kids. This is for the real gold.

SERIOUSLY The women of Park City welcome all athletes – males and females to our fun, funky ski town. We will do whatever we can to make you feel at home. It’s up to you to let us know how at home you want to be. Go get ‘em Tiger!

***Any single, bored Olympians looking for a good time are encouraged to email Sky at to be introduced to the coolest chicks around. Embarrassing you say? Perhaps. Worth it? You didn’t work this hard to sit home alone.