For those of you who do that thing called.. um... sleep? Yeah, sleep. For those of you who do that, Happy Saturday! For me, it's still Tuesday, but I digress...
Last night, @Jennicide (aka "JAWS") (aka Jennifer Leigh) and I hung out for a while, ranting & raving and exchanging horror stories about drawing to 2 outs, bricking 26 outers, and not being able to fold. <--- All code phrases for other issues, but frankly, the real details are none of your fucking business. Anyhooooo... that bitch makes me laugh. She also makes me think. She gave me some food for thought, and I PIGGED OUT on it. (Thanks, JAWS... you're the best.)
While giving serious consideration to some of the things Jennicide suggested I consider, I was mindlessly going through old blog post drafts and stumbled upon this true story from about 2 summers ago. Reading it reminded me that I'm not exactly a stranger to making bad decisions... and what I (ding! ding! ding! *epiphany*) realized is that in life, just like in poker, even though surrendering sucks balls, you can save yourself a boatload of tilt if you muck your hand as soon as you know you're beat. And you know what sucks bigger and hairier balls than folding?? Drawing dead.
So without further adieu, here it is... the silly little story that will change my life from today forward. Enjoy!
Okay, kiddies... so at long last, here's my camping story - enjoy it. Or don't. Frankly, I'm way too hot to give a shit.
So as you all know, I had another one of my infamous "Who Is She Kidding, This Is Going To Be A Disaster" ideas... This one was entitled "Wouldn't It Be Great If We Went Camping - But Not Just Regular Camping. Wouldn't It Be Great If We Spent A Week In The Total Wilderness With Bears And Wolves And Who Gives A Shit That It's Been Raining For Nineteen Weeks Straight, This Is Gonna Be Awesome!"
Skipping the gristle and getting straight to the bone, it was by far one of my worst Great Ideas ever.... here's how it all went down:
Putting all our trust in The Website That Fucked Me Over was my second most moronic idea of all time, because by following the directions they gave, we were taken so far off our course that we ended up arriving to the mountain 4 hours late. Guess what kids? 4 hours late translates to climbing a mountain (4400' elevation by the way), hiking a mile and a half deep into the forest and setting up a frigging tent in the dark. The pitch dark. The scary, deep in the woods, up in a fucking mountain, hey did I just hear a wolf howl, I can't see JACK SHIT type of dark. Yeah.
MUST...HAVE...FIRE. Guess what kids? Can't make fire without wood. Guess what else kids?? Every piece of wood in the forest is wet. I manage to find a log that's only about 60% saturated and begin chopping with my itty bitty Playskool-esque hatchet and (no word of a lie) THREE HOURS later, I had managed to chop a tiny hunk out of my new arch nemesis, the damp log.
- wake up FREEZING under my towel blanket
- four more total hours wasted hiking back down and back up then back down and back up and back down mountain to the car in order to retrieve remaining gear
- managed to get small fire lit - wood is still soaking wet
- attempt at making burgers failed (I knocked the grill grate over while fleeing prehistoric sized mosquito and burgers got ruined)
- stuck hot dogs on the end of sticks and ate those instead
- begin 2nd attempt at chopping firewood (which comes to a screeching halt when I realize I've got five open blisters from Day 1's firewood chopping fiasco)
- hike back down mountain and drive 30 miles to buy firewood
- torrential rain starts at 6 pm and DOES NOT STOP
- decide to just go to sleep, telling ourselves "You know what? The hard part is over... our fun can start tomorrow."
- wake up in middle of night to sloshing sounds... tent is leaking
- turn on lantern... we're sitting in a 3 inch puddle
- sleeping bags and entire backpacks including clothing SOAKED
- thunder, lightening and rain does not let up
- Mr. Vagina huddles up in a corner of the tent while I bail out the water.
Laziness and homosexual tendencies - there's something penicillin won't cure
in a fella, right Mr. Vagina???
Yeah. The hard part's over alright.
- Realizing I'm on my hands and knees covered in mud, bugs and sweat while Mr.Vagina is standing above me in a squeaky clean rain slicker, I state the obvious: "You're a fucking pussy, Mr. Clean... GET THE FUCK DOWN HERE AND HELP ME WITH THIS DIGGING!!!!!"
