Good morning to all the ramith faithful and Wake the fuck up to everyone that could not. Week 5 was a small but by no means a historical weekend for the record books. Are once charming camp was set lose with rage and fury this friday by the man only known as Christian. With this rage he almost succeeded in getting his ass kicked 2 times in one night if it were not for the cunny but drunken mastery of peace that Evan and myself come to find after a bottle of rum and 5 gallans of trash can punch! Even in this time of hardship and utter stupidty ,I found my self ridden with the gut busting laughter. Oh and by the way can i say how much of a badass Christian is cause only badasses bring a tent and a air matress and sleep in a chair everynight!! Just a funny! Christain we love ya. On to the the story of the day the bag o death proved to be the killer of all. Saturday started off as a typical saturday with a speedy 1230 arrival time into fair, but what is this you say we have 5 more gallons of punch to drink again. Well i guess we have a duty to drink as much as we can before the gate the bring the bag o death inside. Oh oh oh who's this? It's bag o death 2. The goal of the bag o death was not accomplished because the call was to be thrown out of the gate by refusing to sonf fuck you I'm drunk at the 5 o'clock mark.
Stay tuned later on for my afternon conversation on the mysterious drug dealer known as cid briches!!!!!!!!
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