Bulgaria Ski discussion board

I wandered lonely as a cloud,
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
Skiers and Boarders swigging bottles of Pils.
Beside the lake beneath the trees,
Paraletic and on their knees.

Continuous as the stars that shine,
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never ending line,
And they do this thing on every day.
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Falling around and wetting their pants.

The snow beside them gleamed so bright,
But this was not a pleasant sight,
For whilst I watched with fragrant wonder,
Farts rang out like claps of thunder.


For oft now on my couch I lie,
In vacant or in pensive mood,
I often wonder as the years roll by,
Was it the beer or was it the food?
And then my heart with pleasure fills
As I open another bottle of Holsten Pils.

Pamporovo Wordsworth