Friday, October 25, 2013
Camp Tales 2013, part IX: Scatalogical Humor, part II
My new cabin tent I bought a while back. Here's Bennie attempting to drop off a log--don't even think of it, Bennie-Boy!
Pretty slick, eh? Nothing beats a good tent unless it's a good cabin.
Bottom line is that you must camp with only people whom you've known for many, many years, and rather intimately I might add.
Well, if you're sharing a one room primitive cabin or a cabin-tent, you become acutely aware of each others' toilet habits. I'm afraid in close quarters like this, there's no room for modesty.
I've only camped with FOUR people my entire life. My childhood friend, Lynne, Gaylord in Nebraska, Robby and Dooooders. Quite frankly, they're the only people I'd trust to camp with, since they are not offended by my frequent toity-events and scatological humor. Dooders has learned over the years that ignoring my butt-trumpeting only encourages more butt-trumpeting. She's learned to smile and just sadly shake her head.
Bowel-movements, discussion of bowel-movements, jokes about strangers' bowel-movements, toilet paper comparisons, and appropriate-stall discussions are all fairly common place.
"Don't use the second stall over," I noted to Dooders in Ouray. "Someone took a big dumper and didn't flush." Doooders nodded appreciatively.
Oftentimes, you even go to the dumper together if it's multi-stall building and you have only one key to your cabin between the two of you.
And well, if sitting next to one of your oldest friends, listening to an exclamation of sharts, farts, butt trumpeting shocks you, then maybe you're best off camping with total strangers and doing the "walk of shame" to the lavatory sink without eye contact.
It's not like you can stick your head under the stall and exclaim, "My aren't you making a merry assortment of butt-trumpeting. By the way, I'm outta toilet paper. You wanna hand me some?" So there are a few rules, but not many.
Early morning flatulence has always been a strong suit of mine.
"Pffffssssssssssssst! Crackkkkkkkkkkk! POP! POW!" from my lower bunk bed, thunderously shaking the windows of the small cabin.
"Well, good morning to you, too," Doooder noted dryly, her head buried in her sleeping bag.
Really, there are only 4 rules:
1. Always inform your fellow camper of a rotten stall.
2. Always share your Handi-wipes.
3. Always inform your fellow camper if a stall's outta toilet paper.
4. It's always best to keep small talk to a minimum while on the crapper, especially with strangers. So keep the, "It's been pretty warm out lately, don't ya think?" or "I shouldn't have had that whole bag of candy corn last night," observations to yourself.
I'm lookin' out for us all! Stay tuned.