Road trip with 2 bitches, part 2

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Onto...

Day 2
Upon departure from the futon of death, I headed straight to the cooler for a tasty adult beverage. Bitch and bitch were obviously not hardened campers like me, and chose sobriety and packing over laziness and drinking. Rookies. Well...they were the ones doing the driving. I guess that's a valid reason. If you're one of THOSE kinda people.

Due to the wonders of geography, 90% of our drive that day was through Oregon, even though we were going from a place in Washington, to a place...in Washington. It was about a 2 hour drive from Paradise Point to Cape Disappointment. Jim and Jess started bickering by minute 2.

It was pretty funny, actually. Jim was super hungry. We'd drive through some village...Jess would ask if we should stop at the gas station on the left...Jim would interrupt with a restaurant request on the right...and before they could decide anything, we would be past them both, leaving said village. In addition to being hungry, Jim had no smokes. Thus, he was not a happy camper. GET IT? A HAPPY CAMPER? After multiple requests to "turn that frown upside down", Jim was starting to crack. This was the beginning of his "I'm gonna punch you in the face" threats. Sadly, this threat never came to fruition, despite my best attempts.

Due to my awesome navigation skills, we managed to make it to Astoria. It was pissing rain, but we hung out on the pier for a bit, checking out the wildlife and such. Tim was compared to the sea lion in front of us. How original. Bastards. We had lunch in town at a nice waterfront restaurant (where the dumbass waitress forgot to bring my fat tire!), then walked around the town for a bit. I really like the place...although I'm not too sure why. The bitches didn't seem impressed.

Finally we got to one of the things I really wanted to check out....the uber-long bridge. It's 4.1 miles, across the mouth of the columbia river, back into Washington. The weather was shit, so we couldn't see the other side till we were within a mile of it. The bridge was...well, a bridge. After we got across, I realized something...why the fuck was I so excited to see a bridge? I = weird.

After a little while, we stumble upon the area we're supposed to be at. We drive past Ilwaco, up to a lighthouse. The weather had not improved at all, but we went to check it out. Bitch and bitch bust out their trusty Walmart ponchos. I wear my hoody. They look queer. I look...well, like a fat drunk. I guess it's a tie?

The wind was unbelievable up at the lighthouse...it was awesome. It was strong enough to almost knock me over, which is quite a feat. After goofing around in the rain/wind, and listening to Jim's pathetic "I'm gonna push you off the cliff, dilly bar!!"* threats, we went back to to the car, and back to Ilwaco to buy beer/water/elephants.

* He started calling me dilly bar on the drive down. Like a lot of what Jim says, I have no idea where this came from.

The store was your typical redneck haven o' shopping. Chew, live bait, liquor, and diapers all in the same aisle. No elephants though. Denied! The counter woman looked at our ID's, and asked me "Arr yew awl fishermen, on a boat?" Uhhh...what?

We managed to escape unharmed, and headed to...Cape Disappointment!

The cabin we rented was pretty shitty, and was located right next to the camp host. Since we are now full-on YURTHEADS (It's my blog, I'll invent brutal words if I want to dammit!), we went back to the front and requested a change of residence. We were rewarded with a dope yurt, in an area with no other campers/yurtheads as far as the eye could see. Now we're talkin.

I opened a beer approximately 11 seconds after we got there. Go Keystone Light! I was stuck with the top bunk in this yurt, even after explaining that my manatee-like body could collapse the thin piece of plywood seperating me from Jess, who was sleeping below. My logic was veto'd.

Jim is a hardcore dude, so after all this excitement, he needed...a nap. After laughing at him for a bit, Jess and I decided to go to the park store. When we arrived, we were greeted by a redneck woman outside her truck, who looked like she was talking to a bush. Umm...okay. It was only after she moved her dumpy ass outta the way, that we saw...a raccoon. With no tail. Standing on his hind legs, staring at us. Not scared in the least. Umm...okay.

We went into the store and asked about said raccoon...the lady told us that he was attacked by a cougar, and nursed back to health by the owner of the store. When they released him back into the wild...he didn't leave. He just hangs out by the store. The lady then told us that the little guy waits for people to come into the store, follows them in, steals candy bars from the rack by the door, and takes off before the door shuts! This was the best story I heard on the whole trip. Priceless...I couldn't stop laughing.