- Mr. Vagina responds with "Every team has a laborer and an engineer. I'M THE ENGINEER."
- I throw digging tool at Mr. Vagina and decide that I will poison him later.
- Rain stops FINALLY and Mr. Vagina gets a fire lit
- Successfully make burgers and dogs... eat like kings, laughing about the
- Hiked to a spot on Baldface Mountain called "The Emerald Pool"... Jumped off a 30 foot cliff into the natural spring. Had the time of my life until I realized Mr. Vagina had no intentions of jumping too. Jumped (solo) once more, forcing Mr. Vagina to stand on an adjoining cliff to snap the action shot. Decided this wasn't any fun without a jumping partner.
- Pissed, begin hiking back to site. Asked Mr. Vagina if he was afraid his tampon would have gotten wet if he had jumped.
- Once back at site, I rolled a huge doob while Mr. Vagina got the fire roaring better than he had the whole trip... Sat back, smoked & watched the dancing flames.
- Begin hearing wolves howling...
- Howling seems to be coming from VERY VERY close proximity to site - start panicking
- Get ambushed by a spinning animal of unknown origin when it runs head first into our dining canopy
- Scream and run like little girls, never finding out what the animal was or where it went.
- Paranoid for the next 2 hours, Mr. Vagina refuses to turn off blinding lantern so we can enjoy the campfire.
- I Finally convince Mr. Vagina to turn off said blinding lantern, but agree to let him scan the woods every 40 seconds with Bat Signal like flashlight.
- During one of his scans, Mr. Vagina jumps up and yells "IT'S RUNNING RIGHT AT US!" but does not specify what is running at us or from which direction it is running. BY FAR THE SCARIEST MOMENT IN MY ENTIRE LIFE.
- Turns out Mr. Vagina is just a pink dress wearing pussy and it was nothing.
- We make S'mores and laugh about what a disaster this whole thing is.
- It starts to rain again and I'm not laughing anymore.
- Wake up realizing that I left my shoes outside the tent overnight and they are now a wading pool for mosquitoes.
- Put plastic bags over my feet and wear wet shoes anyway, risking the jungle rot.
- Dry firewood is now wet because Mr. Vagina moved the tarp I had covering it.
- I throw marshmallow stick at Mr. Vagina, again reminding him of his mind blowing incompetence.
- Hike BACK DOWN mountain and make another 30 mile drive to get more dry firewood. Lug the 60 pounds of wood back up mountain.
- Slip on moss covered rock while lugging wood up mountain and sprain my right hand. In an attempt to rescue me from falling, Mr. Vagina falls as well, busting his shin wide open. Because of our injuries, it takes 3 trips to get the wood to the top of the mountain.
- Mr. Vagina tries and tries and tries but cannot get fire lit.
- I tell Mr. Vagina "I'm soooo glad you came - too bad your father did!" and storm off, announcing that I'm going home and leaving him there alone to become bear food.
- Got pissed because he wasn't scared even a little bit.... Decide I need to take a short walk to cool down. Grab my flashlight and head for the path.
- Come face to face on path with snarling animal, which I could only assume was a wolf. Turns out it was a dog, but snarling nonetheless... Dog shows it's teeth and inches toward me, I raise my Mag Light and ready myself to smash its head in.
- Dog's owner comes prancing around the bend in her fucking L.L. Bean gear and tells me "You need to stop shining the light in her eyes." IS SHE KIDDING ME???? I tell Captain Dumbcunt that her dog just came seconds from death and that she should really have it on a leash. Because I was feeling extra helpful in that moment, I also advised her to go eat a flaming bag of dicks.
- I skulk back to the site and tell Mr. Vagina to get packing... we have no choice but to just leave.
I'd rather swim in raw sewage than ever go camping again.
