The Vicious Daisy Camps

By the way I should mention that all of my blogs will be honest and, therefore, x-rated. You have been warned.

So I have to do it...one more schizophrenic hottie tale.
So I'm walking through my same old neighbourhood alley (don't ask) and I see a different crazed youth coming towards me. I assume he's going to ask me for a smoke. He gets closer and closer and then a little too close and then bang!! He bashes right into me.
"Fuck you!" I say.
And then he goes, "Fuck you!
And again, "Fuck you!"
And then he adds, "No, fuck you dude.!
We pause, looking at each other.
We would be great friends.

Onto camping. Me and my BFFM (male) Gerry and my BFFF (female) Jane decided one night that we should spend a bit of time exploring our rustic sides and go camping. We had made that decision after eating a few pot brownies by accident. (I originally thought our lovely troubled friend Marcus had brought a normal dessert. I should have known better.) It was just after my head had separated from my body and was floating up to the ceiling that I thought maybe this is a bad time to make plans. Mmm...us...camping. Would be like throwing three cats into bathtub full of water, i.e., not very organized.

Well, we tried it.

Gerry was to rent a car and pick up Jane and her massive pooch first and  then me and my 110 pound monster dog. Those dogs weren't pets. They were "don't pets."

When Gerry pulled up to my place I realized he had rented the smallest car in town and even though there were three people, camping gear and two massive dogs going on this trip the biggest thing in the car was Jane's summer hat. It stuck out the windows on both sides of the car.
"I am not leaving my dog behind because of your hat."
"Oh, but honey," she whined, "in all of my fantasies about this trip, I'm in this hat. I want it in all the photos..."
We did reach a compromise and tied it to the roof. There we were in the heart of Redneck-land driving around in a car wearing a big hat.The hat blew off mid-journey anyway. Jane was reduced to tears but that happens a lot so it was easy to ignore.

The ride was not exactly serene. The dogs fought. Gerry and I fought. Jane and I fought. I fought with one of the dogs. I can sum it up with one comment from Jane: "If you play one more Erasure tune I am going to slit my wrists!!!"

We stopped off first to buy Jane a bathing suit at a shop in Haliburton. Four hours later we left with Jane in tears, without a bathing suit having tried on every one in the shop, mumbling the mantra, "I'm fat, I'm fat, I'm fat."  Gerry of course was all prepared with a Versace swim suit and matching bathing cap. I wore way-to-big-for me athletic shorts, left behind years ago by an ex, You know the type - the crappy pretend athletic shorts for those who prefer to ponder rather than move. The ones with the inner lining that supports nothing and get all tangled. I tried to deduce which ex left them behind but I came to realize that all of my ex's were about the same size. Doughy.

We next stopped at the grocery store. We had planned to have incredible BBQ's with steak, sausages, ribs...the whole deal. Jane walked into the store, grabbed six grapefruits and announced "I'm done."
Jane should always try on bathing suits right before she goes to the grocery store, She saves money. It's like that "Always go to the grocery store fat" rule.

On the way back to the car I made the mistake of commenting to Jane, "Isn't this fun?."
"Actually no," she replied." "I'm fat. I have nothing to eat but grapefruit and I have lost my hat. So if you say that again I'm going to fuck up your day."