Camping is for men who enjoy the great outdoors: staking a tent, stoking a fire, stinking up a storm (unless they want to bathe with the fishes). Me? I'm an indoorsman. Give me a soft recliner and a microwave (preferably with remote controls) and I'm a happy camper, at least in name. I don't care for fishing. (Throw 'em back? Why not leave 'em alone in the first place?) I've never hunted. Hiking is simply jogging with a better landscape, but I loathe jogging. Only one aspect associated with camping is worth roughing it: S'mores. And, to one-up that, S'mOreos. Same concept as the original - take a toasted marshmallow and a Hershey's chunk, except instead of graham crackers, unscrew an Oreo cookie and squeeze the forementioned two ingredients inside. Divine.
Compliment. (kam'-pla-mant) n. an expression of regard or admiration; flattering speech
Mompliment. (mom'-pla-mant) n. an empty expression of hollow encouragement often provided to the child picked last; flattening speech
Blogging is a waste of time and space. Apparently, I am too. After all the crap I've given people for chronicling useless minutia, I decided to make my own. If a tree falls in the woods and I don't tell anyone about it, does it still count as a blog?
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