Posts made in April, 2012

Take a hike!

I told a friend that I went hiking the other day. He asked if I had a good time. Of course I didn’t have a good time. I was surprised that he asked, actually. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who understands that hiking inherently isn’t fun. It is not an enjoyable experience. You walk for an extended period of time, how freakin’ awesome! I mean, haven’t you heard the phrase “Take a hike?” It’s meant to be a derogatory statement. It correctly implies that taking a hike is a form of punishment. Someone very wise must have started that saying.

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Good job, Nature

Went hiking the other day.  My girlfriend said “See, aren’t you glad we went hiking? Its such a nice day.”  No I wasn’t happy we were fucking hiking.  I hate hiking.  I can enjoy a nice day in my PJs on my porch, or from inside a bar.  And what’s so nice about the day anyway?  ”They sky is blue and the sun is warm” my girlfriend likes to say.  Oh great, good job nature, your’e doing your fucking job.  No one compliments me for eating and going to the bathroom.  Its what you have to do!  The sky has no choice but to be blue and the sun has no choice but to be warm. ‘Yay physics is working, lets celebrate.’  But, I have the ability to be more powerful than nature.  I can create even nicer days using a tool handed down by the gods.  Its called PHOTOSHOP.  I can improve on the scenery:
This makes nature jealous

That “nice day” that nature made isn’t so impressive now, is it?  I can fill the sky with fucking suns, bitch.  And, why not, lets add a mermaid.
This makes nature cry

Take that, nature!  Your “nice day” now looks like a piece of shit compared to my work of art.  The sky is now filled with 10 times the warmth and the sight of a beautiful fish woman to jerk off to every day.
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A day at the beach, bitch

Went to the beach the other day.  Unlike hiking, I usually enjoy the beach.  The reason I say “usually” is because I learned a valuable lesson this latest time.  I learned that the beach can suck as much as hiking if you’re not careful.  What happened was this:  My girlfriend and I were out wading in the water and I noticed that at this particular beach (which I’d never been to before) there was a sandbar out about 100 yards off shore.  There were several groups of people on the sandbar.  I said that I wanted to swim out there to check it out. My girlfriend said “I don’t think that’s a good idea, that’s really far.”  I took another look out to the sand bar and saw that there were extremely fat people, and old people, and out of shape people all over it.  I pointed this out and she repeated “that looks far.”  So, of course, I got pissed.  ”If they can make it out there I can!” I told her.  She shrugged.  Now I was really pissed, and I knew I had to show her.  If some fucking obese asshole who probably gets winded brushing his teeth can swim out there, I knew I could.  So I took off.  It wasn’t hard… for a while.  About half way to the sand bar it started to get a little tough.  I had enjoyed swimming before that moment, but then and there I realized something.  Swimming is just an aquatic form of hiking.  Swimming is bullshit.  I stopped for a second and took a look at the people on the sandbar.  The old and fat dipshits were staring at me.  ”Fuck them” I thought and started swimming again.  I started pushing myself harder, I wasn’t going to let some lard-nuts show me up.  After about a minute of swimming like this I felt a sharp pain in my ankle.  I looked down and then something hit me in the chest and knocked the wind out of me.  I tried to swear – as I am wont to do – but since I had no breath it just came out as a sort of pathetic wailing sound.  After flailing for a second I finally noticed something large under me.  I probably would have wet myself if I weren’t so busy trying to flail and breath.  I thought it was a shark for a moment, but then I realized what it was.  It was some sort of fucking coral reef.  I had run right into it.  I looked up and all those elderly fat shit-nuggets were looking at me, they weren’t but a few feet away and they were all wearing the same look of “what the fuck is this guy’s problem?”  Then, I noticed something that took the wind out of me even worse than the coral had.  They were all on floats and rafts.  Every one of those motherfuckers had floated out there.  I looked back at my girlfriend… so far away I could barely recognize her.  I wanted to scream like a little girl “help, please! I’m an idiot!” But instead, of course, I just waved at her.  I tried to stand up triumphantly but I slipped on the slick choral and fell on my ass.  I hoped it looked like a macho fall.  I turned around and the whale-wannabees had floated off, obviously annoyed by me.  For a split second…. and you must understand it was an extremely small split… I thought to ask one of them to help float me back.  But I knew what had to be done… all pride rode on it.  I had to swim back myself or die.   It would be much better to have everyone read in the paper the next day of how I died trying to accomplish such a daring feat, rather than hear my girlfriend tell her friends about how I had to be floated back to shore by some 300 pound wet gorilla of a man riding on a couple of pink water noodles.  So I started back.  I was tired WAY before the halfway point this time.  In fact, after a few seconds I could no longer swim the standard front-stroke way.  So I turned and did the back stroke for a while, then when that got tiring I tried the side stroke, then my other side, then I doggie-paddled (I shit you not) then I was trying strokes never heard of.  In a matter of minutes I probably invented strokes that would revolutionize the swimming world, but all I was trying to do was use any muscle not yet failing me.   Then, when I was a little past the halfway point I stopped and treaded water in order to get catch my breath.  I looked over at my girlfriend and I noticed the life guard out, with his little red float, looking right at me.  FUCK THAT! “FUCK YOU” I thought.  I’d rather be brought back in by the fat-pack back there than have some shirtless baywatch reject bring me in to my girlfriend. FUCK THAT.  Before I even started swimming again I had it planned out.  If he came to get me I’d punch him in the face.  I’d beat the shit out of him with the last of my energy and we’d both go down.  Then the story would be that conditions were so bad that not even a lifeguard could endure.  FUCK THAT GUY!  I started again.  This time I plowed through the pain.  My arms would fall off, I was sure of it.  I was going to make it to shore. And I did.  It probably should have been one of the proudest moments of my life.  The lifeguard put his stupid red float away and sulked back into his watchtower.  The bulky-bunch floated out at the coral reef, undisturbed and barely moving. And I was standing on shore.  It should have been a proud moment, indeed, but I looked at my girlfriend and she said “So are you done?  That was dumb.” and walked back to our spot on the beach.  I followed her, barely able to make it, and crumbled up in the fetal position for a few hours.  Oh, and I had massive diarrhea that night, but I have no idea if that was related.

