Camping and Human Rights Violations: Not That Different

07/04/2011 · 72 comments

in How Did My Life Come To This, Psychological Warfare, Sadist Vagina, What Is Wrong With You?

To say I’m an indoor type of girl is like saying I’ve the most magnificent tits in all the land. It’s simply being much too kind to what I really am.

One of the largest selling points of my current home is that I can go swimming, work out, grill out, go out to eat, ice skate, shop, be assaulted by a homeless man, and travel in an 8 block radius without going outside. I would be perfectly happy being a hermit, locked away in my home for years and years, seeing the light of day only through the windows–my home would essentially serve as a comedian aquarium.

It would be fucking amazing.

So it’s rather disheartening when Adrian suggests that we go camping out around Labor Day, because no amount of confetti blasted out of a t-shirt gun followed by a parade of Thai Ladyboys with sparklers would make that suggestion palatable.

But the idea of camping is not really as bad as the shit you need to go camping in the first place.

There is a whole market of camping equipment for people like me, and none of it I will use because it makes me feel like the largest asshole that ever assed a hole.

A traveling espresso maker: for the wilderness twatwaffle.

Just what every alcoholic needs.

It’s a steel motherfucking martini glass. Go ahead, booze the fuck up, and then with a quick flick of the wrist, you’ve got a shiv and a shield at your disposal! DIE MOTHERFUCKER. No one can find your body here.

The fact that there is a tangible market for people who cannot live one fucking night without playing checkers, and will even buy an inflatable stand to sate their outlandishly boring hobby is some of the saddest shit I have ever imagined possible.

It’s like watching a dog watch his master punch the elderly. That dog has no idea his master is a psychopath, but you do. You know, and it breaks your heart to watch.

KING ME, DICKSMACK–OHGODIPUNCTUREDIT.

It’s an outdoor Craftmatic Adjustable Bed. This is probably the most comfortable sofa bed that has ever been. I want one.

And then, you have the camping equipment that I presume bears have actually invented and placed on the market for their convenience.

It’s a bear to-go bag. You zip yourself in all safe and snug and then CLAWS, YOU BASTARD. You just allowed bears to establish an economy based on human trafficking. Way to go, cockmunch, you’ve fucked us all.

I have many questions for this woman.
1) Why is your cot dangling mysteriously in a field, without any bedding?
2) Are you aware that this is not a force field placed on you by Tom Cruise and that you are free to leave at any time?
3) You realize you’ve just sat down in the most hilarious human trap by bears that has ever been? Try to spot a bear and then get out of this shit without becoming hopelessly entangled and screaming for your life. “DEAR GOD HANK, SAVE YOURSELF. I’M AN IDIOT AND HAVE CONVENIENTLY BAGGED MYSELF FOR THIS FAMILY OF GRIZZLIES.”

But the thing that really drives home the idea that camping is a half-step from being a human rights violation is all of the varied ways to use the restroom, each more degrading and hopelessly fucked up as the next.

It starts innocently enough with this.

A reader pointed me to this product in the comments once, and to bask in its slightly emasculating presence is immeasurably confusing.

But, as another reader pointed out–at least ladies can finally learn to write their names in the snow.

Based on the product name alone, I couldn’t honestly tell you what this object’s purpose is, but it’s certainly not to allow you to pee in a dignified manner. What could it possibly do?

Nothing says Family Fun like lugging around a bucket filled with your own shit. Just set it down in the corner of your campsite and allow it to mock you with its mere presence. “Come on…just come shit over here. You don’t want to shit in the woods, that’s why you have me ol’ buddy, your portable shitter.”

But oh, how I have always wanted to shout, “THE SHITTER’S FULL,” and mean it–now this goal is finally within my grasp.

And yet, shitting in a bucket, pissing in a bottle, or finding a mode of peeing in which ladies can finally discover what its like to pee out a car window can’t compare to the loss of dignity and self-respect that comes from this gem.

What is the most vulnerable you have ever felt? Have you ever been dealt that terrible blow that comes from losing a loved one, being horribly bullied, or failing to grip onto your life’s dream when you had the chance?

No matter the case, I know you have never felt as vulnerable as you will when you use this.

