Okay, so it took me 22 days to write the final chapter. As stated many times before, I'm laaazy. Plus I finally got money in my poker account again, so I've been spending my spare time punching my desk and yelling incoherently at my monitor. I love poker.
Anyways, where were we? Oh yea, that mother nature bitch.
I decided I should go to bed just after the rain started. I was fairly buzzed, but not buzzed enough (or dressed appropriately enough) for a rain party. I got into my tent, got all curled up and comfy, and promptly fell asleep. At some point in the next couple hours, I was awoken by:
A) Gale force winds;
B) An avalanche of water being dumped on my tent;
C) The side of my tent hitting me in the face:
D) ALL OF THE FUCKING ABOVE. Welcome to hurricane season in SW Washington, Tim.
My el cheapo Walmart tent was obviously not made for hurricanes. Actually, I think it might have collapsed if someone just ran by it really quickly. I wasn't thinking about that when I bought it though. I was thinking "What's the bare minimum I can get by with, and still have a shitload of money left over for as many Keystone Lights as possible?". Nice work, fatty. I was paying for my single-mindedness now. I awoke, in the fetal position, to...hell.
The tent had basically imploded. All 4 sides were now perilously close to my face. The fly was still attached, but was blowing more than Jenna Jameson in her prime. Whenever it flipped up, a not-so-nice spritzer of rain would enter through the mesh. And hit me in the face. I had puddles of water all around me, and my sleeping bag, clothes, and bag were all soaked. My hair was soaked. I guess it could be compared to being in the womb, but the water was colder and I'm pretty sure I wasn't gonna get breasts to suck on when I finally escaped.
My first thought was "Hooooly shit, if I wasn't in this tent right now, I wonder how far away it'd be from here?" My second thought was "How the fuck did I sleep through this for this long? It looks like a rain abortion in here." My 3rd thought was in sync with my first words..."JESSSSS!!! WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK IS THIS FUCKING SHIT!"
He was awake too, unsurprisingly. He yelled back something I couldn't understand cuz the wind was too loud. Our tents were like 10 feet away from each other, and we couldn't even hear one another. Do the math there, champ. Shit was fucked up! I decided I had to get the fuck outta there, ASAP. I got dressed in 0.28 seconds, and got outta my tent.
And it blew away.
My first thought came true in about 2 seconds. Even though my sleeping bag, backpack, and various other shit was in there, the fucking thing took off like a missile. Luckily there was a big bank of trees about 5 feet from where my tent was originally located, so it blew into them. I chased it down and pulled it over to the picnic table. Proving that I'm smart at least SOME of the time (ya know, other than deciding camping in hurricane season was an awesome idea!), I popped one of the poles out, put it around the leg of the cemented-in picnic table, and re-attached it to it's peg. Luckily, it held.
I've been outside for about 45 seconds at this point, and I'm straight up soaked. Jess emerges from his tent, which has a shitload of water inside as well, and we load all our shit into the rav 4. After 3 minutes, I feel like I've taken a shower with my clothes on. The wind is cutting right through my wet clothes, and I'm colder than Luc Bourdon is right now.
Hoooleee shit that was a terrible joke. If that offended anyone...sweet!
Anyways, the next words out of bitch's mouth were golden: "Fuck it, let's grab a beer". We did so, and decided to drink it in the only warm, dry, and unoccupied place we could think of.
The bathroom.
Yup yup, we ran across the street, and drank our beers in the heated shitter. It was 4:10am. I used the heatblower thing to try and dry my shoes, to no avail. We laughed about our situation, and tried to come up with a suitable solution. All we could come up with was "let's drink beer and sit in the Rav 4". So...that's what we did.
We sat in the car for 7 hours, and got completely smashed. We drank a whole bottle of baileys, and a shitload of beer. We could only get 2 radio stations...the christian station, and a country station. So we alternated between betting how many lines into a song "Jesus" or "The Lord" would be said...and we sang country songs. Do you have any fucking idea how fucking funny country music is at 7am, after a bottle of baileys? "International Harvester", by Craig Morgan, could be the funniest drunk song of all time. "Honky Tonk Badonkadonk", by Trace Adkins...not far behind.