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Bear With Me

Went hiking the other day.  We visited the information center before starting and the ranger there mentioned some hikers before us had said they’d seen a bear, so we should be careful.  My girlfriend asked what we should do if we came across a bear and the ranger said you should stay as still as possible.  Fuck that.  OK, I’m no bear expert, but I’m pretty sure the worst advice you can ever take when you face a bear is to stand still.  There’s a reason that when we are in stressful conditions we experience “fight or flight” not “fight, flight, or stand fucking still.”   Its funny to me that people who are the biggest nature lovers… like this dickbutt ranger… choose to go against nature’s biggest influence: evolution.  The only reason you and I are standing here is because we had an ancestor somewhere down the line that faced a bear, and said to him/herself “holy shit, I better run” and then ran.  And that instinct got passed down to us.  In contrast, the humans who had the instinct to stand still as a board when being pursued by a ravenous, large, beast are partly the reason for the bears’ existence today by giving them sustenance.

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Romance, like hiking, is bullshit

I got out of hiking the other day.  My girlfriend wanted to go hiking to this waterfall out in the middle of bum-fucking-nowhere.  She tried to convince me that it would be “romantic.”  What bullshit.  Romance was invented by women to make men do shit for them.  It would be more forward to say “if you want to have sex with me, you have to do what I want.”  But, women are sly creatures.  Though being blunt would be more effective in the short term, it would eventually wear off.  Logical sentences like that; we men can handle, but eventually we’ll realize “wait, even when I don’t do everything she wants we still have sex.”  And then the woman has lost all the power the phrase once granted her.  But “romance” is ambiguous.  We can’t wrap our heads around it.  And so we are forever enslaved trying to please women in ways we’ll never understand and they are never fully happy with.  I see through that crap, though.  So, I know that a hike out to a remote location where there is some water falling from a high location to a lower location is nothing more than a waste of time.  You know what’s more impressive than a waterfall?  Plumbing.  I can turn on my tap and see the awe of a waterfall.  Every day I take a shower I am bathing in the wonder that is a waterfall.  I don’t need to travel hours away to see it.  And what’s so great about a waterfall anyway?  People are mesmerized by them.  I mean, even the name is lackluster… waterfall… you’re watching water that is falling.  ”Hey water, you’re being persecuted by gravity and we’re congratulating you.” Romantic my ass.

