Summer Camp Is For Suckers

I was once talking with this girl and she was telling me about how awesome it was to go to summer camp. I wouldn’t know. When she, and I’m sure a good number of you readers, were picking your nose and making boondoggle dildos,  I was busy working. When I was 9, I spent June to August changing shocks and struts on used Kias. By 11, I was handing out fliers for Tu Bishvat singles mixers. 13, re-selling Mentos overstock to Mac’s Milks and Beckers up and down Bathurst.

So when I asked this girl (who like most girls I meet, was eyeraping the shit out of me), to explain what was so fucking great about summer camp, the best she could do was spew hippy jap crap about “having fun.” She also said that she used to get muscle knots in her arm from giving so many handjobs.

Let’s be honest. Jane and Johnny Used-to-go-to-Camp can talk all they want about the blissful joys of color wars and making friends or whatever, but what they really got out of camp was getting off. Hey, maybe some of you Talvid readers are parents. In which case, here’s some free advice: Those 3, 000 clams you’re shelling out to send your darling doosher to Camp Shmeckelsauce is going towards brace-toothed beejers behind Bunk #9. (Unless your kid is fat and ugly, in which case you’re paying for him to piss his pants and pray he’s not put on the ‘skins’ team.) Basically, you’d be better off buying your little brat an escort. At least they know what they’re doing. Trust me.

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2 Responses to “Summer Camp Is For Suckers”

  1. Rich Says:

    bravo!

  2. H-bomb Says:

    laugh out loud.

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