By the time the girls got up at 11am (it had stopped raining around 8:30), the first thing Jess slurred to Jamie was "Woman, we'rrre drrrunk. Drrrive us to town for brreakfast! Now!" We were so drunk they wouldn't even eat at the same restuarant as us. They dropped us off and went up the street. After our drunken lunch, we staggered out and up to where they were. After a couple blocks we hear "HEEEEEY" from behind us...and a fat girl was chasing us. I'm used to the fat girl love by now, so I thought she just wanted an autograph or something...but she was holding my jacket. Oops...it was our waitress, chasing us down to give it back. That was actually really nice of her. She had a big heart...figuratively and literally.
After arrival back at the site, the girls started talking about where they could shop. I told them to go to Astoria, but they didn't think anything was there. I dunno where the hell it came from, but I told them about the Astoria walmart, and said they could get tonsa cheap shit there. They thought that was a great idea, so they buggered off to the Astoria walmart.
Why is this funny? Cuz there is no Astoria walmart.
Jess thought it was hilarious that they actually bought the story and went to find it, but it turned out waaaay better than that. While Jess and I had a nice nap and watched a couple movies in the nice warm yurt, the girls went on a wild goose chase for an imaginary walmart. When they got to Astoria and couldn't find it, they asked a lady, who filled them in on the lack of a walmart...but she told them there was one in Longview, which was "only 20 miles away". This lady was seriously retarded, cuz Longview is at least 90 miles from Astoria. But the girls didn't know that...so they drove all the way there for Walmart.
And it was closed. Easter sunday.
Needless to say, they were not amused with Timmy when they got back. FIVE HOURS LATER. Hey, we had a good nap....at least someone enjoyed their time!
After sitting around for a while, we decided to go to town for dinner. The McDonalds in Long Beach has an air hockey table! This shit was on! I whooped Jess like cyclones whoop Myanmar, and ripped a huge hole in the crotch of my jeans while celebrating a goal. Dammit. After that, we went to buy more booze, but the town liquor store couldn't sell hard stuff after 8pm or some shit. What the hell? It's America. Part of it's charm is that you can get blasted on 2 dollar ghetto swill at anytime of the day. BS.
We were outta firewood, so we went to the store to grab some...and that was closed too! However, there were 5 bundles of firewood that just happened to be sitting in front of the store....was it free? We didn't know. After sitting there and debating it for a couple minutes, Melissa (you know it was you!) said we should just grab it. I was peer-pressured into volunteering...and I committed a felony. Or a misdemeanor. Or something. I grabbed 3 bundles, stuffed them in the car, and I had committed my first real crime (other than drinking in public). I'm not gonna lie folks, it felt good. Damn good.
After the best fire ever, everyone passed out pretty early. Jess and I ditched the whole tent idea. He slept with Jamie in the yurt (rat bastard), and I decided to sleep in the Rav 4. Round peg...square hole. I didn't exactly fit too well. Jess and Jamie thought I was up all night drinking, cuz they kept hearing cans opening on the patio of the yurt, where the cooler was. Nope. That fucker Steve, the one-eyed dorito-stealing raccoon douchebag, systematically bit a hole in every single one of my remaining beers during the course of the night. One last pimp slap from mother nature for disrespecting and underestimating her.
Thanks a lot, bitch. And I don't mean Jess.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Disappointment, Take 2
I dunno if you've ever experienced nature's fury. I have, and let me tell you, it's not sunshine and puppies. I have no quarrel with nature...I happen to enjoy it very much. Mother nature, however, seems to have a vendetta against me. She uses her beauty and variety to suck me in, then kicks the everloving shit out of me. Since I don't enjoy misery alone, I usually end up sharing the misery with my friends. They can thank me later.
I know what you're thinking...what the fuck is fatty talking about? Is he drunk?