Nothing will make you reassess your life and your choices more than shitting in a garbage bag wrapped haphazardly around a laundry rack. It might be more dignified to just strap a Hefty to your ass with suspenders for the duration of your trip than to try to balance over this hellish contraption.

That’s saying a lot, that having a trash bag literally caged upon your asshole would be better than using this product. Just try to imagine running from the bears that are smugly attempting to trap you with this literal sack of shit trailing behind you like the saddest caboose that ever was.

And yet still, I would rather suffer that fate than sit upon this death chair and wait for its imminent collapse into a sharp, pine-and-goddamn-scented demise.

Jesus, why, with this bevy of equipment, do people choose to stay in the outdoors longer than a half hour?

The few times I have been camping have been littered with extraordinary bullshit. What about y’all? Got any good camping, hiking, or outdoors stories?

Favorite Comment from The Last Post:
From Bex: “I eat Orcs for fucking breakfast yo! And if anyone comes to NZ on vacation & wants to go on a mish to throw a shady magic ring at a flaming vagina, I’m your gal. Cheers Noa G! You own my soul.”

 

Eric July 4, 2011 at 1:53 am

My idea of camping consists of a $250,000 motor home with expanding walls and sleeps 20 all in there own separate rooms. It must include a fully stocked kitchen, Satellite TV and WiFi. My Xbox better be in there somewhere too. The Pure Comfort 5 in 1 bed, that fucker comes home with me! If I can’t see the roof of WalMart from our campsite, we gotta reposition. I’m not killing my own food. Raul behind the deli counter can do it for us. I have only one thing I do before a camping trip . . . break my ankle. “Sorry guys. Try real hard to have a good time without me.”

-Eric, Totally peaked on some Ambien right now
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Eric July 4, 2011 at 8:45 am

I’m also annoyed that I broke one of my own pet peeves and used the wrong form of “their” in that reply. I totally just peeved myself.
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Noa July 4, 2011 at 4:12 pm

Your form of camping is the only form of camping, as far as I am concerned. Fuck the tents, let’s get electronic up in here with some Ambien.

Also, thanks for the correction to your grammar–I blamed the Ambien.

toni in florida July 4, 2011 at 2:32 am

I’m with Eric (except for the Wally World part) and I need/want my motorcoach to have a mobile version of my incredible waterbed on it, ’cause I can’t sleep on anything else. And I needs my sleep, ya know? Oh, and no bugs allowed. With air-conditioning everywhere.

Other than that, I’m very low maintenance.

So, um, when do we leave?
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Noa July 4, 2011 at 4:13 pm

I would love to sleep on that waterbed as the RV is moving down the road, because I imagine that it’s the closest to a yacht that I will ever be.

toni in florida July 5, 2011 at 8:21 am

Woo-hoo! Catch a wave all the way to dreamland!
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Noa July 5, 2011 at 4:22 pm

And that’s the new yachtbed slogan.

wagthedad July 4, 2011 at 3:49 am

Camping is the shit, Noa. Not only because you don’t have to shower for days and you can just lie around drinking the whole time, but because you have the opportunity to expose yourself to a side of America you might have known existed but didn’t get to see up close yet. Or have seen up close yet, but need to be reminded.

I once spent an entire Saturday camping, watching the development of an argument between a man wearing a Lynrd Skynrd T-Shirt and a pube goatee and a woman with one of those “I’m too fat to wear this bare-midriff top and it looks like I’m baking bread in my shirt but fuck you because I am drunk and have two kids with fetal alcohol syndrome sitting next to me on the picnic table while my boyfriend Randy can’t put the tent together worth a shit so we can go fuck in there and leave the kids outside on the picnic table.”

As the day wore on, and their friends arrived, it just. Got. Better. Thankfully there was no child, wife or husband beating, but there was a lot of get-all-pissed-off-and-drive-around-the-campground-in-the-camaro-screaming-about-rhonda-the-bitch-and-then-come-back-and-fight-some-more going on.

Did I mention their names were Randy and Rhonda? Full names: Randy You Cocksucker and Rhonda You Bitch.

Eventually a park ranger arrived and told them to tone it down. We wanted to boo them.

Much fun was had by all.

