"Up here, I'm already gone."

Huh, I am surprisingly tired for having been up for a pretty short time. Going to bed at 5 and then waking up at 9 isn't such a good deal I suppose. I thought that the spectacular comfort level of Drew's bed would be enough to keep me through a nice long sleep. Perhaps it was the frightening nature of my dreams, those damn big boxes, that kept me from rest. But I think the source of discomfort lies in the work of one Big Penis. His anger seems to have stirred me to the center of my being. His drunken rankings and pain-fueled babblings gave me a new found fear of his very person. I can not stand to be near him, I feared for my safety during the whole ride home.
Another thing also stirred my innards this weekend, besides too much Windsor. It seems the plans have been laid for what could possible be my finest adventure. This Summer is bringing with it a chance for my to reconnect with nature. But only so long as that allows me to steal a baby bear and slap a bison named Tiny. I promise to have the trizzluck (Sarah, that is truck in Snoop-speak) in its finest ever working order for this coming time. I think a bit of super-charging is necessary to make it over any sort of hill when I gotta haul all the big boys. I think three items will be enough to keep the wooden-sided, tarp camper living eyota boys alive. All we really need are raisins and peanuts anyway.
Hmmm, how to describe the weekend? Holy shit, I have never wasted so damn much produce. A dozen dozens is quite a figure. I will have to thank Windsor for the ability to keep up my highjinks and perform to the rigorous standards of the ever vigorous men of Mankato. I was disapointed to never be chased at high speeds, or by anyone on foot. What a shame. But we didn't kill anyone and, as they say, boys will be boys. As for the girls who joined in the fun, you have no excuse. Try and be mature for once. Also warranting mention would be some of our additional abuse of the Fossman. Just smashing his head in the ground was not enough. I thought the family member portrait on his chest was quite lovely despite being so lifelike. Go Mutant Mavs in your Inbred Purple!
Alright, I need to go plan for the future cause the mountain life is calling. Anyway my best regards to Mobbs and Aunt Tom. I guess I can give em to the rest o' you fools too. Peace to the Gs.