Camp Tressel: The end of and era

Man am I glad to have those little fuckers out of my thinning hair. Sorry just had to get that off my chest, faithful tressellites. Geez o' frickin' Christ on a bobsled, I had to close the doors early this year at Camp Tressel. Those little inner city fuckers just pushed the envelope a bit too far this year. Usually I keep the doors open till Thanksgiving just so those little fucks get a decent turkey dinner- but Krenzy's in the mental ward for chist's sake and it's only the second week of november. He's normally crying like a bitch to me halfway through and the only cure for that is always thouroughly hazing him and demoralizing his character in front of the whole camp. This year those little bastards beat me to the punch.

First, they started with craping in his cot. That is a pleasure I once enjoyed by myself but these kids get held back alot and got wise to my tricks. Next, they somehow found out that he used to get boners in the Ohio State locker room durring showers (so... maybe they heard that from me, it's just a good warning and it is always funny to see his denial-what a mo!). They came up with a bunch of jokes about that. One kid asked him if he gets a hard on everytime it rains or hears water running, that was pretty damn funny. Next came the cheers "Krenzel! Hard On! In The Shower!"*, that cracked me up at first but really started to break him down. He got really high on meth and anabolic steroids the one night and took one of the ring leaders and snapped the kids neck, we made it look like an accident and the alumni paid the kid's family a ton-so they were probably better off and it was no big deal. Anyway I could see that Krenzel was starting to break.

Thr icing on the cake was soon to come, a tasty icing made out of spite and hatred. If it hadn't led to the tramatic ending that was the end of Krenzie's sanity i would have bough the kids a cake. It was that day that comes every year towards the end of the season when L.T., Laurence "Gimmie The Crack" Taylor shows up with his stupid god damn lightning bolt earing Bing Bling - to tell the kids not to do the drugs they probably sell. Krenzie is always part of part of a play we put on about not doing drugs, he plays the meth addict- too well if you ask me, but who am I to point a finger. He's nowhere to be found.

So we were halfway through the part where I was reinacting my recovery, where I was at rock bottem, held in the arms of a hooker named "One Tit Mary" and we hear screaming coming from the porta john by the mess hall. Dogs screaming with their nuts in a vice is the only way I could descibe it (I know and love that sound). The whole camp gathers round a porta john, the doors strapped shut by duct tape. L.T. goes crazy and rushes toward the portable throne (he was definaley high, he bogarted most of my shit) and rushes it, tackles it and it explodes!. He and Krenz roll aroung the ground in a smoking puddle of feces and cry and scream and blaspheme against gods I never knew existed. Nobody would help them and it finally took a hazmat team and a gruop of specially trained shinks to get the situation under control.

Long story short, it was really awesome and I wish I had come come up with the ultimate zing on Krenzle. Plus one of those hoodrats stole my wristwatch and my favorite bong. So fuck them. Fuck Camp Tressel. I'm done trying to make a difference.

Not for nothin' but this bog is starting to make me feel like Dougie Howser at the end of every episode, but I'll put a .38 caliber round in the head of any stupid greasey wop named Vinny that tries to sneak in through my bedroom window.

* true story ask my about it sometime.