Posts Tagged 'camping'

Where in the hell have I been?

Well, sadly enough…Nowhere interesting. But that does not mean I have nothing to say. I know the internet didn’t fall apart in my absence, but for some of you it did feel a little different. It has probably been a happier place since I have been silent, but that is about to change. Numerous people have been bugging me repeatedly to continue down this twisted path of profanity and debauchery, so here I am back in the saddle.

I obviously cannot catch you up in this one post, but I will lay the ground work anyway. I truly believe that you can learn something new everyday. Here are some of the things I have learned that I have not had the motivation to type about. That is, until now.

A night of drinking High Life and Rumple Minze should not be capped off with an Irish Car Bomb. Why you ask? I will answer your question, with a question. Have you ever seen The Exorcist?

Good friends, some beer and a campfire is a great way to relax. Having one of your friends drive a lawn tractor (sans blade and deck) through the fire pit, is a good way to scare people. And make them laugh.

The only Doctor you ever need to see should be Dr. McGillicuddy.

The object in the mirror may appear closer than it is, does not apply to something being thrown at the mirror itself.

Ugly babies make angry.

Cute babies make me hungry.

Squirrels will chew on anything.

Squirrels are evil.

I still hate hobos.

It’s not acceptable to poop in your hand and throw at someone. Unless you are a monkey.

Only 40% of licensed drivers truly understand how to use the left lane. This percentage varies from state to state, and I made it up.

The home run derby just isn’t the same without the roids or HGH.

Shotgun rounds can be fired from a brush mower.

My Jedi mind tricks work better when I’m drunk.

The go to small talk phrase, “So how about this weather we are having.” Has been unofficially replaced by “So when do you think this economy is gonna turn around?”

Most things that happen in life can be compared to an episode of Seinfeld.

I’m back you bastards. I hope you can hold on tight enough to stay on the ride.
Strow

I should move…I’m almost on fire.

That was the thought that ran through my head as I was staring at a slab of rock lining the fire pit. The rock was about three inches away from my face. So now you know the end of the story. It gets better. The beginning and middle are just as good.
I am still a pyromaniac. I probably should have outgrown this years ago, but I don’t feel the need to grow up. Maturity has never been my strong suite. On the other hand, I’m usually not irresponsible. On this cold fall night, I was very, very irresponsible. I was attempting to adjust some rather large pieces of wood in the fire pit. After setting them in by hand I was trying to push a couple into the right spot with my foot. This progressed to pretty much standing on a log in the fire. Now don’t get me wrong. I understand how dumb that was. I also must state I have have done stupider things. I have jumped onto a burning palette in the same fire pit holding a knife and a beer. Why? Well, to pose for a a picture of course. I will admit it was stupid. I will also admit that it is dangerous. But most of all, it was fun. And the picture came out alright. Now when I was standing in the pit this time, a log slid, I slipped and fell. On the way to the ground I tried to miss as much of the fire as possible. This meant I was falling to the edge of the fire pit. Great, now I won’t burst into flames but I may smash my head on a rock. I put my hands out, catch myself and breathe a sigh of relief. I start to push myself back up when I realize that my right leg is getting pretty warm. Crap. I forgot about the fact that 2/3 of my body was still in the fire. I got up quickly, hopped out of the pit and made sure I wasn’t on fire. Mission accomplished. The fire has be stoked. I’m not burnt to a crisp. And somehow I didn’t crack my skull open. Sweet. That means it’s time for another beer.
I love going camping. For a vacation, it’s a lot of work. But camping in a spot where no one gets even a single bar on their phone makes it all worth it.

Sorry for the delay, I have a couple more good ones to come. I should be able to get them posted throughout this week.

Strow

I’m famous! On teh internets!

Wow, speculation of my passing. I’m impressed. I always figured I would have to be showered with hate mail to know that I’ve made it big. I apologize for the delay. I do have some good stories. This week has been a little hectic. I should have something up by the weekend. For a teaser, the first story will be a recount of my falling into the fire pit. It’s not as bad as it sounds, but it’s pretty funny.
Strow

Gone Camping

It’s time for another trip into the mountains of PA. This is good news for you the reader. I should be coming back with some good stories to post next week. I will also be whipping up a fresh batch of hobo chili. Yum.
Strow

Giddy Up.