Kella July 4, 2011 at 11:59 am

Surely I’m not the only one who saw “you have the opportunity to expose yourself to a side of America you might have known existed but didn’t get to see up close yet.” and had the immediate mental image of Shane camping with in nothing but a trenchcoat and randomly giggling like a maniac as he exposed himself to the local wildlife?

…And many deer threw themselves in the paths of Toyota 4-Runners, from sheer psychological trauma, that day…
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Kella July 4, 2011 at 12:01 pm

Originally, I thought, “This comment only needs the strictest minimum required words for grammatical correctness.”

Then I said, “Fuck it. I’ll liberally sprinkle a few ‘with’s and remove a comma or two and see if any fuckwhistle notices…”
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Noa July 4, 2011 at 4:16 pm

@Kella: You are not the only one. Because that’s probably what he literally meant.

@Wag: Holy Fuck that was funny. I had my own run-in with campsite assholes in New Mexico once (where one should never, ever camp ever. Ever.) It was, in all seriousness, a drunk opera singer. And it was glorious, until 4 am when Grace and I were whipping rocks and shit at her tent because FUCK OPERA.

Abby July 4, 2011 at 8:15 am

I agree and waxed poetically about this myself some time ago–I love not camping. http://abbyhasissues.com/2011/05/27/roughing-it/
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Noa July 4, 2011 at 4:16 pm

I am going to use all of the listed suggestions in that post to convince Adrian that camping is for pussies.

BrassyDel July 4, 2011 at 10:35 am

Abby beat me to it! I love not camping also, and of course thought of the same image immediately upon reading your post, Noa.
http://pinterest.com/pin/47831810/
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Noa July 4, 2011 at 4:18 pm

There’s nothing like 50’s housewife propaganda and fuckery.

Zombie, Esq. July 4, 2011 at 10:45 am

You’re missing out on a lot more amusing prosthetic pissing devices for women. My roommate and I are headed to live in China, and in order to be prepared, we now have an endless stream of standing-up-peeing aids being delivered to our apartment. I’ve been assigned at least three of them to try out, but somehow I never think to strap on the ole’ fake dick when I need to take a leak.
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Noa July 4, 2011 at 4:19 pm

I need links.

I need links to these products…now, please. HOLY SHIT I CANNOT FUCKING WAIT TO SEE WHAT ELSE IS OUT THERE.

Also: Fuck yeah moving to China!

Kathleen July 4, 2011 at 5:56 pm

Um, the go girl… you just slide it in the front of your pants, and pee standing up…
http://www.go-girl.com/
the website has a sweet skiing scene, you know that chick totally wrote her name in the snow…..

Noa July 5, 2011 at 4:25 pm

I love how the woman on the front page is fucking kayaking. I’ve seen Adrian flip his ass into the river more than I can count attempting to pee out of a kayak, and then you’re just whirling in nasty-ass riverwater and pee.

Some things, women are happy not experiencing.

barefootorbust July 5, 2011 at 5:32 pm

No, what we need is something to put in our pants that allows us to just unzip and pee like a guy. All those devices are just as messy as just dropping trou. Unless it allows me to pee over the side of said kayak in mid paddle, you can keep it. :P

Noa July 6, 2011 at 1:42 am

A-fucking-greed.

Zombie, Esq. July 6, 2011 at 9:15 pm

The other contraption is the charmingly named P-Style. My roomate says it is a wonder, but I think it looks like an unfinished bedpan. http://thepstyle.com/
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Noa July 7, 2011 at 11:39 pm

It’s a warped dustpan.

Andi July 4, 2011 at 11:00 am

You are my not-camping soulmate. Camping is a yuppie affectation. If sleeping outdoors was so great, why aren’t the homeless happier? They’re already camping, in perpetuity as it were. Our ancestors would be baffled at our need to punish ourselves by doing things like shitting in the woods WHICH THEY INVENTED INDOOR PLUMBING TO PREVENT. When you’ve contaminated the only water source for miles around with diarrhea, the whole thing isn’t nearly that romantic.
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Noa July 4, 2011 at 4:21 pm

There were 100 pictures to choose from for this post, off of more than 300 pages of Amazon listings for camping equipment. That’s what is so sad–there is a shitload of camping stuff out there like shelves and kitchens and TV’s and shit that just makes me think, “if you need all this shit in the first place, then stay in your home where it is all conveniently located in the first place.”

