Summertime, and the Livin's Easy
Hmmmmm…what to do in the dog days of summer?
* Is there anything more hypocritical than Husker fan calling out other fans for being “too harsh on a recruit they missed out on?” And yes, I’m pointing to the countless Husker idiots who are accusing Missouri fans of calling Blaine Gabbert names, calling his cell phone, giving him a wedgie…whatever.
All of this from the same fan base who publicly hoped for injury to Josh Freeman in Manhattan last year. All of this from the same fan base who had their radio play-by-play man AND the state’s top sports columnist call out the kid’s MOM for “not giving her son the right upbringing”
How can you people live with yourselves? Why can’t you see this? I don’t even like K-State and certainly don’t have a stake in Josh Freeman…but don’t call Missouri fans barbarians for “badmouthing” Blaine Gabbert…all the while some of your university paid employees are calling out a kid’s mom in public. Not that I would expect anything less of course from you all.
* Has Paris gone off to jail yet? Good God make her go away. And I don’t care if she was built like a mack truck and had the most fantastic rack in the history of cinema in Mean Girls, take Lindsay Lohan with you when you go. I can’t even watch the Weather Channel without some meteorologist comparing a cold front to Nicole Richie. At what point do people figure out that high school never ends? People who cared about the popular kids back then grow up to be people who watch the E! network. I guess Bowling for Soup was right.
* I decided to get the family out of the house this past weekend and go camping. Now I haven’t been camping since the early 80’s when my cousins and I packed in the Winnebago and headed to Lake of the Ozarks every summer. But needless to say, if you would like to see the world as it was in the 70’s, head out to the great outdoors. Not because the campers and campsites all look the same as they did back then (they do), but because most of the people there probably haven’t showered since sometime around the pilot season of Three’s Company.
As I was strolling down the lakeside, and as you might expect, I noticed a wide variety of people. If you haven’t been camping at a recreational woodland near you..let me break down just a couple of the many types of people that are there:
First we have middle age couple with no kids who decided to bring along their beloved child…their pit bull. I’m not sure if it’s because it was Nebraska or it’s because American Idol was over and the riff-raff wanted to get out, but I must have seen three different pit bulls chained up at the campground. Does Spike the trained killer really need to get out into the fresh air that much? Aren’t you about a broken steel link away from having a kid mauled to death? I certainly don’t want to get into that argument with people..but I would think if anything..you can leave the killing machines at home.
Next is the group that we always fell into. Grandma, Grandpa and eleven kids under the age of 10. I’m not sure what it is about fresh air that makes kids go apeshit, but apparently the kids over the weekend were getting their fill of it. Only at a campground can a group of 20 kids turn a stick and a broken toilet seat into a fun and exciting game by throwing it against a dumpster over and over again. Oh they still played other games like scrape my car with their bicycle handlebars and roll through the campground in the middle of the night with their wannabe Tony Hawk skateboards…but the old stick and toilet seat game is apparently still a favorite.
And here’s another thing…why is it so hard to get indoor plumbing at a campground? I understand people are “roughing it”, but wouldn’t’ that be the ONE thing you want to keep somewhat modern? People are watching DIRECT FRICKIN TV outside the 2.1 billion dollar mobile homes…don’t you think it’s time to let the rest of the folks have flushing toilets? I don’t even want to know what the pack of 20 kids did with the that giant pit of foulness that sits below the toilet seat that is barely attached to the outhouse. Horrible.
Anyway, we survived sleeping outdoors, the giant mosquitoes, the couple having sex in the tent 3 sites down as well as the drunken frat boys who apparently thought having a kegger in a state park sounded like a good idea. Perhaps next time I’ll bring along one of those giant bean-bag games those old people play for hours so I don’t have to sit back and watch the dregs of society take me down with them.
Next summer it’s Super 8 for me.