I just heard the funniest joke from one of the voices in my head:
Q: Why doesn’t Superman go camping?
A: Because only fags go camping!!!!!
I am here to announce that my family (well, mainly my mom and me and my siblings and her boyfriend’s family) are
going camping for the weekend, which is why there will not be any other funny posts for the next few days.
I’m not sure why my family intends on going camping, because I thought we learned out lesson from past years. Every single year you go camping, you always think the same thing before you leave, while you’re there, and after you’ve finished:
Before You Leave: Okay, we have everything we need, and we are ready to go. This is not going to be like last year.
Whie You’re There: Damn it! We forgot the lanterns, mattresses, and raincoats! This is exactly like last year.
After You’ve Finished: Finally! I can go home to my cable TV, computer, coffee maker, and alarm clock! We are never doing this again.
But don’t worry, you will. And every single year, you’re peaceful little time to “get away from it all” will turn into you floating around on your cold, hard, blow up mattresses in your flooding tent, while there is a friggen monsoon outside. After drawing straws, you are the one the family chooses to sacrafice to the weather Gods in order to survive. They describe it as “taking one for the team,” and it’s mainly standing out there in the pouring rain, with a flashlight in your mouth, trying to tie a blue tarp above your tent to protect you from hurricane Bob.
And even if your camping trip doesn’t turn out like New Orleans, you still don’t gain anything besides bug bites and a soar
back. Because no matter how much OFF you spray, or how many candles you light, the mosquitoes in the forest will not pause to anally pillage you. They say that the only way to keep the bugs away is to sit near the fire, which basically means you cash in bug bites for getting smoke in your eyes (scientists are yet to discover which is worse).
I just wanted to let everyone know where I was so that you don’t all cry when there is no new post tomorrow. You can be sure as hell that I’ll have a bunch of material talking about how much fun I had tripping on a rock and getting sap on my hands (which seems to conveniently happen every single day) while bears raid my car for Sour Patch Kids.