A Sarcastic Overview Of Camping


Ah, the summer break. Perfect for getting away from all the stresses at home, and using the time off to your advantage. But we can’t fly to Shanghai to see sights this year because Dad invested two-fifty grand on a nuclear powered car, which made the government negotiate with us and inspect it before we could go back to the future. So, with our family’s insights, we have to improvise. And go camping.

Here we are, at the very refined part of the world to take its residents and visitors in the beautiful comfort of nature. We begin with setting up our shelter; our unique and comforting shell of fabric to sleep and relax in. And we can do so in absolute bliss, being rocked to sleep by the howling force of wind and rolling gently down a natural brown hill, cushioned comfortably by every rock shaped by God to fit our faces like a jigsaw puzzle, softened by every watery pillow of Earth, some of which that kind and thoughtful dog placed there in advance, and we get a FREE can of coke to come through a slot, before we land in the pure and beautifully scented water, along with the astonishing water flowers and small animals that reside there.

Once we set it back up, we all lie in the corners to evenly distribute our combined mass, and keeps us sane and safe; the distinct distribution of bodies is to ensure that if I do get another sibling, chances are it won’t be nine months from now. After all, that’s all intense. The wind continues to rock us to sleep, and eventually opens the roof to provide us with free showers. Any grime that is on us is absorbed by the floor like a sponge, which we slowly drop into, acting as a lovely brown waterbed. But as I lie in nature’s kind hospitality, I feel bad for the hobo I saw on the street as we drove out of town. Hard metal coins were being thrown at him by passers-by. Oh, how horrific.

Oh, is it dawn? I can’t see past the mud in my eyes. I guess we should have breakfast. I did bring a kettle, but can’t seem to find a socket. The closest thing to which a socket can relate to in these circumstances appears to have some foreign adaption. But never mind that, for we wish not to have our taste buds melted by scalding hot water being poured down our throats, so we eat our breakfast cold. And being at home with nature, we see only green and brown, and so eat only that, starting with the distinct vegetables that are pickles, and as we have been waiting for this day for so long, they have been maturing, not rotting, for six months. And as long as we can keep the five million fire ants off of them, and out of our shoes and sleeping bags (which is no problem, as they are small and can be dealt with one by one, and considering that five million is small compared with many a number), this food gets one up and running. In fact, I just can’t wait to get into that redolent amber-beige cubicle just outside to allow an explosive release of pressure; a fire-eyed nuclear fallout between the cubicle and the Earth under extreme release of force, which could provide free power to this campsite for over three years per pump! Who needs that gym bicycle with various leads on the pedals when you have this magical food?!?!

And now, into the dark and more mouldy cubicle next to that one, for a shower. Showers are fantastically simpler here; one temperature setting, which is unlikely to burn your skin, in fact, you keep yourself warm simply by shaking the muscles in your chest, which keeps your body temperature in good balance, like an elephant balancing on one foot above the ground on a hair. And after that, I have the day in front of me. Hmm. I think I’ll use this time productively. As we can’t play music or watch films, we could see sights. Like that fire ant nest behind the shower, or the outstanding wood lump in the middle of the clearing! There’s even a sign there saying that “Pete” once stood on it! No need to fact check it, we just know! A true indicator that our world is amazing.

So what now? Lunch, I assume. And we have the very uniquely and finely designed and constructed foods that are sandwiches. They’re very simple to make, as you just wedge whatever you can find between two pieces of bread, making them perfect camp food. So one can put anything in them, like flakes of tuna made to dissipate as you touch them, raw bacon if we’re really daring, and even a crunchy, delicious rock! And we’re not even close to Blackpool! Truly, these things are the work of a genius; a normal guy could barely have imagined such things. And I find that having a wasp on the roof of your sandwich without you noticing, does add some spice to it. Makes you notice a stronger sensation in the mouth and especially in the throat. In fact, I have to wash it all down with water, vinegar and insecticides; like the pleasures of drinking habanero relish mixed with milk and antifreeze.

After that, I guess we get to resort to everyday activities, such as a game of chess. Which is nothing like how we do it at home, as we do it on the crazily shaped surface that is our fabric floor. With certain pieces sliding across the board, each with gravity on their side, my king leaps away from the adjacent knight and knocks my Dad’s queen off the board! This game never got so exciting! We need not do electronic games, after all, if you enjoy camping, who needs electricity anyway? In fact, if you need a heater, you need only burn everything you can find. And possibly destroy a forest. And get souvenir second degree burns with every marshmallow you attempt to fry on a splinter of wood, which of course, sets alight too. Use metal, and you get those souvenir burns on the palm! I’m truly thankful for what I get from this.

And once you’ve finished that, which was the only thing that happened after the chess after lunch, we turn in again. No rain tonight, so we don’t have the lovely brown waterbed that we had before. But I do get enough moisture from the temperature at the other end of the scale; my sleeping bag magically fills with a salty fluid that fixes me into my spot so tightly, like being tucked in by a giant spider from Middle Earth. And when the wind comes back, it rocks us again, and the roof opens up to let us see a clear and beautifully light polluted sky; not a single star to shine brightly and keep you awake. Some are many times brighter than the Sun! And when we’re tired of being rocked about, we can simply dig a hole with our bare hands to keep us stationary, and have a warm and rocky blanket blown over us to keep us covered up for the night. And we continue to indulge in the waterbed provided by the glands on our skins, until it erodes the Earth beneath us and lets us sink into a bowl of rocky velvet, until we dry out like a grain of desert sand, and fall swiftly asleep, with the pale expressions that may suggest we’re in an EVEN BETTER PLACE!

And as I lie there, next to my family, who may be late for tomorrow, I contemplate. I now know that out here in the wild, where one can revert to being one of evolution’s fine products, Mother Nature can provide you with a bed unlike any other, and can provide you with surreal and explosive sensations in their unique forms; and I know I want more of this at home. So when I come home, I will go to a tiger zoo, and hopefully, if I can persuade it into severing my spine and dragging me into a pile of raw gazelle meat, I could probably fend for myself by stealing some of their stashed food from time to time. An amazing life, I think, is ahead of me.


I agree, unless I'm going with friends, I hate camping - Ajkloth

nice post - kormo

I liked the writing style, esp. the end words... Congrats! - HezarioSeth

This is my 12th time reading this and I love it! - CityGuru

Probably the best thing I've read in years.
Great job, PositronWildhawk! Keep us entertained. - visitor