Give A Hoot Don't Pollute

Mr. Bunndini will try anything once. Maybe even twice. Case in point: Jameson and pickle juice shots, getting my navel pierced back in 1990, ballet lessons, lending unemployed losers money, really short bangs, drunken cartwheel competitions, spandex, dating drummers and chicken carpaccio. I may even try these things again one day but one thing I will never do again is CAMPING.

I like to say that jews don't camp because we've done enough camping in the past two centuries or so but I don't think it is as simple of an explanation as that. If I wanted to sleep next to the smell of an outhouse on the cold wet ground then make bad coffee on an open flame while sitting in an uncomfortable lawn chair all day long then I certainly would do so but I'd much rather delight in many of the miracles the modern world has to offer namely indoor plumbing, electricity, poly cashmere blends and the interweb. It was recently brought to my attention by my former beau Mr. Scotty that not only do I hate camping but my bad attitude about just how much I hate camping ruined some otherwise perfectly good camping trips that I (or more fittingly the people I was with) had the misfortune of being on. So to all the people I've camped with before I apologize and to the rest of you have fun with your burnt wieners and forest rangers telling you to be quiet at 10pm.