RADventures July 4, 2011 at 11:35 am

I love camping.

I drove from Anchorage, Alaska to Concord, New Hampshire. It took six weeks. I camped the whole way.

Idyllic, right?

I drove with my parents and my future wife. Six weeks, confined quarters, a lifetime of in-law issues worked out in less than a season…golly.

I still love camping, though. Just not with that combo.

Roy
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Noa July 4, 2011 at 4:22 pm

That wife of yours is a goddamn gem for going along with you. She may be the toughest bitch I have ever heard of.

I think I might like “camping” if it were located in “a cabin” with “a fridge” and “a toilet.” But that’s mostly like living in my house, just further away. I am not good at this shit.

Rachael July 5, 2011 at 1:39 am

I live in Concord! And I would not drive to Alaska for any amount of money, regardless of how and where I was spending my nights! I am BLOWN AWAY that nobody killed anyone. (Wait. Did someone kill someone? That might change things.)
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Noa July 5, 2011 at 4:26 pm

Roy’s much to badass to kill with such easy targets. He assassinates pop music fans in the night time with his bare knuckles.

Rachael July 5, 2011 at 8:53 pm

Hmm. What does he do to people who will never admit they secretly enjoy pop songs when they come on the radio? You know. Just out of curiosity. I have this friend, you see.
Rachael recently posted..Horrible Medical Advice of the Week: You have 36 hours to completely invert your sleep schedule. GO.

Noa July 6, 2011 at 1:43 am

He ignores those people, cause, you know, I asked for a friend.

Christine July 4, 2011 at 1:47 pm

Ok, the thing most terrifying about that last “toilet” is that in your screen-grab THERE ARE ONLY 11 LEFT! Unless there were only 12 to begin with I am fucking flummoxed.

Kella July 4, 2011 at 2:11 pm

…I am fucking flummoxed.

…So are the people stuck trying to use the goddamned thing, I’d imagine…
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Noa July 4, 2011 at 4:23 pm

Again I say, why spend the money to “GET YOURS NOW GODDAMN IT,” when you could shit in a Ziploc for much less.

Kella July 4, 2011 at 5:46 pm

Do you hear that? It’s the sound of a million of my husband’s brain cells dying in agony as I force him to listen to my giggle-filled business plan, involving making linen-finish greeting cards to go with the Ziploc-filled poo.

Something like…

“Happy You’re-a-Twisted-Cuntwhistle-of-a-Mother-in-Law Day! My husband dragged me camping over the weekend, and I felt so bad that you missed it that I had to bring you a souvenir. No need to thank me, you deserved this! After all, you raised him exactly how he needed to be raised to fall in love with a woman like me.”

or

“Dear Boss, you know how you told me if I didn’t work overtime this weekend, filing those papers, I could expect to find a pinkslip on my desk when I came back in? That was so thoughtful of you, that I made sure to bring you a little something to come back to from lunch. I made sure to eat plenty of Mexican food.”
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Noa July 5, 2011 at 4:26 pm

BRILLIANT.

elizabeth- flourish in progress July 4, 2011 at 4:24 pm

…but how else would i sip my fruity alcoholic delights if not for the steel martini glass? i AM camping, after all. god forbid i do that shit sober.

this whole thing read like a christmas list of gifts i want to give to the people i truly hate in my life.
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Noa July 5, 2011 at 4:31 pm

I’ll be looking forward to receiving my bear to-go bag in the mail soon, then.

Angie July 4, 2011 at 6:54 pm

My family camps every summer. We do this at a lake. The lake is surrounded by homes in the $500K+ range and have 4-8 bedrooms with 2-4 bathrooms. Given the fact that there are 8 of us (not including the in laws and subsequent demon spawn), most years I would rather sleep in that what-the-fuck-bat-wing-thing hanging from a damn tree crapping through a port hole in the bottom. Just get a damn pulley and load me up some martinis in one of those superdy-duper steel space age martini glasses…. Or leave me the fuck home.
:D
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Noa July 5, 2011 at 4:31 pm

I am fortunate that my yearly family outing into the mountains of New Mexico is blessedly held at a giant cabin. The outdoors is for the fucking birds. Literally.

