i still feel like i need to write something here for everyone to read. i cant think of anything so ill just tell you guys a story about myself. im still trying to think of a good one. ok i got it. So im maybe 9, maybe a little bit older, but no older than 11. im "camping" in our backyard and i had the tent all set up and sleeping bags and i had a can of soup, but i forgot to bring a canopener so i sat there for like 30 minutes hitting the top of the can with a spoon, i kept doing it until my hand really hurt and there was a big dent in the can. i was pretty frustrated by this point, so i stopped. I refused to go into the house and get the canopener. so i'd wait like 10 minutes and then hit the spoon on the can again, and then stop and do it again. i did that for like 2 hours. finally i got a little bit of the can open, and when the hole got big enough, i stuck my finger in there to try to pry it open, but it got wedged in there real good, and cut my finger, then the salt in the soup got in the cut and hurt like hell, i jerked my finger back really hard, but i was still pinched in there, it was truly horrible. the can was on my finger for like 2 solid minutes until i used the spoon to get it out. i looked at my finger and it was cut pretty good, but i still wanted that soup, so i wrapped my finger up in a sock, and kept hitting the can with my spoon. when i finally got it open enough to cook it, i realised that i had gotten blood all over the can, and myself. but most importantly, the can had a nice coating of blood all over the top of the soup. i was pissed. so i went into the house, reluctantly, and got a new can, and the opener. I opened the new can in like 1 second, and put it on the stove, inside, and ate it, inside, and then went to sleep. Inside.
So now that you've read this far, you're probably thinking, "what the hell?" or "what is wrong with you, is there a point to this story?" well there is. just bear with me here.
i was maybe 13 and i was hiking with a group of friends. I think it was in the Olympic national forest, it was summertime. It was hot, and when i say hot, i mean it was hot for washington, so it was probably 85 degrees or something. so we are hiking and camping for about 4 days, and on the first day, its early afternoon and the sun is just starting to blaze on us pretty badly so we stop to make ourselves some food. Somebody starts making a fire and i start unpacking my backpack, becuase i have a lot of the food in it. as soon as i open my bag i was confronted with a werid salty smell. it was butter. melted butter. it was on the very top of my bag, i remember packing the butter. i had packed everything in their respective containers and somehow forgot the butter, so after packing all of my clothes in, i just threw the butter on the top of my bag. it had broken open and drowned all of my clothes in oily, salty, buttery goodness. The butter had even managed to get on my back through the bag. I wore the same clothes the whole week, the same socks, the same boxers, the same everything. it was shitty, real shitty.
so back to the reason im sharing all of this with you.
Sometimes you're stupid and you get hurt and sometimes you're stupid and you get buttery. But no matter how buttery you get, you'll always have a stupid story to tell when you're neither stupid nor buttery.
