When I was young

I can’t remember the age but it must have been around 8 or 9 because I think it was in Colorado and my mom hadn’t dipped out yet. Anyway, I had to go to a short summer camp for the Lord or some bullshit. I remember the waterslide that went down a mountain being the raddest thing ever. I think I crushed on a couple girls, too.

But the most vivid memory is one night, 8 boys or so in a cabin with our cabin leader, being restless and annoying, trying to tell ghost stories. The cabin leader, who must’ve been in highschool or maybe just out of, says to us, ‘If you guys promise to go to sleep after this next one I’ll tell you the scariest story I know’. We replied: ‘Deal’.

That motherfucker then preceded to read us the book of Revelation. I remember sitting there thinking, sure, that was kind of scary, but scary in the way that when you watch a sci-fi movie. ‘Oh man, wouldn’t that totally suck if mutant opossums were 10 feet tall and started feeding on our women? Yeah, scary. Good thing that’s never going to happen.’

From that day forward, even as young as 9 years old, I got my priorities in order. Water slides and pussy over worrying about fake raptures.

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  1. andiateapear reblogged this from lieslieslies and added:
    you, I’d start worry
  2. lieslieslies posted this