Grace July 4, 2011 at 11:08 pm

There is no way we were raised in the same home. I want to go camping soon too. Remember we REGISTERED for camping equipment, because I am a friggin pioneer. There is no need to carry your shitter bucket, or an ass sized garbage bag around…all you need is a hand shovel. Dig a little hole, shit in said hole, cover it with dirt. All clean, neat and so much more environmentally sound. And my redneck husband wants to go camping and only eat food we can kill…wanna go? OHHHHHH in fact, next year we should camp, just the four of us from Dallas to our magic family vacation spot in the mountains! Wilderness, wide open starry skies, game hunting, it’ll be just like Oregon Trail, but with a Brita filter, I will not be the one that dies of dysentery!

Noa July 5, 2011 at 4:34 pm

Yeah, I remember you registered for camping gear, because I bought you that tent so you would not ask me to go with you. I also bought you a cow creamer, so I would not have to cook with you, but here we are.

And fucking Adrian would LOVE to go camping, and I’ll murder you in the night if you mention this to him.

Eden July 5, 2011 at 12:43 am

I never understood when someone says the phrase “happy camper” because its almost always sarcastic. Is anybody ever REALLY a happy camper? They get happy once they shit in a flushable toilet.

I don’t want to bore you with a boring camping novel, but my stint with camping involves, leggings (dont ever wear leggings camping), urine in my shoes, a cactus, the Emergency Room…(yes, in that order). And thus the closeset I get to camping is building a fort out of sofa cushions.
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Noa July 5, 2011 at 4:36 pm

No, no one is ever a really happy camper unless it involves booze and steel glasses.

Your camping and mine sound eerily similar, as I camp out on the floor when I’m too drunk to get into bed.

Rachael July 5, 2011 at 1:34 am

Huh. I think I should get metal cocktail and wine glasses. Not for drinking outside or anything–just for not breaking.

And anyone who brings an inflatable nightstand camping with them deserves to be shot in the scrotum on a weekly basis. I’m not even going to address the checkers part. FUCK checkers.
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Noa July 5, 2011 at 4:36 pm

They totally have a COLLAPSIBLE wine glass version. Enjoy. Fuck checkers.

Rachael July 5, 2011 at 8:42 pm

What? WHERE? I can’t find this. Also, I’d be totally afraid that they’d collapse when I put wine in them and that would make a huge mess. You know what? I’ll just keep using my Chinet cups. You know I am a klassy lady.
Rachael recently posted..Horrible Medical Advice of the Week: You have 36 hours to completely invert your sleep schedule. GO.

Noa July 6, 2011 at 1:45 am
Lilscorpiosweet July 5, 2011 at 2:23 am

I think you have camping all wrong.

With the up coming Zombie Apocalypse I think camping is our test for survival. That way in case we do have to live off the land and know how to be sneaky in the woods like Predator then we know we can take out the Zombies no problem because we will have the necessary skills and fire power to deal right?

I mean you did point out the Martini glass can be used as a shiv and a shield so have one as a shiv and the other as a shield and then BAM you have weapons that will not only kill a werewolf but hopefully a Zombie. The only thing better than having a stainless steel multipurpose Martini glass is that maybe you could also turn it into a flame thrower. But you know throw the bag of shit first because you want the fire to stay on the Zombies. Also that inflatable checkers nightstand will help you pass the time while you wait on the Zombies. My only concern is how fast the Zombies will be moving to how fast you can fling poo and light it on fire with the flame thrower/Martini glass.

Happy survival….
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Noa July 5, 2011 at 4:37 pm

Suddenly, it all makes so much more sense.

Margaret Goerig July 5, 2011 at 7:46 am

So, I’m gathering you might be afraid of bears.

Noa July 5, 2011 at 4:37 pm

I fucking love bears. Dead ones.

Jaclyn July 5, 2011 at 8:09 am

I went camping once and only once. It was at sleep away camp and I was super pissed when they told us we had to sleep outside on the last night of camp. I cried. I begged the counselors to let me stay in one of the cabins, to no avail. They treated it like it was some sort of gift. I call fucking bullshit. Sm0res do not make up for sleeping on the ground (did I mention we didn’t use tents- just fucking sleeping bags on the ground) and waking up with a blanket full of ants. And why would anyone tell a bunch of 9 year old girls “campfire stories” about serial killers roaming the woods we slept in? Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with people. I’m with you Noa. Lets stay the fuck inside.
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Noa July 5, 2011 at 4:38 pm

I had a similar experience at Girl Scout Camp, in which I was promptly told to go to sleep at 7 pm as an 11 year old while the counselors got drunk and we were left to fend for ourselves in the wilderness of West Texas.