No Parking. No Standing. No Solicitors. No Spitting. No Kidding. Noooobody knoowwwss the trouble I've seeeeen. No glove, no love. No alcohol, dogs, or dead people. No anchovies please. Ok, anchovies on the side. No free will allowed. Parental Advisory Warning - No one under 17 admitted. Keep away from sunlight, pets, and small children. Limit one per family. No purchase necessary. No speakie Engrish. Open to the public for cash and carry. Odds of winning depends on how much you spend. Some assembly and shitloads of batteries required. **Batteries not included. Action figures sold separately. No money down. No rest for the wicked. No hard feelings pal. Apply only to affected area. Safety First. Hard hats are to be worn at all times while in the warehouse. Straightjackets are to be worn at all times while in the asylum. Get that thing away from me, Romeo... I said this is a hard HAT area. This blog may be too intense for some viewers so please consult with a physician, an attorney and your baby mama before participation begins.
For recreational use only. Do not disturb. Ring bell for service. All models are over 18 years of age, or at least that's what "Spider", the guy who sold them to me said. Available in fine department stores everywhere. This end up. Small parts can present a choking hazard to children of parents who pay way too little attention. Take a number please. Then shove it up your ass and wait. Product has not been tested by the FDA (but my cousin's neighbor tried it and said it was the BOMMMMBBB, yo!). Preservatives added to improve freshness. Safety goggles must be worn at all times. Safety sealed with a kiss for your protection. The buck stops here. Sanitized for your protection. Please include a self addressed, stamped envelope. How about a nice game of chess? This blog is for internal and infernal use only. If redness, irritation, swelling or rash develops, discontinue use and consult your magic eight ball. It puts the lotion in the basket. Use only with proper ventilation. Speaking of venting, I DO NOT LOVE RAYMOND so stop making blanket statements, Mr. TV Producer. Avoid extreme temperatures. Store in a cool dry place. Refrigerate after opening. Open the refrigerator. Keep away from open flames and avoid exhaling the fumes - inhaling them is fine. Avoid contact with eyes. Do not puncture, incinerate, or store above 120 degrees Fahrenheit. For your own safety, DO NOT MIX with emotional sensitivity.
Violaters will be prostituted. Prosecutors will be violated. No tickie, no washie. No animals were used to test the runtime performance of this blog. No extra salt, MSG, artificial color or flavoring added. If ingested, do not induce vomiting. If symptoms persist, delete yourself immediately. If you suspect an overloaded operator, destroy immediately. douchebags. The white zone is for passenger loading and unloading only. Contents are under pressure. Restaurant package, not for resale. First pull up, then pull down. Advanced users may also pull out. Call before coming. Driver does not carry cash. Autopilot is engaged during flight. Possible penalties for early withdrawal. Free offer valid only at participating crazy people blogs. Slightly higher outside of the continental US. Allow four to six seconds for delivery. What is best in life? To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentation of their women. Motor vehicles only.
If this blog begins to smoke, run - do not walk - towards the nearest exit. Do not place near any magnetic source. Smoking this blog may be hazardous to your health. Stop playing with that thing. I don't think we're in Kansas any more. Hi-ho, hi-ho its off to shirk I go. It's off to shrink I go. Slippery when wet. Do not exceed recommended daily allowance. For office use only. Not affiliated with the CIA, FBI or WNBA. Drop in any mailbox.
This disclaimer does not cover hurricane, lightning, tornado, volcanic eruption, premature ejaculation, earthquake, Quaker Oats, Acts of Bob, misuse, neglect, repair, attempted modification, bugs in the code, brain damage from faulty comprehension skills, high voltage, cosmic rays, missing or altered serial numbers, attempting to actually read this, sonic boom vibrations, electromagnetic radiation from nuclear blasts, and incidents related to airplane crash, ship sinking, motor vehicle accidents, leaky roof, alien attack, broken glass, falling rocks, blue balls, mud slides, winter storm warnings, menstrual cramps, forest fire, flying squirrels, verbal assaults, hostile military takeovers, or house arrest. Other restrictions may apply. Your mileage may vary. My patience may vary. Glaring Madness is a proud sponsor of Pham Le Nguyen from third world Sri Lanka - fourteen cents a month really adds up in some corners of the world. Code used in this blog was made from 100% recycled wing-its and i guess so's. No outlet. No inlet. No deposit, no return. No left turn. No right turn. No u-turn. Turning Japanese, I think I'm turning Japanese, I really think so.