Rocks: A story of inspiration

Once again, I bring you a true story. Mainly, this is because I’m completely broke on the ideas front, but also because this is a beautiful hilarious story that at least one person might enjoy reading.


Before we start, some details. At the time of this story, both of us were only 14 years old. Not even old enough for a learner’s permit in my state, much less a driver’s license. The timeframe of this was not much more than an hour, and it occurred at roughly midnight. Let me also describe my mother’s vehicle to you. My mom drives a 1995 Ford Explorer Sport. This monstrosity is painted a garish purple and has the response time of a sloth on painkillers.


Late on one summer night about two years ago, my good friend H. J. Eisele and I were bored about my house. After persuading my mother to let us drive her car about the neighborhood (as in, we asked her and she said yes), we went speeding off.

Jacob took the wheel first, and he had his five minutes of fun zipping about my neighborhood, scaring the residents and whatnot. We returned to my house and switched seats. It was my turn to drive. I set off about the road, and when we reached the main road, I turned the vehicle to turn around and head back. However, I attempted to do this on a fairly steep hill, and as I mentioned before, this car has about as much power as a sleeping fat kid. As I turned the car, I eased off the gas to try and make the turn. However, I forgot this thing doesn’t move, and we ended up stuck perpendicular to the flow of traffic, blocking both lanes. I gently brought my foot down onto the accelerator to try and gingerly right the vehicle. Apparently, the car did not like being told what to do, and with a triumphant roar, it careened off the road and into the grass. In this grass was a pile of landscaping rocks. When the car finally slid to a stop, we were mere inches from beaching this beast on the rocks like a floundering whale. After much coaxing, wrangling, and cursing, we freed the car from it’s precarious situation and returned it to the driveway, miraculously unscathed.


However, the story does not end here.


See, after two years, Jacob has managed to procure a driver’s license from the government. After a night of zipping about in his less-garish Nissan, we were returning to my house. On the opposite hill from the one where the Rocks occurred, there is an intersection, with a house next to it. This house has some decorative rocks similar to the ones in the previous story. As we tried to determine where to go next, Jacob slammed his vehicle into reverse and blindly backed up.


Into the yard, and onto the rocks.
Luckily, only the underside of his rear fender was scratched, but still, revenge is oh so sweet.

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Sorry about the filler and the lack of posts. I know this story sucks but I actually have real-life things happening now. That plus I suck at consistent updates.

PS. I am currently working on a layout, so maybe this site won't look like dog shit any longer.

The Intersection of Doom (A True Story)

Image from Google Maps: The greatest thing ever

Note: This tale is completely true. These accounts have been told to me by various sources within my memory.

I've lived here in the middle of nowhere for nine years. For the majority of those nine years, I have lived in this house (about a fifteen minute walk from where I last lived). Near this house is a Best Buy. Apparently this Best Buy is so busy during the day that it's parking lot gets an intersection to itself. This intersection is placed on the busiest street in the whole goddamn city. At this intersection is the crosswalk nearest to my house. Across the street from my house is a Burger King. I like to eat at Burger King sometimes. This fucking intersection plans on ruining my enjoyment of Burger King every damn time.

See, since this intersection is only there to regulate traffic for the parking lot (since I live in an area where everyone drives like a jackass, it has to be there), the stop light apparently ONLY works when there are cars waiting to leave the lot. Despite the fact that there is a crosswalk there. Of course, there is a button attached to the stop light for pedestrians to signal that they wish to get across. However, the absurdly long time you have to spend waiting on the light leads me to believe that the button is there purely for decoration (or the stop light has a twisted sense of humor).

Once the stop light begrudgingly acknowledges your existence, it starts the agonizing countdown to red. Finally the little white stick figure shows up on the display, and you believe it a gift from God. But no! Apparently getting across the street turns into a race against the clock. And your only consolation prize is getting hit with a car. If you manage to sprint across the street in the small amount of time given, you walk away feeling accomplished, but behind your back the stop light is laughing at you, because it knows something you don't at that moment. You have to get back across.

I hate you, stop light. I hate you.

What your cat's body language means

Hey! This is exciting, I promise!

Ha, I'm just kidding. Hello! I'm H. J. Eisele, Senior Box Correspondent. I am here to bring you weekly boxes. Some may be more interesting than others. I shall be pointing out the pros and cons of each box. So, without further ado, let us begin!