Fuck. That.

Julia July 5, 2011 at 9:42 am

I just opted for the Colostomy bag! Its soooo convinient! and you can just peel that shit off and toss it over your shoulder! Like at Walmart or other outdoors places.

Noa July 5, 2011 at 4:39 pm

Plus–handy dandy weaponry?

Dear Sweet Mama July 5, 2011 at 10:06 am

I had that plastic toilet bag thingy when married to Hoody’s dad, Survival Man. It was for the end times, so we never used it. The plan was to live in a tree house and tie the full bags to a zip line to go winging through the forest and hit a tree, shrapnelling poo every where for miles and thus fertilizing an area for a garden the next year as well as providing ambush material now. I do have to admit, poop bag on a zip line was something I wanted to see. From a distance.

Noa July 5, 2011 at 4:39 pm

Nothing says lovin’ like tomatoes smeared with your own feces.

Feryx July 6, 2011 at 1:03 am

Say “I WON A MATH DEBATE” 5 times really fast in the middle of a full campsite is a good.. or bad idea, depends really on how many bears are around.
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Noa July 6, 2011 at 1:09 pm

Are bears attracted by masturbation? I had no idea.

Feryx July 7, 2011 at 2:00 am

Apparently they are *taps nose*

Caprice July 6, 2011 at 1:17 am

My idea of camping is a 40 foot motorhome with 3 HD TV’s (one outside so you can “rough it”.) a shower and a washer/dryer in the back, but that 5 in 1 sofa bed has me interested in trying something new! However the portable shitters and pissers have me convinced that my way is best. (Fully stocked liquor cabinet and an ice maker too!)
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Noa July 6, 2011 at 1:46 am

Agreed. Or, you know, stay home and watch National Geographic, because it’s mostly the same thing.

Misty July 6, 2011 at 9:46 am

I am with you on the anti-camping! Too many bad girl scout experiences to name. Shudder!

By the way, did you happen to notice the reviews of the portable toilet? Hysterical. I especially love the guy who ‘reserved his fifth star just in case he finds a deluxe one in the future.’ WTF? Love that kind of delusional optimism.

Noa July 6, 2011 at 1:10 pm

In cases like this, it’s hard to tell if there is sarcasm present in the reviews, or if people just really love shitting in the woods.

Amy July 6, 2011 at 10:26 am

I’ve been one of those moms who once took an infant camping… Tent, pack-n-play, 2 dogs, 5 children & a tornado on top of it.. Oh, the Good-times.

Here is the cadillac of how a girl can pee standing up..
http://www.go-girl.com/ (they are good for concerts)

Noa July 6, 2011 at 1:10 pm

So, you’re a Masochist, is what you’re saying.

Tazer Warrior Princess July 9, 2011 at 11:03 pm

That Freshette thing looks like an intricate torture device…… “oh youzwant to pee in jail? NEGATIVE! We’ll suck that shit out of you!!”
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Noa July 10, 2011 at 10:59 pm

That sounds painfully horrifying.

iampisspot July 10, 2011 at 7:37 am

I fucking hate camping.

It makes no sense to me.

I camped once. I was made to do it. I was a summer camp counsellor, you see, and it was for the benefit of the shitty little kids. I was supposed to teach them survival skills and all – something I knew little about, so I let them all run amok and climb trees and stuff until they were tired, and then we snuck back to camp in the middle of the night and slept in our cabins. Nobody ever found out. That same night however, whilst sleeping peacefully in my bunk-bed, I was bitten by a brown recluse spider on the foot, and spent 4 weeks hobbling about like a fucking peg-leg. I think the spider bite was sent to me as a lesson from God, for being a really sucky camp counsellor.

Shit happens.

Oh well.
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Noa July 10, 2011 at 10:56 pm

It still sounds worth sneaking back in to the cabin, horrorspider bite or not.

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