I'm talking about Cape Disappointment redux. Part 2. The encore. And, for the record...no, I am not drunk. This is my first beer. So eff off!
Since Jess and I had such a great time at Disappointment in October (see Road Trip With 2 Bitches, parts 1-3), we decided we'd go back in late march. It started off as a trip for the members of Jess's wedding party to meet and greet in a sea of booze and fire, but it didn't work out that way. Jim couldn't come, and neither could Jamie's bridesmaid. So it ended up being me, Jess, Jamie, her maid of honour Melissa, and their friend Janet. We could only get 1 yurt, so Jess and I gave it to the ladies and decided we'd tent camp at the next site. Good idea, right? $%&!!
Jess and I were taking his mom's Rav 4, and the girls drove down in Janet's car. We were goin on easter weekend and knew the border would be crazy busy, so we got off to an early start. Jess and I were up at 5:45 and at the border by 6:30...and there was already a monster lineup. I (brilliantly) decided we should go thru the duty-free, which meant we could skip a ton of the line. After a beer purchase we head back to the car, eager to get on the way.
Yea, right.
In the 10 minutes we were inside the store, the parking lot completely filled up. We couldn't move at all for 20 minutes...when we finally did, we were slotted into a lane (1 of 7) so traffic could be streamed back into the line more efficiently. We sat there for well over an hour, losing our minds from boredom, till we finally made it back into the line. Another 40 minutes or so, and we finally crossed the border. Total time? 2 hours, 20 minutes. Yes, that sucked! But...
The silver lining of all this? The girls decided the border wouldn't be that bad, and left a little bit after us. They arrived at the border about 45 minutes after we did...didn't do the duty-free thing....guess how long they were there.
GUESS!
2 hours? They wish. 3? Pishaw! 4? That's how long it took just to get TO the duty-free! If you guess 5.5 hours, you would be correct!
I believe the correct description of this is....AAAAHAHAHAHAHA! Men = resourceful and smart! Women, not so much!
Jess and I stopped for money (where Jess left his bankcard in the machine and walked away...there goes the smart man statement), and Jack In The Box for food. Jess had forgotten to load music onto a flash drive to listen to in the car, so he busted out his laptop in the JITB for a while to complete this task. The locals thought he had palsy or somethin, but...let's face it, he probably does.
Next stop, native liquor and walmart. Miller Lite! Jager! I should point out that I had misplaced my tent and camping gear, and had to purchase new stuff at walmart. Cheapest tent I'd fit in? Check. Shitty 6 dollar sleeping mat instead of air mattress? Check. Camping chair that can hold 225lbs? Che...wait a minute. Other camping chair that can hold 300lbs for 2 more dollars? Muthafuckin check!
After laying waste to the Walmart bathroom and noticing that this walmart was the epicenter of fat people in the state of Washington (I was svelte here!), we headed on our way. Upon leaving the I5, we were welcomed by some of the ugliest towns known to man, and a whole lotta clear-cut forests. Not the prettiest drive. But it was worth it, cuz around 4pm we arrived back in our adopted hood! Ilwaco! Long Beach! Cape Disappointment! Malt Liquor Energy Drinks, Bitch!
We set up our stuff, and went to call the ladies to see where they were. Quelle surprise! They were nowhere near the place yet. Jess and I played on the beach for a bit and chilled till the ladies finally arrived, long after dark. Fire was brought to life by the resident girl scout, and the ladies passed out fairly early after their exhausting day. Jess and I? Not so much. We decided to to go to the beach in the dark. Drunk. Big mistake. Jess swore up and down the strange cloud formation we saw in the sky was the northern lights, somehow. I kept telling him he was retarded, but he started into some nerdspeak lecture that almost convinced me. After 20 minutes he realized...it was a cloud. Just a cloud. Dumbest smart guy I know. Go malt liquor!
On our way back to the campsite, we...got lost. We couldn't find our path back into the park. We found an abandoned boat, and lotsa wood and grass...but no path. At first it was funny, but after 3 or 4 laps up and down the beach, it got a little weird. Eventually we just walked through the bushes, and emerged in the park...somewhere. After consulting park maps, finding nice showers, and laughing uncontrollably, we finally found our way back, eager to tell the girls of our idiotic adventure. But they were asleep. Denied.
