- I don't change one piece of clothing throughout the duration of the weekend. Now, I always bring other clothes believing that this is the year that I'll change my underwear. It never happens. Gross? Maybe. Do I care? Nope.
- Bathing does not happen. I'll wash my hands if I have the means, but no other body part is going to get cleaned, unless I go swimming in the lake. And it's debatable whether or not I'm really getting cleaned by doing that anyway. Lord knows what the hell is in that lake. Brushing your teeth is also hit and miss. This is really the first year I ever went out of my way to brush my teeth. I don't know why. I'm actually kind of disappointed in myself.
- I'll eat an ungodly amount of garbage, shit food and drink way too many piss beers. This past camping trip (two nights) I had to have eaten an entire box of Cheez-Its (a camping necessity), ten S'mores, a full bag of chips, half a jar of peanuts, four veggie burgers, 25 granola bars, and whatever else was put in front of my face. I also drank way too many beers in cans. Ugh. The combination of junk food and make believe beer (and let it be known that I wasn't at all drunk) caused a near puking moment; my first in 7 years. God, that would've been disappointing. Oh, and I smoke about 18 more cigarettes a day than usual.
- Sleep is optional. Actually, let me rephrase that. Finding a comfortable place to sleep is impossible. I'm not the pickiest sleeper in the world, but falling asleep for three hours in the back of a van fucking blows balls. And that was probably my most comfortable option. You have to go into the weekend assuming that you'll probably only get about six hours of total sleep.
- Sun tan lotion is poison. I'm a pale motherfucker, and I hardly ever think about putting sun tan lotion on when camping. Getting burnt seems like an initiation rite. I almost kind of like it. Tank top tans are beautiful. You know it.
- Pissing in public, and I mean wherever you're standing at the time, is appropriate and necessary. You're in nature. Get a clue.
- No shoes or socks. Get bug bites. They make you tougher.
And after the weekend is all over, and you've shoved that last hot dog down your gullet, and played your last game of cornhole, you look like these suckers - exhausted, gross, but content as hell.
3 comments:
damn you. you couldn't just wait another day to write a blog about camping. you had to beat me to it. what am i going to write about now, cream cheese salamis?
I really screwed this one up.
(Read: I totally forgot about camping and I'd committed myself to happenings in Chicago. Don't underestimate the feelings of regret I have right now.)
your group picture is way better than mine. next year i want to cook more. nicer food. i was thinking about all the crap i ate over the weekend. it's sickening.
Post a Comment