A Snyder In The Sun

A Snyder In The Sun

Camp Throwback: Part Deux

FRIDAY MORNING
Where the hell am I? What is that smell?! Oh wait, it's my breath. Why am I stuffed inside this bag like a poor mans burrito? Am I still in my clothes from yesterday? Yup, sure am. Ughhhhh, my head hurts. Time for some water, Tylenol, and grub. STAT. Mmmm, sausage and French toast sticks!
Man, things escalated quickly last night huh? Instead of drinking my dinner (Guinness YUM) I probably should've eaten the delicious hotdogs at dinner. Lesson learned...sort of.
We started with cornhole, which is exactly like it sounds...throwing bags stuffed with corn into holes?  So fun. I highly recommend. As with most things, cornhole is more fun if played whilst buzzed. Drunk cornhole is even better. We continued to play long after the sun set. Darkness, meet flashlights propped under the cornhole holes. It worked like a charm. Something that did not work like a charm? My girl Gwen's overhand bag throwing strategy. Turns out that cornhole is more of an underhand toss kind of game.
Then there was beer pong. What the hell happened?! I am normally on FIRE with those little balls. Nope. I didn't land a single cup. I sucked total ass. And all in front of Brittany Gibbons. Fml! Wait, Brittany wasn't very good either...in fact, we pretty much sucked together. Yay! Don't worry folks, I hear she's gearing up for next year's pong. I call winner!!
FRIDAY AFTERNOON
Let's decorate some white shirts for Field Day tomorrow. Tasha and I joined our cabin mates at the pavilion and went to work with markers and puffy paint. Note to self: bring puffy paint next year because people covet that shit like gold. Seriously.
I decided to write out EIGHT (our cabin #) on the back of my skintight wife beater. Man I'm clever. And Camp Brokeback on the front. My husband came up with that as soon as Camp Throwback tickets went on sale. He cracks me up. For shits and gigs, I jazzed up the shirt with the elegant word CUNT written down the side. It's a cabin #8 thing, you wouldn't understand ;)
Looking around at all the other cabin's shirts was hilarious. Can we talk about the Herpes shirt please? Classic...and classy! I guess cunts and herpes are just part of the camping experience? Haha, gross.
FRIDAY NIGHT
Time to get ready for a 90's dance party! Andddddd, I failed. I just didn't put any thought in it before I left for camp. As a result, I forgot my flannel (pretty much a staple at this thing) and just rocked a Pearl Jam t-shirt and some Chuck Taylors. On the positive, I was super comfortable which came in handy when I danced my fucking ass off all night!! Oh my aching body.
Everyone looked great and had a great time. The decorations were fantastic and the cookies looked too good to eat. So I didn't. But I wanted to.
After the party, very very late, a few of us made our way back along a path to a different fire pit. Fire a blazin, we talked, drank, and laughed more of the night (well, morning I guess) away. I looked around with a huge (read: DRUNK) smile on my face. These people are awesome. I don't want to sleep.
But sleep I did. This time with PJs on.

Feel free to pass me around to your friends.  I like to be shared ;)