People, never EVER let Jess mix drinks for you. He makes the worst jager bombs known to man. When the bomb's still brown AFTER you add the red bull, you fucked up! We both got totally smashed pretty quickly, and discussed everything from drugs to murders to family/friend criminal histories to animal abuse. We found it funny. The family 2 sites over, with their kid's tents totally within earshot...not so much. Those kids are scarred now. Oh, and Jess decided eating hot dogs right off the metal cooking pole was a great idea, and burned his lip. I laughed so hard I coughed on my keystone light. We stayed up drinking super late, and eventually passed the fuck out.
So far? Nature has been our friend. The deer Jess went berserk on during the first trip were out and about. Our raccoon friends were still around, but kept a low profile for the first night. The weather was good, if a bit cold. Everything this was too good to be true. And you know what that means!
Saturday started off nicely enough. Cold but dry weather meant a trip to the beach with the ladies. Jamie proved she's from the interior by asking such deep philosophical questions such as "What are shellfish?" and trying to dig for clams with a stick. You don't believe me? Here, see for yourself:
After the girls wrote their names in the sand and amused themselves for awhile, it was jetty time. Waves ate them, but not nearly as bad as the last time we were there. Nonetheless, they were amused (and wet). Next up, it was onto Long Beach for food and entertainment. Upon arrival, the girls wanted to pose with the same animal statues that we posed on the first time we came down here. There was a big sign that said "No climbing on animals", but the village idiot cleared that up for us pretty quick. Some kids on their bikes rode up, and palsy-boy said:
"Don't worry, the police station is across the street (points awkwardly across the street; almost falls off his bike), but (long pause), 98% of the time they don't care what happens. I know, cuz I've lived here for (counts on his fingers, another long pause)...11 years! Or 13. No, 11! Yea! Umm...bye!"
Welcome to small town America.
Next up was the awesomest museum ever. If you read the blog about the first trip, we were mesmerized by an execution machine. Insert a quarter, watch someone get...well, executed. Here, see for yourself:
How fucking cool is that?
There's no way we could top that, so it was lunchtime...and, true to form, Long Beach offered more hilarity. This was the sign on the door of the restaurant:
Does this even require a witty comment?
After grabbing some firewood, we headed back to camp. The raccoons were out in full force for the rest of the day/night. Jess gave them some baileys, but not very much (this becomes important later). Jess the f'n nerd did some homework, while the rest of us putzed about and did some drinking. Nightfall arrived. I had left a family-sized bag of doritos on the ledge of the yurt, and a fucking raccoon fucking shanghai'd it! No offence, people of chinese descent. Anyways, the little bastard took the bag under the yurt and ate the whole god damn thing. PIG. We fed them various stuff, and eventually gave them names. Steve was the broken-eyed dorito stealer. There was also Bruno, Cyril Sneer, and a host of others unworthy of names.
Everyone else passed out early, except me. Steve decided he was gonna steal diet cokes from the case next to me, which was fairly amusing...till be bit a hole in the side of one. He jumped about 3 feet in the air, screeched, and fucking took off. I laughed so hard my stomach hurt, and no one was there to share it with me. Too bad that little fucker got me back the next night.
Around 1am, the weather got much colder, and a light rain started to fall. I'm not sure what I did to deserve the impending destruction....laughing at raccoons? Leaving beer cans all over the place? Busting out the 6-years-past Bow Wow jokes on Jamie? Anyways, no matter what I did...I'll never forget what mother nature had in store for me that night. Nor will I ever forget how much fucking proverbial lemonade Jess and I made outta lemons in the aftermath.
Ya wanna read about it? Come back in a day or two (or 11), and it'll be here. Same fat-time, same fat-channel. Or blog. Or whatever.
I know what you're thinking...what the fuck is fatty talking about? Is he drunk?
