| Roseidous' Camp Journal |
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Day One Dear Dead Bunny�err, Diary: Today we introduced the new campers to their surroundings. They seemed mildly pleased. As for me, I cannot wait for my swimming lessons. I was able to convince Roses to switch my beloved supermodel clones to that position. Luckily, I had been practicing my fake-drowning all year, so I feel I�ll get plenty of action this summer. Unlike last�don�t ask. I burned that particular journal. That reminds me, these three campers seem very similar to the last three. I must stop Roses and Ann before they corrupt the young girls� minds. If only I knew how� Day 2 Dear Dia�Journal: What�s the difference between a journal and a diary? Are you any less of a man if you happen to have a diary? Just in case, I keep all my little �What ifs?� inside a lockbox, under my bed. I hope nobody finds it�I keep everything in my lockbox. As a matter of fact, I think everyone should have a lockbox. So they can put their most embarrassing possessions into the lockbox� Ahh, lockboxes� It has begun. Last night, the girls told me ghost stories. Unfortunately, halfway through the five hours of fireside stories, I had to pee. But the girls wouldn�t let me leave! By the time they had finished, I was so crippled with pain I couldn�t move until dawn. After Roses and I gave them a thorough talking-to, I ran off to relieve myself. I knew I shouldn�t have drank all those Root Beers before the stories� Day 3 Dear Manly-type Journal: I suspect Roses has been rewarding the girls for evil behavior towards me. For example, while at my swimming lessons, my towel �mysteriously� disappeared. Now, this wouldn�t have been a problem, but beforehand, I had allowed myself to �accidentally� loss my speedo while swimming. Then my clones had to be suddenly called to another matter, and I was left butt-naked in the lake. Using a makeshift bush, I managed to cover myself as I made a dash to the councilor�s cabin. When dressed, I returned to the lake, only to find Roses with the girls, eating ice cream sandwiches. And what do you know? My towel is lying perfectly on a rock by the shore, where it wasn�t before. Then Roses tells me there aren�t any more ice cream sandwiches. But I tell her those were my ice cream sandwiches! That they were my personal property! Roses said she had no idea�even though every wrapper had my name written on them. I tell you, I�ll get these conspirators, even if it kills me! Which it probably will� Day 4 Dear, umm, Girlfriend-No-One-Knew-I-Had: Today I found out that the makeshift bush I had used was actually a species of poison oak. I cannot express the joy I felt when finding the blinding red rash. If only there was some way to thank those girls. Unfortunately, they found a way to thank me. In the counselor�s cabin, on the bulletin board, was a Polaroid of my naked rear-end as I was running to the cabin. Ann and Roses both deny having taken the picture, or putting it up. But they couldn�t help from laughing� You know, I cannot help but wonder if Tyrael was also in on the scheme. He was decidingly absent that day for the swimming lessons�a fact I had thought was to my advantage at the time. So far, it would seem everyone had a part to play in yesterday�s events. With that in mind, I now know there is no one I can trust at this camp. I must figure something out�something to repay them for this dern rash! Argh! Why won�t it stop itching?! Day 5 Dear *sigh* Blow-Up Girl: Today the camp has begun preparation for a dance. A dance? There are only three frickin campers here! Apparently, though, there is a camp next door with three other male campers. I hope the counselors over there are hot chicks. Wait, what am I thinking? The other counselors here are female, and look what it�s gotten me? Hmm, I must band with my brothers in order to deliver justice. Tomorrow, I think I�ll pay a visit to the other camp. The male campers may share my concerns. Day 6 Dear�aww, who cares? Dear Myself: While the campers and counselors were distracted with dance lessons from Vinnie, I slipped out and drove over to the other camp. It took me about three hours to navigate through the twisting forest roads. And no, I refuse to admit I ever got lost. Slipping in and out of another state�s border does not count as getting lost! That dern bunny just doesn�t know how to read a map correctly! Well, when I finally arrived, I found out the camp�s name was the Pork-chops and Applesauce Camp. All these names made me hungry, so I invited myself to the camp�s dinner. There I found all of the people to be male. Thank goodness! But I knew it would take some convincing�they had started months before us, and it was obvious that they were all starved for female affection. I told them of my rambling tale of female treachery, but I could see the hormone-induced teenaged campers were not interested. They only perked up when I mentioned a woman. However, the more experienced male counselors nodded in understanding. Disregarding the young campers, the counselors and I met in their cabin, and plotted. The dead bunny and I would have retribution� |