Them Propane Tanks Ain't Gonna Blow ThemSELVES Up!

I’ve been something of a camping wuss this year. A (hypothetical) reader could replace the phrase “this year” with “this life” and not really diminish the veracity of that statement. In fact, one could delete both “camping” and “this year” and still have a generally accurate statement about me. Wholesale lifelong wussiness notwithstanding, however, if we focus solely on camping and consider a shorter term comparison (i.e., 2009 vs. 2008), then this year, indeed, has been one of relative wussocity.

One time? That’s all I could muster up? Why, I might as well turn in my L.L. Bean card! It certainly appears that my spring purchase of six cases of bear repellant, while admirably optimistic, may have been made in haste. Not to worry, though … that stuff can provide hours of entertainment at holiday parties:

Smokin' hot 6'2" slightly tipsy blonde: Hey Dead Acoooooorrrrrnnnn ... look who's under the mistletoe ... (erotically running her tongue across her upper teeth and growling seductively)

Dead Acorn (leaning in ever-so-slowly with just a hint of a suggestive half-smile, then blasting her in the face with bear spray moments before the impending kiss): HAHAHA WOO MERRY CHRISTMAS!! HAHA!

SH62STB (running blindly around the room smashing into walls): AAAGGHHH!!! IT BURNS!!! AAAAAUUUUGGGGHHHH!!!

I guess there’s a bit of time left before the more valid excuse of “Are you out of your fucking mind? It’s fucking FREEZING!” replaces mere wussitude as my primary reason for not heading into the woods. Maybe explicitly stating the goal of going camping on Oct. 2nd will light a fire under my ass to actually go, well, light a fire next to my ass (I have a process by which I determine my minimum allowed proximity to a fire based in large part on number of beers consumed. The actual formula is a bit beyond the scope of this post, but suffice it to say that I haven’t caught fire in some time). On the other hand, to think of posting said goal on this blog as “explicitly stating” it seems to fall into that realm of the “tree falling in the forest with no one to hear it” philosophical thingy. (By the way, the answer is "yes." Yes, it does make a sound, since sound is merely a vibration propagating through some medium. There’s no perception of that sound if there’s no one there to hear it. It’s kind of a stupid question. Damn philosophers.)

We’ll see what happens. Maybe I’ll even take the hell-hound, though I’ll probably get busted for hunting without a license when she brings down a wolf (I'm sure there's another charge for the more likely scenario in which she befriends one and insists that we bring it home so that she can have a playmate). If I end up not going, though, I’m getting a label maker and changing all my propane equipment from Coleman to Colewuss.