Aspects of Camping
TENTS
I can say this with absolutely no hesitation: Tents suck ass. I have never once had anything even resembling a decent experience sleeping in a tent. Tents are damp, they're cramped and they provide no real shelter value or heat. Hell, they really don't even provide good protection against bugs or grizzly bears. The only good thing about sleeping in a tent is the possiblity of maybe getting to sleep really close to a girl you're interested in, but a much better idea would be sleeping in a bed, inside a well-lit, centrally heated hotel room. On Route 12. The Radisson. Room 213. Ahem. Minus 8 bullets.
SLEEPING BAGS
Now, you may think that after that scathing critique of tents that I'd go hard at sleeping bags here, but as usual, you're wrong. Sleeping bags are the best. Not only can you get one that puts on display your affections for your favorite show, like the A-Team or G.I. Joe or T.J. Hooker, but you can also use them as a personal refuge when you'd rather not talk to or look at anybody. I mean, honestly, what other highly portable item allows you to zip yourself up in your own little world of imagination? You can sit in there and imagine that you're a burrito or maybe a crepe for hours and hours until you get tired of it or you suffocate yourself on the lining. Now, that's just good, clean fun. Plus 6 bulets.
CAMPFIRES
People are fucking morons. They actually willingly go out into the woods and purposely refrain from bringing matches or a lighter with them so that they can start a fire the "natural" (read: stupid) way. Now, to some degree I guess I can understand the need to feel like one is actually experiencing nature for its true beauty or some garbage like that, but why would that include having to rub two sticks together to start a fire? I mean, our ancestors went through centuries of inventing things and building cathedrals and being ashamed of their genitals so we didn't have to do all that nature shit. Especially the part about starting up fires. Seriously, if Isaac Newton saw these people doing what they do, he would eat his powdered wig in anger. Minus 4 bullets.
CAMPFIRE STORIES
About thirty years ago, on this very blog, someone told a story with a very predictable ending where the teller said at the end that either they were the subject of the story or that the subject was right there behind everyone. The subject of the story had a hook for a hand or something, because they always do, and he murdered a whole bunch of campers, just like the people listening to the story exactly thirty years ago tonight. The teller repeated themselves a lot to pad out the story, because really the whole thing was pretty thin -- thirty years ago this very night. Only one camper survived that night all those years ago, and when they asked him what happened, all he could do was repeat the killer's blood-curdling cry, "Minus 7 bullets!" And you know how I know? Because that storyteller was me! Minus 7 bullets!
HIKING
Hiking's not too bad, as long as you're actually doing it for a reason. If you're walking up to like the top of a big rock or something so you can see a kick-ass view of your car through that viewfinder thing, I'm all for it. On the other hand, if you're just walking for 10 miles so that you can say you made it to the end of the trail so you can turn around and go back, that's just a waste. I mean, you could have at least walked in the direction of somewhere that you could get some Crunch 'n' Munch or something. But the kind without the peanuts. Those are better. Plus 2 bullets.
HAVING TO TAKE A DUMP IN THE GRASS AND USE LEAVES AS TOILET PAPER
Seriously, not cool. I mean, I get pissed off when I run out of TP in my apartment and have to use paper towels. So just imagine what... Actually, I probably shouldn't have mentioned that. So...just forget I said that. Anyway, um...leaves. It sure sucks to have to use those. Minus 9 bullets.
So I think it's pretty clear that until the definition of the word "camping" is somehow changed to involve basking on the deck of a yacht as bikini-clad women who laugh at all my jokes bring me unlimited amounts of fine scotch, I'm probably not going to be all that into it.
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