Jess ended up buying a can of beans, and we left. After returning to our yurt and waking up city boy, we went to check out what this place had to offer. First stop: Killer Jetty. For the uninformed:

jet-ty - a pier or structure of stones, piles, or the like, projecting into the sea or other body of water to protect a harbor, deflect the current, etc.



It was pretty long...at least a km, probably more. Waves were crashing up on the jetty a little bit, but nothing insane. Jim and I walked pretty far out along it and drank a beer, while artsy bitch took pictures of birds and waves n shit. The view was pretty cool...I was very impressed.

And then....



Jim got eaten by a wave!! YES!

Actually, he wasn't that wet...but it was still pretty funny, and good timing by Jess.

After our jetty antics, we returned to the yurt. The weather wasn't cooperating very much...thus, the fire Jess attempted to make fizzled out quicker than Jim's patience. Jess had bought a can of beans, but had no way to A) open the can; B) cook the beans on the fire; and C) get the beans from the can to his mouth, assuming he solved A and B. After somehow opening the can, and constructing some sort of retarded cupholder out of a metal hot dog stick, he managed to cook the fucking beans...and ate them with his finger. Reason number 29 why this was retarded? The dipshit doesn't even like beans!

An executive decision was made to retire to the yurt for the night to play poker and watch a movie on un laptop de artsy bitch. And drink beer. We started watching 1408...it blew. A side effect of beer drinking though, is the constant need to...ya know, take a piss. I was waaaay too lazy to actually step off our deck and walk over to a tree, so I pissed off the side. After finishing up, I turn around to come back inside and observe...

A big fucking raccoon making a beeline for the open yurt door. And he had a tail.

I've had my fair share of raccoon issues in the past (see Toronto hostel blog, circa 2004), so I did what any man would do. I screamed like a girl, ran inside, slammed the door, and told the bitches of my encounter with the hippo-sized carnivore.

Of course, I was greeted with laughter and ridicule. Guilty as charged.

Jess jumped up right away, opened the door, and coaxed the man-eater up onto the deck. He didn't eat Jess. And he wasn't hippo-sized. He was...well, raccoon-sized. And friendly. A couple of his friends eventually joined him too. The bitches proceeded to feed them for a little while, while I drank on my safe top bunk. I was shouting stuff like "THOSE ARE WILD ANIMALS! DON'T FEED THEM OUTTA YOUR HANDS! YOU GUYS ARE CRAZY! YOU COULD GET RABIES!"

Suddenly, I was 85 years old or something.

They took off after a while, and we returned to 1408. It was just as bad as pre-raccoon. Jim started the gas party with some napalm-like farts. Being on the top bunk for this did not make me a HAPPY CAMPER! GET IT? Alas, Jess and his beans soon returned the favour. Jess bareass-farted on Jim's head while he was busy watching the movie. Bare ass people. He was not amused, since he probably had poo particles in his hair n shit. Jess and I laughed for a long ass time. More "I'm gonna punch you in the face" threats ensued. Fun was had.

After that hilarity, we started watching Knocked Up, but we all just passed the fuck out before it was over. And Jim smelled like Britt poo.

This is pretty long, so I'll finish it up in a seperate entry.

Road trip with 2 bitches, part 1

About a month ago, Jess and I decided we need a mini-vacation. We floated a few ideas around, but the best one seemed to be the Oregon/Washington Coast. We looked into camping...but camping in October = wet and cold. And let's face it, Jess and I are crybabies. So we found the next best thing...yurts!

A yurt is a mongolian tent thinger, with a roof. Circular, 16 ft around. Has a bunkbed and futon couch inside, wood floors, lights, electricity, and heat.





There, that's a yurt. Tim's new, improved blogs come with pictures! Contain your joy.

Anyways, there weren't a ton of choices for these lovely yurts, since a lot of them were already reserved. We settled on 1 night at Paradise Point, in southern WA, and 2 nights at...Cape Disappointment! I know, brutal name. It's on the southwestern tip of WA, a few miles from the Oregon border. Pardon the pun, but it most definitely did not disappoint.