This is a cake or pastry box! This box is simple and elegant. As you can see, it comes pre-assembled, and all you have to do is inconvenience yourself long enough to place something into the box! Now, unfortunately, the lovely bow you see in the picture does not come pre-assembled onto the box, so if you're an idiot like myself, you're going to want someone else to put the bow on the box, because otherwise you're going to show up at a formal occasion with a box with some food inside, and what a horrible crisis it would be that you don't have a bow on the top of the box.

So that's about all I can think of about this piece of shit lovely box. And now, I'm going to be off to a magical land where I'm going to ride mystical unicorns bed because I am not a nocturnal owl, and I also have a social life outside of writing about boxes. 

Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a good night.

New theory believes hamsters to control universe; Catholics not convinced

[Americana, America] A new study from officials at CRRT (The Center for Research in Retarded Topics) presents a new theory that hamsters may be in ultimate control of the universe, including the fate of everyone's lives.
The new 'Hamster-wheel' theory provides an explanation for life cycles, creation and destruction, and other things as "a hamster wheel spinning through eternity." Many people have already embraced this belief, going as far as to create a church for these new 'hamster-gods' and, in more severe cases, sacrificing human blood for their new deities.
However, many skeptics, including the Catholic church, continue to ridicule the new idea, claiming it is 'blasphemous, slanderous, and grounds for an inquisition.' The Pope has already confirmed three dates on it's Hamster Inquisition tour, including France, England, and Spain. Many people, however, believe this is unfair and are taking action against it.
"It's just not right," Steven McBalmy, 32, says. "We have a right to believe whatever we choose, and if some of our beliefs are unorthodox, so what? Didn't Catholics used to get murdered in the streets?" Steven has taken action by creating LOLcats against Catholics, a not-for-profit organization that allows people to sit on their ass and put captions on cat pictures as an act of protest. Vatican spokesperson had this to say about the movement: "It is ridiculous that people think they can stop the Inquisition with cat pictures. Terrible grammar will not protect you from hangings."
More news as it develops.

On the topic of stupidity (a blogging post)

In case you haven't noticed, I try to do as little 'blogging' as possible on this 'blog'. To me, the random shit I spew out here at Camels is just that, random shit. 'Blogging' is more posting the contents of your diary for the world to read (hate to break it to you, but most people don't care about what you did yesterday). However, I am afraid I am having an off day today. I never thought your stupidity could get writer's block, but apparently it can.
Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for that, and for not posting anything yesterday. Perhaps this break will bring something retarded to your screen tomorrow.

P.S. Rainbow motherfucking sheep.

All about the apocalypse (and what to do afterwards)

Surely you have heard of the dreaded Apocalypse by now (and if you haven't, you best stay underneath the rock. It's your best chance for surviving heat death). According to the internet, which is of course the most reliable source of information (and retardedness), the apocalypse will occur in 2012. I think this is bullshit, but on the off chance it's not, I would like to share my contingency plan. I'd rather admit I'm wrong and go hunt zombies than stubbornly defend my stance that the world won't end in 2012 and get skullfucked by mutant dogpeople.
Firstly, I keep a AK-47 locked in a glass box that in the hallway. An AK because that's the only weapon that can truly survive hell on Earth. Also, it looks cool, and I got it for really fucking cheap. I advise that you also store it in a glass box, because glass can be easily broken and it will impress people if they see you do it. I also have a list of emergency contacts that I keep on my person at all times. Do NOT list their phone numbers, because clearly their phones would have been left at home, carelessly melted and fused to their faces. Also, no satellite or phone line could survive God's wrath (everyone knows God hates telephones).
Also, have a contact who can get you a dog (if you don't have one already). Dogs are loyal, vicious, and keep you from going batshit crazy out on the post-apocalyptic plains. Also get a tailor to sew you a little backpack for it, because it will look so cute on your rabid Doberman let the dog carry it's own food, leaving more room for your ammunition and rations.
Next on the list is transportation. Try and walk as much as you can, because fuel and/or food will be difficult to come by. If you have a hybrid or electric vehicle, use it, but also make sure you have a means of charging it. A walrus home-made lightning rod will be your best friend if you need to travel. For those of you who are already experienced in the outdoors, a horse is a feasible means of transport if you can keep it fed and watered.
Last, but not least, make sure you can set up camp every night. Try to choose a secluded spot and use any materials you can find to build a fire. It will keep the mutants away and attract those who are still sane. Be warned that 'sane' does not equal 'friendly', but you may get lucky and be able to find a travelling partner. Not only does that mean you can stop pretending to have conversations with the dog, but if there are two of you, your chances of survival double. Do not be afraid to shoot your ally in the foot if you need a distraction to escape the mutants. He won't care for long.