So a little while back I posted some stories about a camping trip I went on a little while ago. From what I can tell from the stats, this was a failure. It was a long post that apparently nobody read. I understand this. I have the attention span of a dead goldfish. So I now present to you, the shortest, funniest story that came out of the whole entire trip. I only do this because you greedy bastards can’t feel good about yourselves unless you can put somebody else down. So here it goes…On the ride up we pass business band radios out to the caravan. No problem, innocent enough. That is until we pass a horse farm. Over the radio comes a request to drive back to the horse farm during the weekend to ride horses. Fine. Still nothing is that out of the ordinary. That is until I start cracking jokes about riding horses. All of the sudden over the radio I hear this statement, “I love fucking horses.” I turned to the driver, laughed and responded by saying, “You love fucking horses? You’re sick, you horsefucker.” And with that a nickname was born. I now have a friend that is referred to as ‘horsefucker’. Beat that assholes.
Strow

Into the Woods…

I am yet again apologizing for the lack of posts this month. It’s not that I don’t have anything to write, it’s just that it is so damn hot and humid. Laziness and procrastination will probably prevail through most of this god awful summer. That being said here is a story about this past weekend’s camping trip. Actually, it’s probably important for me the discuss camping on a whole. Going to a state park and having things like a shower, electricity and a bathroom within walking distance is like diet camping. Anybody can pitch a tent once they plug in their radio and toss a fire starting log in the pit. I’m not bashing that, but that’s not how we roll. If you want to enjoy nature, but still want to shower, then go for it. This however is not the way we do it. We camp on a private property on the side of a mountain. There is a cabin on the property. There is also a generator. The cabin is pretty much a small barrack and storage space. There is no running water. If you need to use the bathroom, then you need to get a roll of toilet paper and a shovel. Showering is out of the question. If you want to shower, take a box of wet wipes and give yourself a sponge bath.
On to the fun stuff. It rained. It rained while we were setting up camp. It rained while we were braking camp and it also rained in between. This would normally make for a shitty time. Not the case. There is nothing more enjoyable then watching people try to set up a canopy while it is raining. When we go camping we drink. When you are camping and it’s pouring rain, you tend to drink more. Everything you plan for the trip is now compressed into a list titled “Things we can do while huddled under a canopy.” When it wasn’t raining we shot some skeet, some targets and beer cans. All in all it was a great time. But you don’t give a damn. You want to hear about the stupid shit we did at night while we were drunk. I’ll start out with some plain and simple outtakes.

– I had to setup my tent in the rain. This somehow resulted in a puddle forming in my tent. This puddle somehow survived the whole weekend.
– A tent was toppled over before it was staked down.
– A big black German Shepard named Buck decided that his parent’s tent needed a doggy door…So he made one. Thank god for duct tape.
– EZ-up canopies are only easy when they aren’t broken. Duct taped was employed to fix this too.
– The puke and rally style of drinking was executed. By one person. It wasn’t fun for her, but it was funny for the rest of us.
– We ran out of clay pigeons. So we started throwing anything that wasn’t bolted down.
– I was completely prepared for this trip. Except for the fact that I forgot my sleeping bag. I usually forget one item per trip. I usually forget something much smaller and much less of a necessity. I did however remember my air mattress.

Now there was a ton more stupid shit that went down, but they only really make sense if you witnessed them happen, so I’ll move on to another category of things that were also funny.
You can learn something new everyday. This is only true if you take the time to pay attention. Also, sometimes what you learn isn’t actually true. Here are some things I learned this weekend. Some of these lessons I will keep with me for the rest of my days, others I will try and forget as fast as I can.

– Karma does exist. A few trips ago a metal truck was obliterated with a shotgun. The remains of this metal truck almost took someone’s finger in return.
– If you go a whole entire trip without hurting yourself, you may still get hurt at the rest stop on the way home.
– Apparently the best way to sober up is to go pee. I was told that peeing makes room for more alcohol…Because they just loss some by going to the bathroom.
– My tent looks like a Outhouse.
– If you snore loud enough, it sounds like someone is ripping through the woods on a quad.
– Don’t drink and quad, you might smash your head on the handlebars.
– Don’t drink and wrestle you might take a boot to the head…In the same spot you hit on the quad.
– Don’t let your dog loose, She will find every bit of spilled beer on the ground and turn out just as drunk as her owner.
– A Big Black German Shepard is a scary site. Except for the fact that the one I met was afraid of thunderstorms and gun shots. I’m assuming that he is just afraid of loud noises. And he spent most of the trip trying to mount another male dog.
– A weed whacker is by no means a replacement for a lawn mower.
– When grass is wet, your feet get wet. When three foot tall grass is wet, you just get soaked.

Overall there was much laughter, tom foolery and drinking. Just the kind of time to relax and fall into a fire pit.
Happy Trails Bitches.
Strow


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