Skip to main content

Wednesday Weirdos: Beam Bater

wednesdsay weirdo
Each Wednesday I post an example of a strange person, or group of people that I've encountered, been told about, or read about. Guest submissions are welcome and can be sent to swedishskier@gmail.com


One morning while camping over my birthday weekend I awoke to strange noises.

"BANG! Clang, clang, clang!" as what sounded like aluminum bowls fell to the ground.

Awake, cold, and with sore hips, I attempted to roll over and ignore it.

Grunt, grunt, grunt, CLANG!

*Timeout*
You remember when you were a kid trying to go to sleep hearing your parents have a conversation outside your door. There was ONE volume of voice tone that made it impossible not to listen? It was just quiet enough that you had to stay quiet. And this made you stay quiet and listen no matter how boring the story of what mom was bringing to Sunday's church buffet was. Remember that? It was like that.
*Time in*

So I'm listening to this and the train of shit that I don't want to think about it zooming through my brain. "I wonder if its a racoon oh shit, I bet no one put the food away last night, I totally have to pee, I wonder if Rob would want to have sex right now, did I remember enough pair of underwear, I should buy some more smores for whoevers I ate, I should read since I'm awake, that book's fucking terrible, what was the author 19 when she wrote it?" And on and on when

!

"Oh fuck, its a BEAR!" crosses my mind.

More rhythmic grunting ensues followed by "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"

"Did the bear just say fuck?" turns over in my mind.

I strain to hear more; and hear more I do.

More rhythmic grunting, followed by a slew of "Fuck, fuck, fuck, FFFfffuuuuck!" "Oh fuck me, GOD!"

Dude, I think the sound is coming from the next campsite over. That can't be the suburban dad and family that seemed so square. I think that dad had khaki shorts on. You can't rock khaki shorts and bring no lighter for camping and fuck like that, can you? "Is he really fucking like that?" I think. "Kudos, for correcting my judgment."

But then it just keeps going on. And on. AND ON.

I realize there's no woman noises. And the grunting, growling noises do not sound human. Is the suburban dad fucking a bear?

NO way! Maybe he's masturbating. Maybe he's a masturbating bear fucker.

It continues. On and on and on and on and on. And my brain has a German shepherd strength hold on it.

It cannot take this long for anyone to come masturbating.

"YOU ARE FUCKING GOD!"

Wow, did he just call himself god? Jesus, dude, shut the fuck up. Your kids have GOT to be embarrassed. Especially because you're fucking either yourself, or the quietest woman on earth. Oh my god, "I'm so culturally insensitive," I think. "He must be fucking another dude." But wait, one of them must be a bear. You know gaybear stare. No that was carebears.

So eventually it stops and I go back to my tossing and turning, and turn off my brain a little.

I stumble out of my tent a couple of hours later to find a balled up blanket by the fire. Which I suddenly notice moving.

ITS THE BEAR! Nope. But it is the dude who made all the noise. Turns out he was PUKING, from drinking so much Beam.

Making him this week's Wednesday Weirdo: Beam Bater

By the by, Is that the cutest new Wednesday Weirdos logo you ever did see? Gina designed for me and I lurve it!
She also gave me a really dope award
blobaward
Which was outstanding since it fully came on one of those days when my skin just wasn't fitting quite right and everything felt a little lame. Poof! And a unicorn from Gina fixed it all!
Labels:

Comments

  1. dollginaAugust 15, 2009 at 9:04 AM

    Awwwwww, thanks for the kudos! (I hate the word 'kudos'!) Unicorns are awesome. For blobs OR for panties. (Grrr, I hate that word too.)

    Anyway, luff you and yer blob.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Dear Book Pimp

So I wrote this book and I think it's pretty decent. That's the feedback I'm getting anyway, which is bitchin' really since I have a degree in Education, NOT writing. Plus, this is my first try, so really I should be happy, right? But, turns out writing the book is maybe the easy part. The publishing is another story. You have to find a Literary Agent. To do this, you have to write a 1-3 page letter to many literary agents to convince them to read a sample chapter. Send it with a Self addressed stamped envelope (SASE) and wait. there's more but I'm already experiencing a high level anxiety just writing about this part. In my letter, I'm supposed to explain who I am, what my book's about, why I'm qualified to write it, why its sicky illy good, who'll read it, and on and on. AHHHHHhhhhh! This shit scares me. Also, I'm supposed to be witty, clever, literary, and junk. Oh and explain a 300 page book in a sales pitch. I'm not a frea...
10 comments
Read more

Home birth- The real fuckin deal

So the end of pregnancy is for the fuckin birds. I'm sure plenty of you out there know this. There's nothing to say but that you're sick of being pregnant. You're a little sick of the sweet smiles and knowing looks from strangers. You're just all over sick of it. You're spectacularly sick of the: when's your due date how far are you are you having a boy or a girl I bet you're sick of this what hospital are you going to, conversations. You miss when people used to ask about the soccer game you played or the book you're reading. You're sick of swollen handsfeetfaceneckanklesEVERYTHING. Oh and from the beginning of pregnancy until FRIDAY, I had NO stretch marks. Friday my entire lower abdomen erupted into one. giant. stretch mark. So all weekend, I thought, please let this be over soon. Every cramp I felt I welcomed and thought, "whatever work my body does now, it doesn't have to do during labor." Little did I know how much ...
12 comments
Read more

Having Babies at Home

My whole life, I've heard the story of my cousin Anna's birth. And her sister's too. But I hear more about Anna's. My aunt didn't exactly have a lot of love for the medical profession. And her first baby had been a horrible experience. She'd had him wrenched from her at least as much as she "gave him up" for adoption by nursing staff who leered at her and called her unpleasant names. And she loved him when he was born. And she found him when he turned 18 and loved him till the day she died. When she had kids for keeps, she did it differently. She read books and assigned duties and had them at home. She was brave and surely faced many people who disagreed with her decision. But she stuck by her convictions and her desire for a natural birth and won 2 beautiful girls. My mom was there when Anna was born. So was her sister, Kristina. They both still get this sparkle in their eyes whenever they talk about it. My mom says it was one of the most ...
9 comments
Read more