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You ruined my torture!

Went hiking the other day.  We actually went with another couple.  ”Friends” of ours.  After the hike, the guy friend said that he won’t ever hike with us again because I ruin it.  Really?  I ruin it? What about the long monotonous gradual climb up a large rock?  Don’t you think that may have something to do with it? Oh yeah, and hey guy, don’t you remember when you tripped on that root and took a face-dive into the dirt?  I’m guessing that added more to your bad experience than my snide remarks about the banana slug your girlfriend wouldn’t stop fucking looking at all googly-eyed.  The problem with most people who are into nature is that they aren’t open to criticism.  Nature is not perfect.  If nature were perfect it would grow houses so we’d be able to skip the process of cutting a bunch of damn trees down, sawing them up, transporting them, and nailing them together.  I mean, how fucking inefficient is that?  Fuck you, nature.

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Goosebags

Went hiking the other day.  I guess “hiking” is a stretch as we just walked down to the lake.  My girlfriend calls it a “stroll” but I know damn well that’s just a euphemism for a shorter hike.  Its like scooping up a piece of dog shit and calling it something nice-sounding, just because it wasn’t the full log in your hand.  Call it what you want, its still a piece of shit you are holding.  This particular lake is inhabited by multifarious duck-like creatures.  I say duck-like because most of the ducks are not the typical looking ducks.  The most prevalent ”ducks” are some mutant form of duck that almost look like small dogs with short white beaks.  My girlfriend wonders what they’re called, I wonder how they taste.  But the real attraction of this lake are the geese.  As far as I can tell there are only a handful of them, but they always seem to make me feel like I’m surrounded.  I’m pretty positive that geese are the douchebags of the avian kingdom.  I’ve yet to find a goose that respects personal space.  And they have the most annoying honking sound.  I feel like yelling, “I’m right here bitch! No need to honk so loud!” but I don’t want to risk getting my ass kicked by a 4 foot bird in front of my girlfriend.

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Crappy Grasshopper Reference From Crappy 80s Karate Movie Goes Here

Went hiking the other day.  I saw a grasshopper.  My girlfriend was thoroughly amused.  She caught it and made me look at it, as if it were worth a shit. She eventually put it down and watched it hop away… in the grass.  COME ON!  How fucking original, Mr. Grasshopper.  Hopping in the grass.  ’Oh look, I’m a grasshopper hopping in the grass, perpetuating the stereotype imbued by my name. ’    I mean, why don’t you try thinking outside the box some time.  Hop on some other material for a change.  Or try a leisurely stroll through the grass.  Oh wait, you can’t do that because you’re a stupid fucking insect.  I labored up 1,000 feet of rock and dirt so I could see some dumbass bug jumping around.  Nature is so stupid.  At the top of every mountain should be elephants you can ride, or monkeys that give blowjobs.  Not some stupid little creature that hops around adding NOTHING to the advancement of society.  Oh, and this little hopper HAS WINGS by the way… because when you have the choice to jump all day or fucking FLY you are of course going to choose not to fly.  God, why do I agree to come on these hikes.

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Yay…birds

Went hiking the other day.  My girlfriend stopped and stared at a bush for like 10 minutes.  About every minute I would ask what the hell were we looking at but she’d glare at me and motion for me to hush every time I did.  Then, a bird flew out of the bush and my girlfriend asked, “Did you see that?”  Yes I fucking saw that, it was a bright blue bird flying out of the bush we’ve been staring at for 10 minutes with nothing else happening around us on a boring ass mountain. “That was great” she said… yes great, cause I’ve never seen a fucking bird before!  ’Oh, its blue and has feathers and can fly.’  A miracle of nature.  Just like the thousands of other miracle birds I see every day.  To me, birds have to be the ultimate waste.  They can fucking FLY, and what do they do with it?  They migrate and they shit on cars.  It almost makes me angry it is such a waste.  I mean, read a comic book or watch a movie: if we could fly we’d save lives and turn back time and shit.  A bird just wonders where they’re going to land to take their next dump.  If birds learn how to move furniture and change babies’ diapers, then I’ll be impressed.

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About Me

Hi, I hate hiking. But I hike a lot because my girlfriend likes it. This is where I keep a journal of my hiking experiences.

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