Another camping tale
Camping is on the same level on the fun scale as paper cuts, bending back a fingernail, and listening to the noise made by an old dot-matrix printer for eight hours in a row.

My dad bought a tent in 1980 (I was 13) and every holiday after that was a camping holiday. They were all shit. The only non-shit holiday I can remember was when I was allowed to take my best mate along for the week when I was 15. The only reason why it wasn't sit was once we'd all settled down for the night, me and my best mate used to take turns reaching into each other's sleeping bags and (quietly) wank each other off. He had a bigger dick than me, and more pubes.

When I had a family of my own I took them with a big group of friends to Germany, for a camping trip. It was shit. It was freezing as soon as the sun left the heavens, and German youths would come and kick the tents at night. I missed getting a direct hit to the head from "das boot" by an inch one night. We stuck it three nights before we booked into a B&B.

We had one night away in a tent in Lincolnshire. That was quite nice. No, really.

Then we had three nights away in North Wales with some friends. It was cold and always raining. The tent and interior was a mud bath. When it came to packing up we couldn't be arsed to fold up the filthy tent and we chucked it in a bin instead. That was a happy moment.

Camping = shit. I would rather share a prison cell with Rolf Harris whilst dressed as Jimmy Krankie than spend another night in a tent.
(jrd, Fri 15 Aug 2014, 15:22, 4 replies)

you're a really slow learner

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Fri 15 Aug 2014, 15:25, closed)

his last sentence was good though
i shall be stealing that
( rachelswipe with a fork, Fri 15 Aug 2014, 15:32, closed)

I've already added it to my wank bank.

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Fri 15 Aug 2014, 15:33, closed)

bit gay

( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Fri 15 Aug 2014, 15:38, closed)