"It's not a zoo, it's a captivity warehouse." - Kelsey
Me: Oakland's stadium is in a pretty shitty part of town.
Steve: Yeah...Oakland.
:: Give'r on the river ::
"I'm so uncool I should drive a mini-van." - Keith, a 40-something guy we were rafting with. He was upset that he doesn't know what music is cool anymore.
"I don't understand why people come up to other people and say 'Wow, you look tired.' Basically they're saying 'You look like shit.' Would you walk up to a fat person and say 'Gee, you look really full?' No, of course not." - Keith again.
This past August long weekend was a doozy. We went rafting just outside of Princeton, and it was tons 'o fun. We'd went once before, two years ago, and I definitely wanna go next year.
We got a bit of a late start on Friday, because everyone worked til at least 5:30, but we eventually got our asses movin' in the right direction.
On Friday it was late once we got there and got settled in and set up, so we just started drinking. Heavily. Well, Chris and Sean did anyhow. Me, Jenna and Rachel probably had a few - I was reasonably buzzed, but Chris and Seaner were something else, let me tell ya.
Firstly, they were yelling at each other and ending up rubbing an empty salt and vinegar chip bag on each other - on Sean's face and Chris' shirtless back. It scratched both up nicely, and combined with the salty and vinegary residue on the bag, rest assured it stung 'em both good. As if that wasn't weird enough, the next thing we all knew, the two of them were standing 5 feet apart spitting on each other. The game ended when Sean got one right in the eye.
Classy fellas, really classy.
The next morning bright and early, after some delicious bacon and eggs, we hit the river. Me in my kick ass raft, and Chris and Jenna in the Party Barge - a big square inflatable 6ft x 6 ft contraption that, on first glance, wouldnt appear to be river-worthy. But it kicked ass.
We cruised down the river for about 3 hours, stopping periodically to drink beer and/or swim. Then lunch and back for the second leg of the river - for most people.
The seven of us, you see - Us plus Sean's cousin Steve-O and his girlfriend Sara - were stuck back at the campsite because a certain brother of mine locked his keys in his truck and BCAA had to come get 'em out. Now this tow truck guy (named Doug) could not unlock the doors, cuz he was clueless. He was there for well over an hour, fiddling with his coat-hanger like tools, trying to pop the lock.
Then Jenna did it.
To show how inept this guy was, here's a quote. Keep in mind Chris' keys were sitting on the seat. No windows were open. No opening of any kind - other than the cracks wide enough to stick the coat-hanger thing in.
Doug: Well I can't pop the lock. What we may have to do is just get the big, long tool and fish the keys out.
Chris: Yeah, well thats great, but how are you gonna do that?
Doug: We'll go through the door.
Chris: And once you do that, how are you going to get the keys on this side of the door?
Doug: Hmm...good point.
The next day was a scorcher - 41 degrees according to somebody who was there. So we again hit the water. The first leg was fun again, lots of relaxing, beer drinking and watching Sean and/or Chris fall out of the boat. Although none of them fell out quite like I did after lunch.
So we're heading down the river, and my boat had me, this annoying but nice kid named Devin and his whiny bitch, anorexic girlfriend Sam. Now Sam didnt wanna come at first because she "didn't wanna get wet." (who comes rafting and doesnt wanna get wet?)
And for the most part, other than the odd splash, the whiner stayed dry.
Then our raft capsized.
Beer everywhere. Sunscreen down the river. Sandals floating away. Man Overboard.
We were in a spot called The Black Hole - really the only real rapids on the whole river. We ended up getting smashed into a big rock and then we flipped. I managed to jump out and wade off to the side - the water wasn't very deep - but then I still had to get through the rest of the small section of waves sans watercraft. So I just floated through, occasionally banging my legs on rocks, and getting a few chunks taken out of my fingers. Nothing major, and itwas actually kind of fun. Since it was so hot it was definitely refreshing.
And even better, we didnt really lose much - Devin grabbed the boat, Sean had one of my sandals, his step-sister Brittany had the other one. We even managed to reclaim the sunblock. We lost a few beers, but they were Devin's so I didn't care.
Just too bad we couldn't lose his girlfriend.
Once we were all back onboard, Sam started complaining. Her arm was so sore "it can't move" her poor legs were bruised and cut and sprained. She was tired from thrashing in the water, etc etc.
She hopped on one foot the rest of the weekend because she was apparently too hurt to walk. Well maybe if you weighed more than 35 pounds you wouldn't have taken such a beating you retard!
God we all hated her.
Then came Sunday night - the party night. When we went up in 2003 we had a rule - nobody could come home with any beer. So if that meant drinking to the point of alcohol poisoning on the last night, then dammit that's what you'd do.
We all had plenty of beer left.
Because we had so much beer we changed the new tradition slightly - You could come home with minimal beer as long as on the last night you did your absolute best to drink it all. No pussying out, basically.
I ended up puking 5 times after doing back-to-back beer bongs, and last I saw of Brittany she was lying in the dirt behind her dad's truck puking beside her. A lot of the night is a blur, but that's really the whole point.
Next year is gonna be sweet.
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