I'm talking about Cape Disappointment redux. Part 2. The encore. And, for the record...no, I am not drunk. This is my first beer. So eff off!
Since Jess and I had such a great time at Disappointment in October (see Road Trip With 2 Bitches, parts 1-3), we decided we'd go back in late march. It started off as a trip for the members of Jess's wedding party to meet and greet in a sea of booze and fire, but it didn't work out that way. Jim couldn't come, and neither could Jamie's bridesmaid. So it ended up being me, Jess, Jamie, her maid of honour Melissa, and their friend Janet. We could only get 1 yurt, so Jess and I gave it to the ladies and decided we'd tent camp at the next site. Good idea, right? $%&!!
Jess and I were taking his mom's Rav 4, and the girls drove down in Janet's car. We were goin on easter weekend and knew the border would be crazy busy, so we got off to an early start. Jess and I were up at 5:45 and at the border by 6:30...and there was already a monster lineup. I (brilliantly) decided we should go thru the duty-free, which meant we could skip a ton of the line. After a beer purchase we head back to the car, eager to get on the way.
Yea, right.
In the 10 minutes we were inside the store, the parking lot completely filled up. We couldn't move at all for 20 minutes...when we finally did, we were slotted into a lane (1 of 7) so traffic could be streamed back into the line more efficiently. We sat there for well over an hour, losing our minds from boredom, till we finally made it back into the line. Another 40 minutes or so, and we finally crossed the border. Total time? 2 hours, 20 minutes. Yes, that sucked! But...
The silver lining of all this? The girls decided the border wouldn't be that bad, and left a little bit after us. They arrived at the border about 45 minutes after we did...didn't do the duty-free thing....guess how long they were there.
GUESS!
2 hours? They wish. 3? Pishaw! 4? That's how long it took just to get TO the duty-free! If you guess 5.5 hours, you would be correct!
I believe the correct description of this is....AAAAHAHAHAHAHA! Men = resourceful and smart! Women, not so much!
Jess and I stopped for money (where Jess left his bankcard in the machine and walked away...there goes the smart man statement), and Jack In The Box for food. Jess had forgotten to load music onto a flash drive to listen to in the car, so he busted out his laptop in the JITB for a while to complete this task. The locals thought he had palsy or somethin, but...let's face it, he probably does.
Next stop, native liquor and walmart. Miller Lite! Jager! I should point out that I had misplaced my tent and camping gear, and had to purchase new stuff at walmart. Cheapest tent I'd fit in? Check. Shitty 6 dollar sleeping mat instead of air mattress? Check. Camping chair that can hold 225lbs? Che...wait a minute. Other camping chair that can hold 300lbs for 2 more dollars? Muthafuckin check!
After laying waste to the Walmart bathroom and noticing that this walmart was the epicenter of fat people in the state of Washington (I was svelte here!), we headed on our way. Upon leaving the I5, we were welcomed by some of the ugliest towns known to man, and a whole lotta clear-cut forests. Not the prettiest drive. But it was worth it, cuz around 4pm we arrived back in our adopted hood! Ilwaco! Long Beach! Cape Disappointment! Malt Liquor Energy Drinks, Bitch!
We set up our stuff, and went to call the ladies to see where they were. Quelle surprise! They were nowhere near the place yet. Jess and I played on the beach for a bit and chilled till the ladies finally arrived, long after dark. Fire was brought to life by the resident girl scout, and the ladies passed out fairly early after their exhausting day. Jess and I? Not so much. We decided to to go to the beach in the dark. Drunk. Big mistake. Jess swore up and down the strange cloud formation we saw in the sky was the northern lights, somehow. I kept telling him he was retarded, but he started into some nerdspeak lecture that almost convinced me. After 20 minutes he realized...it was a cloud. Just a cloud. Dumbest smart guy I know. Go malt liquor!
