I've neglected to post about the odesseyian adventure and reckless abandon mixed drink that is summer camping in Wisconsin. I've neglected many other vitals recently including paying parking tickets, finding a job to pay rent, and buying toilet paper... but in my current pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps git-er-done mood, this post seemed the most appropriate to complete. And honestly, what is weightier than a dynamic group of young adults putting aside an entire weekend to venture into the wilderness to learn important life lessons, puke them back up, and learn them again... sometimes at a rate of 60 in an hour.
Alongside beautiful people eloquently composingreflectivetext, I offer the following thoughtful playlist as a descriptive homage to Campsite #38 and hopefully as some inspiration for similar last-minute adventures.
DAY ONE: When there are pressing decisions to be made, depart for the closest secluded forest for a weekend.
DAY TWO: Before noon, I can only be awoken with a cocktail of the following recipe: 1) a hot dog penis, 2) a healthy dose of peanut butter, 3) "wakin bacon", and 4) a swig of vodka, whiskey, and orange juice.
DAY THREE: To my extensive pickup line repetoire (most famous for the raspy, crooning"Hey Ladies") was added "If you get off work soon, there are body shots in the parking lot".
salty noun 1: someone who drinks one and a half bottles of a roomate's red wine; 2: someone who throws personal objects across the room while listening exclusively to bright eyes; 3: someone who acts out a self-fulfilling prophecy in which everyone hates him/her because of obnoxiously thinking everyone hates him/her; 4: anyone with a wound, a bottle, and very little to lose; "that grimaced, gin-marinated man choosing the gutter over (or because of) his noble gentry... looks like a salty" or "that salty just dedicated Missy Eliott's I Hate You So Much Right Now to me"
Kyle, I wrote this in my blog, but will put it here too. Yea, the cover of " I touch myself" very disturbing. The sound it self is wonderful, but then when you listen to it and what they are singing, creepy....
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salty
noun 1: someone who drinks one and a half bottles of a roomate's red wine; 2: someone who throws personal objects across the room while listening exclusively to bright eyes; 3: someone who acts out a self-fulfilling prophecy in which everyone hates him/her because of obnoxiously thinking everyone hates him/her; 4: anyone with a wound, a bottle, and very little to lose; "that grimaced, gin-marinated man choosing the gutter over (or because of) his noble gentry... looks like a salty" or "that salty just dedicated Missy Eliott's I Hate You So Much Right Now to me"
Funny post. The camping tents remember me of my mountains holidays along with my friends! Very nice moments!
Thanks for the link to my blog!
WARNING: Dont leave tents in an unattended car!
Side effect include smashed window and missing tent =\
Whoa I haven't heard "Here's To The Night" in years. That brings back some memories.
Kyle, I wrote this in my blog, but will put it here too. Yea, the cover of " I touch myself" very disturbing. The sound it self is wonderful, but then when you listen to it and what they are singing, creepy....
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