Tell Us Your Funny Camp Stories - Josh Spear, Trendspotting

Remember the Camp Camp book we were giving away to folks who sent in their pictures of the good ol’ camp days? Oh yeah, that one. Well, it didn’t work. In retrospect we realized the likelihood of having a digital version of your camp year debauchery photos was probably quite low. So with that said, we’re back again with another contest, and this time it’s a hell of a lot easier to enter. Tell us your funniest camp stories, make us laugh or giggle the most and you win. Pranks, first kisses, hazing– we want to hear it all.

Or if you’re just too lazy to tell us stories of your life, go buy the book on Amazon. It’s funny, very funny.

Tags: Books, contests, humor, retro

Steve Brown

Sunday, 06.29.08 @ 1:48 pm

My First, Last, and Only Trip To Summer Camp

You know those kids who are always up to no good? The ones that you can just tell by looking at them have gotten away with at least a half-dozen things you should probably know about, but are kind of afraid to find out? Those kids that are strikingly adept at roping the slower, more dim-witted and lonely kids into doing whatever they want? Those kids that will likely grow up to be politicians or shady accountants?

I was not one of those kids. I was one of the dim-witted accomplices that never quite realized what he was being cajoled into doing.

I was 9 or 10 years old, and somehow my parents came up with enough scratch to send me to Camp Immokalee. I have no idea how much it cost, but I know for a fact it was more than they had ever spent on any luxury item for me before (or probably after) and I was stoked beyond belief.

I spent the summer roaming around, failing at archery, swimming poorly, playing with the stash of G.I. Joe figures I’d smuggled in, eating ice cream sandwiches, and just generally enjoying being away from home.

Of course, I was totally drawn to the older kids who were infinitely more awesome with their tales of late-night awesomosity, boobs touched, cigarettes smoked, and liquor stolen.

So, when I was woken up in the middle of the night by the ringleader of the cooler, older kids and told to “Shut up, get dressed, and meet us outside” I did as I was told with barely contained glee.

Of course I did. I was an idiot.

So when I found myself a few brief minutes later holding a watermelon while two of the older kids tied an inner tube between two trees to make the mother of all gigantic slingshots, I didn’t ask any questions. This was going to be great! I was going to have a story to make my friends sick with envy, and the cool kids would like me!

A few minutes after that, when I found myself staring with open-mouthed horror at what a high-speed watermelon can do the the side of a counselor’s cabin (and, of course, with the counselors barreling towards me and all of the older kids LOOONG gone) I realized “Oh shit. This was probably not the best idea.”

My friends thought it was pretty awesome. My parents, on the other hand, did not.

And thus did the patsy get sent home early.