On our way back to the campsite, we...got lost. We couldn't find our path back into the park. We found an abandoned boat, and lotsa wood and grass...but no path. At first it was funny, but after 3 or 4 laps up and down the beach, it got a little weird. Eventually we just walked through the bushes, and emerged in the park...somewhere. After consulting park maps, finding nice showers, and laughing uncontrollably, we finally found our way back, eager to tell the girls of our idiotic adventure. But they were asleep. Denied.
People, never EVER let Jess mix drinks for you. He makes the worst jager bombs known to man. When the bomb's still brown AFTER you add the red bull, you fucked up! We both got totally smashed pretty quickly, and discussed everything from drugs to murders to family/friend criminal histories to animal abuse. We found it funny. The family 2 sites over, with their kid's tents totally within earshot...not so much. Those kids are scarred now. Oh, and Jess decided eating hot dogs right off the metal cooking pole was a great idea, and burned his lip. I laughed so hard I coughed on my keystone light. We stayed up drinking super late, and eventually passed the fuck out.
So far? Nature has been our friend. The deer Jess went berserk on during the first trip were out and about. Our raccoon friends were still around, but kept a low profile for the first night. The weather was good, if a bit cold. Everything this was too good to be true. And you know what that means!
Saturday started off nicely enough. Cold but dry weather meant a trip to the beach with the ladies. Jamie proved she's from the interior by asking such deep philosophical questions such as "What are shellfish?" and trying to dig for clams with a stick. You don't believe me? Here, see for yourself:
After the girls wrote their names in the sand and amused themselves for awhile, it was jetty time. Waves ate them, but not nearly as bad as the last time we were there. Nonetheless, they were amused (and wet). Next up, it was onto Long Beach for food and entertainment. Upon arrival, the girls wanted to pose with the same animal statues that we posed on the first time we came down here. There was a big sign that said "No climbing on animals", but the village idiot cleared that up for us pretty quick. Some kids on their bikes rode up, and palsy-boy said:
"Don't worry, the police station is across the street (points awkwardly across the street; almost falls off his bike), but (long pause), 98% of the time they don't care what happens. I know, cuz I've lived here for (counts on his fingers, another long pause)...11 years! Or 13. No, 11! Yea! Umm...bye!"
Welcome to small town America.
Next up was the awesomest museum ever. If you read the blog about the first trip, we were mesmerized by an execution machine. Insert a quarter, watch someone get...well, executed. Here, see for yourself:
How fucking cool is that?
There's no way we could top that, so it was lunchtime...and, true to form, Long Beach offered more hilarity. This was the sign on the door of the restaurant:
Does this even require a witty comment?
After grabbing some firewood, we headed back to camp. The raccoons were out in full force for the rest of the day/night. Jess gave them some baileys, but not very much (this becomes important later). Jess the f'n nerd did some homework, while the rest of us putzed about and did some drinking. Nightfall arrived. I had left a family-sized bag of doritos on the ledge of the yurt, and a fucking raccoon fucking shanghai'd it! No offence, people of chinese descent. Anyways, the little bastard took the bag under the yurt and ate the whole god damn thing. PIG. We fed them various stuff, and eventually gave them names. Steve was the broken-eyed dorito stealer. There was also Bruno, Cyril Sneer, and a host of others unworthy of names.
Everyone else passed out early, except me. Steve decided he was gonna steal diet cokes from the case next to me, which was fairly amusing...till be bit a hole in the side of one. He jumped about 3 feet in the air, screeched, and fucking took off. I laughed so hard my stomach hurt, and no one was there to share it with me. Too bad that little fucker got me back the next night.
Around 1am, the weather got much colder, and a light rain started to fall. I'm not sure what I did to deserve the impending destruction....laughing at raccoons? Leaving beer cans all over the place? Busting out the 6-years-past Bow Wow jokes on Jamie? Anyways, no matter what I did...I'll never forget what mother nature had in store for me that night. Nor will I ever forget how much fucking proverbial lemonade Jess and I made outta lemons in the aftermath.
Ya wanna read about it? Come back in a day or two (or 11), and it'll be here. Same fat-time, same fat-channel. Or blog. Or whatever.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)