Oh yea, we also recruited the other bitch for the trip, Jim. He needed a break from the rigors of watching concerts and getting drunk. Just kidding, little guy.

Day 1

Sane people leave for a trip when they get off work on friday, right? Nope, not us. Jess had school. On saturday. SATURDAY! And he can't miss a class, cuz his 450 lb teacher will end him. That, and he's a huge nerd who loooves to learn. So bitch went to school saturday till 11AM or so, then came and got me. We braved cambie construction to go get Jim...then back to Jess's...then get the rental car...in other words, we didn't cross the border till closer to 3:30pm. We got grilled at the border by a low-rent Dave Chappelle about our intentions in the states, then it was off to Jack In the Box. Where I think I saw Jana.

After that, we were off. Dipshits 1 and 2 decided stopping every 3rd exit was a good idea, so we didn't get to Paradise Point till about 9:45. We stopped at: 2 gas stations, WalMart, a closed liquor store, and another gas station. And went BACK to the last gas station after we got there. We gassed up exactly once. You do the math.

I did get a cool camo hat at a gas station for 5.99...and found the same hat 10 minutes after at walmart for 2 bucks. Bastards. Bitch squared got ponchos and various other retarded things at walmart. And I couldn't figure out how to use the automated checkout stand. And they made fun of me. Well played, assholes.

Jim was not amused that I forgot to change money before we crossed the border, so I had 200 canadian on me...and no one would take it. We traded 60 bucks (how cool is it to trade USD for CAD straight up?), and he whined for all 3 days about how he was short on american...even though he still had more than enough. Can you tell he's related to Jess?

By the way, let me make the joke for you, since you're probably thinking it....yes, 3 men went to a place called Paradise Point. Yes, that sounds slightly sexually challenged. Yes, I was even mounted by another man there. Wait, what? I'll get to that later. But for the record, this location choice was purely coincidental, and is not a reflection of the sexuality of me or Jess. Jim...still not so sure.

Paradise Point was not exactly Eden. It was about 32 feet off the interstate, actually. After cracking a beer, checking out the yurt, and making fun of the korean family in the next yurt (does it smerr rike flied puppy face to you? Are they BBQing?), Jess attempted to make a fire. Jim thwarted all such attempts. Jess got annoyed. Jim laughed. After 2 hours, an entire bottle of lighter fluid, and burning every piece of paper we had, Jess had finally made a fire. A shitty fire, but a fire nonetheless.

For some reason, Jess the Brilliant claimed the top bunk before we left, on my facebook wall. For the world to see. Why? I have no idea...who the fuck wants the top bunk? He tried to deny he staked this claim, but it's documented ON THE INTARWEB! Internet 1, Jess 0. Anyways, I got the futon. It had two wooden pegs holding it in position as a couch. Take pegs out, voila...a bed. One problem with this.

Attached to the pegs are big, hammer-like wooden ends. These things were big fucking mallets.

As soon as we figured that out, we beat the living shit out of each other with them, of course. Jess destroyed my knee. I clubbered Jim a couple times. Jim was not amused, so he climbed up onto the top bunk, and frogsplashed me from the top. Twice. Then proceeded to climb on top of me and "pink belly" me. This was as disturbing as it sounds, people. He sat on my back and slapped my gunt until it turned pink. I was powerless to stop him, because he had full mount. FULL MOUNT! If I had flattened out in an escape attempt, it was rear naked choke time, and I'm done like dinner. Don't mess with the rear naked.

Yup, rear naked and pink belly in the same paragraph. See why I'm still a little worried about him? I can just see the hamster in Ottawa Mike's head running like hell on his wheel, churning out 40 homo jokes a second. By the end of this, he should have more material than a pair of Rosie's pants.

Anyways, these 2 sissies were completely shitfaced off of 6 beers a piece. I had consumed 6 tallies, and 6 regulars...and was fine. Jim passed out first, cuz he was "soo drunk", and me n Jess bullshitted about hockey for hours till we finally passed out.

Part 2 will include - plenty of Jim-Jess disagreements, nature's wrath, raccoon hijinks, rednecks, malt liquor energy drinks, air hockey injuries, almost dying, and me winning the mother of all arguments. Stay tuned.