Camping: a goddam rant

Ive said it before, I'll say it again (and a million more times, if that would help): I. Fucking. Hate. Camping.

I fucking hate it. Ok? Yes. I live in the Pacific Northwest and I fucking hate camping AND Im not too thrilled on hiking either. So everyone who gets all "did she just say she hates camping?" can fuck right off.

No it wont help if I bring an air mattress, and "just" getting really drunk makes camping a million times worse the next morning, ok? I like the comforts of living indoors. I *LOVE* it. You know what I dont love? Smelling like a goddam camp fire for 2 days, sleeping on rocks and shitting outside.

So every year my friends try to see how many FUCKING camping trips they can guilt me into going on. This year they've managed to sign me up for two. TWO. FUCK. Tomorrow night I set out for the goddam forest for a going away camping and hiking fucking extravaganza for two of my friends who are moving to Norway. And Im fucking pissed about it. Its not like every time they want to go camping I guilt them into staying home with me. Im always like "knock yourselves out! See ya when you get back all tired and dirty and burnt the fuck out" but do you think I receive the same courtesy in return? NO. NO. They're always whining "come camping with us! You'll love it!" No I wont, I will HATE it. YOU love it. "Oh, its gonna be so much fun!" No it fucking isnt, its going to suck.

So anyway, Im bringing a bottle of wine and a handful of Xanax and Im NOT FUCKING HIKING. Anywhere. Im getting there late and leaving early and if anyone whines about it they are going to be on the receiving end of some motherfucking wrath (unless Ive taken enough of said Xanex).

So if you're wondering what I'll be doing tomorrow night, I will be in the motherfucking forest, sleeping in a GODDAM TENT and counting the minutes until I can return to drinking in a bar and living in a house like a fucking civilized person.