All Washed Up

Or,

Why Camping is Always a Bad Idea

I’m keeping well clear of the US Election,
Instead I will tell you about my erection!
Did you really think that? I’m not nearly so crude,
It is your dirty mind which is thinking so rude!

I’m talking about my new two-man tent,
Away to the camp-site, a major event.
We prayed for good weather throughout our brief stay,
If not… well, our home is not too far away.

Arrive at the camp site, a picture postcard,
But I can’t sleep. I’m thinking, “This ground’s a bit hard”.
Lying awake hear the rain on the tent,
This doesn’t bode well. Maybe not time well spent?

Get up in the morning, more tired than before,
As I’m looking outside I am feeling quite sore,
It’s still coming down on the camp site in sheets,
A stiff upper lip! Let’s get something to eat!

I dig out the stove, but I can’t get it going,
The rain is still falling, the wind is still blowing,
I can’t light the stove while I’m inside the tent,
As I’m farting about, I’m just getting more drenche
d!

And ten minutes later, I finally give in,
That can of baked beans I eat straight from the tin!
By now I am truly fed up with this camp,
Those useless old matches, they must have been damp.

We decide to go home, I’m incredibly wet,
But fate has decided there’s more for me yet,
We’d put the tent up with a minimum ardour,
But taking it down was incredibly harder.

Eventually tent is packed loosely away,
Don’t worry, I don’t think I’ll need it again.
We pack up and drive ourselves far from the plot,
Straight to the cafe, to get something hot!

Author: Mister Bump UK

Formerly Stroke Survivor UK. Designed/developed IT systems for banks, but had a stroke in 2016, aged 48. Returned to developing from home, plus do some voluntary work. Married, with a grown-up, left-home daughter.

6 thoughts on “All Washed Up”

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