Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Ode To a Flushing Toilet



   As most of you know, the “Annual Penwasser Brothers Camping Trip” (strangely, none of the women in our family ever want to go) was held this year at Burlingame State Park in Charlestown, Rhode Island.
  It was three days spent reveling in the glories of nature, the camaraderie of one’s family, and the freedom of relieving one’s self in the woods.
  Even though my son and I returned home two weeks ago, I haven’t had a chance to tell you much about our trip.  Due to other family requirements, answering “Blogger” awards, bathroom remodeling, and creative mental lethargy, it wasn’t until today that I actually had a chance to sit down to write.
  The below is a poetic summary of our idylls in the great outdoors.  Similar to Thoreau’s Walden (in that both have trees), I wanted to share with you my personal epiphanies that nothing is so beautiful as a tree (or toilet paper) and you should never wipe with a plant that has three leaves.
  I wish I had more time, but I am off yet again.  Only this time, it’s with sadness that I leave.  For I’m taking my son to Virginia Tech where he’s studying to be an engineer.
  Despite my initial disappointment that he won’t be the type of engineer who drives trains (I really wanted one of those bitchin’ hats), I am at peace knowing he’ll eventually be able to get himself a high-paying job.
  And be able to afford putting us all up at a swanky Rhode Island resort instead of grubbing around a filthy campground.    

Camping Limerick
If this tent is rockin', it's frikkin' windy out
There once were six brothers and sons
Who thought camping would be great fun.
So they loaded up their gear
and plenty of beer.
Leaves of three, do not pee
But, when looking for toilets, saw none.

Camping Haiku

Unplanned thunderstorms
Make my underwear soggy
Stupid frikkin’ rain!






As if ANYbody believes those red cups hold soda
Camping Cinquain

Budweiser
Canned beer
No alcohol allowed
We Use Red Cups
Beer



Camping Epitaph

Here I pee,
hand on junk.
Didn’t see
the goddamned skunk.


Camping Quatrain

Hamburgs, hot dogs, beans, and chips
Potato salad, queso dip
Our cooking skills not world-reknowned
Tomorrow, it’s pizza out in town.

Camping Diamante

Energy
Exciting, Exhilarating
Hiking, Playing, Swimming
Games, Beach, Beer, Doughnuts
Drinking, Eating, Farting
Lazy, Listless
Slugs

Camping Acrostic

                            Red Cups hold forbidden           
                            beer.
                               FArting contests under
                               the stars.
                                Men being men with  
                                other men.  Wow, that      
                                sounds kinda gay.
                                Peeing next to a tree
                                in the dark.  Or on
                                your brother’s tent.
What else can we toss into the fIre?
       Have you guys been drinkiNg?
         Not anymore.  It’s all Gone.

17 comments:

  1. I just posted and want to get to my walk but you sucked me in with your post title. (You always do). It is well worth my walk's wait...... your camping limericks and odes. What a men's campout that must be. That line of your son supporting you probably just made him quit school and "ride the rails." :)
    Cheers.... Manzanita

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  2. Always essential to sneak in the alcohol, otherwise it's pretty much sitting around in the woods.

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  3. Funny AND clever! Where were you 20 years ago? I coulda used a man like you. Over and over again!

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  4. Those were awesome and clever poems! Such fun to read!

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  5. You are a true poet.

    These were great.

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  6. Yup. Guys who drink and stink together...well, drink and stink together.

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  7. I am thinking that skunk wished that you had saw him too! Poor skunk! LOL

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  8. look at mr fancy pants and his writing skills! nicely written & i liked your skunk epitaph. eww!

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  9. You are too funny Al. I loved the limerick about your junk and the skunk. Why would the Penwasser women ever want to join you guys? They get 3 days of no seats left up, no dribble on the rim, no snoring, snorting and farting in bed. It's paradise for them.

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  10. Like Average Girl, I have sympathy for the skunk. This is an awesome, creative post, though.
    xoRobyn

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  11. I LOVE the limerick. You have a talent, sir.

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  12. I especially like your Diamante, because my son had to do some recently for school.

    Three days camping with smelly, farty, burpy, drunken men? what woman would not love that? ;)

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  13. Love the funny poetry. I'm pretty sure the first one rhymes with the man from Nantucket. :)

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  14. @Manzanita: As I dropped him off at school yesterday, my son DID mention that he would like to be a hobo. I kicked him out of the car, shouting, "Daddy needs a fancy rest home! Go!"
    @Sub-Radar-Mike: Farting wouldn't be so hysterical then. It would just smell.
    @Nancy: Sadly, it's over and done with, nowadays.
    @Eva: Ever been to Burlingame? We were the guys with the red cups.
    @AC: Thanks!
    @dbs: All that and no shaving, too.
    @Average Girl: Skunks, raccoons, and chipmunks with attitude. Ahhhhh, the glories of nature!
    @Sheriln: I are enjoy writing gooder as I can. It be fun me for putting words together.
    @Barb: Interestingly, my daughter is the only one of ten women in the family who says she'd like to go. Although, this year she went to Ocean City with her friends. Do you think she was just being polite?
    @Robyn: Damn skunk wants me to sign a waiver.
    @Lemons: Thanks. As do you.
    @alittlesprite: Yeah. We're real hotties.
    @anthony: I love haikus. Just string together three lines of five-seven-five syllables each and-bingo!-poetry.
    @Laila: Well, it was inspired by the good people of Nantucket. Whose d....never mind. Let's put it this way, they're physiologically talented.

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  15. Whaaaa- campin' acrostic= amaaaazzziinngg

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  16. And now it's all over. But, it's not all bad news.
    I bought more beer.

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