Good Morning Campers: The Expose

Aloha, Konbanwa!
Warning, This Post Is Written By The Resident Drunkard, Sam.
For Becky's Version of Events, Click Here.
It was a cold morning, although I had managed to fall asleep next to the sidewall of the tent, where the rainwater-condensation-combo pooled into, though. I was in good company...

So yes, we went camping this week, despite so many signs from fate telling us we were all to die, yet, we're all alive, well physically. There was the ominous falling tree, the inquisitive "WHY" number plate and the fact it was to be THE wettest day for 50 years.

Of course, we then had "The Tom; the lost phone, the low battery and lost keys saga" which ended up with Tom being driven to our secret location after missing the bus. Whilst myself, Mr Joe and Bev attempted to check out a local inn to pass the time. After sitting down and looking at the menu, we came to the horrible realization that the price, for even a small plate of chips was extortionate*, for we had mistakenly wandered into some, hushed, posh pub... We had to establish a plan to get ourselves out:

Bev came up with the unused "Let's just get up and run" technique while Mr Joe, with a sly, smug smile leaned forward and whispered:

"I've got it... You two, are a ravenous couple and run off to the bathroom with each-other, while, I, am an important business man who must make an important phone call.."

No, I really don't know either...
So, basically we ended up storming out of the place, with me loudly shouting
"Well, if he isn't coming here, we'll leave!".

Tom eventually arrived, to find us sat opposite the offending restaurant, alert and ready to run from some sort of angry Mexican chef and his prized, oversized IKEA knife set.

We returned to camp, where the lovely Becky, Rach and Jamie had set up the little Glastonbury of our own. Just, without the thousands of other tents, serious mud problem, stack of weed and live music... So, I guess, not like Glastonbury at all**.

Yes. I'm sorry the picture is not better. I was hardly able to take a beautiful one at the time.
I believe I fell into the grass to watch some stars after this, so ner, to you.

However though... From this moment, the few hours afterward, when the first, offending can was cracked open, normal time and energy, sober time and energy is disrupted by an evil, terrible substance, in the form of cans of Strongbow, Stella, Smirnoff*** and some other liquids secretly brought in regular looking, concealed plastic bottles... Oh, aren't we the rebels?...

I remember everything though, I never forget what happens. I remember the sun setting, I remember the sky's billowing grey clouds shifting away to "Hell" for the night. We talked for at least 4 hours. It was pretty perfect.

I remember the night, I remember staring at the stars and singing, very loudly.
I remember falling into thick reeds and screaming random words, as well as attempting to speak Japanese.
And other such moments like when I found myself running back to camp after hearing fireworks, screaming:

"GET DOWN! THE HUNS ARE COMING!
I HAVE 54p TO GET US TO SAFETY!"

...Yeh. Well, screw you too.

You want more absurdity? How about Mr Joe's "Blue eye"? It's cause?
A high-speed, low-range, light-weight, inter-tentary ballistic weapon, in this case, a BITESIZE TWIX. You think I'm joking? Take a look:

And you thought the calories were what was bad for you Mr Joe****...

Of course, the worst catastrophe, occured beyond any measurable scale...
Where, an innocent, fantastically-awesome tasting cake was destroyed into thousands of cake-dust-fibres and cake-blobs that resembled what can only be described as something a cat would eject from its little kitty face. It was also in my hair (Yes Joe, PROPER cake hair) and stuck to the side of my jeans. Evidence of the evil, cat-cake-mashup seen, below.

We're just thankful it was cake...

Friends, this is the life.

Sam.
Mood of the Day: Pitched-Up-Tented-Tiredness
Listening To: The Mario Football Strikers Charged Menu Tune
Current Theory: Ice Cream Improves Brain Logic
Quote of the Moment: "That's not very communist of you..."

*Which seems to be the buzz word of my life recently, apart from words like "Sandwich", "Microwave" or useful, well known phrases such as "Oh f***".
**If you came for a blog that made vague sense and you are now upset with the service you are receiving you can call: 0900-No-Body-Gives-A-Damn-Start-Your-Own-Blog-And-Try-It.
***Usually marketed under the secondary brand name "Lemonade".
****And WOW Mr Joe, your snoring, is UNBELIVABLE.

Final Health Warning:
According to dearest couzin Alice, who has been locked away in her home, you can now, comment YOURSELF on the evil, soul-destroying "social network" MySpace.
I guess that means you can now hold conversations with your former self.
I think Alice has a new pastime...