* Charles in charge (of being a pain in my butt) …
I don’t like Charles. Charles is not my friend. I don’t want to ever camp near Charles & his grand parents ever again (even if there is a fire). Charles makes me happy that I have semi normal children. I want to know Charles’ grand parents names so I can survey the check in board at the campground in the future to make sure we are far far away from Charles and his family (whom I am not sure even exist because I never once saw a grown up come out of their camper). Charles’ dog’s name is Lucifer, Lucy for short, Lucy is in the very literal sense a sonofabitch! I know this because Charles yelled it loudly from time to time this past weekend. Charles is an excellant cusser but for some reason has an objection to the fact that I was jamming to some non christian music yesterday. I know this because Charles not so politely told me so. I should have been listening to christian music, not Lynard Skynard. Charles likes to hollar “yeeehaaaa” a lot, very loudly. Charles thought Chrisi & Anna were the same person, Anna gladly did not tell him any different because he thought they were both Chrisi. Charles made Michael Brown a tad ill. Michael offered to pay some random girls for leading Charles off on his bicycle as they were running away from him. I would have eagerly upped the anti to ten dollars each had they been able to guarantee he would not return until I went home. Speaking of Charles’ bicycle, I hate it too and Michael apparantly doesn’t know how to fix the handle bars correctly either. I seriously think if I had heard those bicycle tires screech by me one more time I may have intentionally thrown a rock in front of them and laughed while he tumbled head first all the way down the hill at a high rate of speed. Yes, that was terrible of me to say … if you are waiting for an apology, get comfortable, it’ll be a long wait. It is hard to hide from Charles when you drive his favorite car … a mini cooper. I may consider selling mini. Charles does not sleep … ever. Charles may be the devil. Charles will inevitably be the reason melinda has to hang her head in shame, head straight to the alter on Sunday & beg forgiveness for every pleasant evil thought I had of Charles’ painful demise over the weekend. I will be taking knee pads to church on Sunday.
me.
Charles…oh Charles. You forgot to mention that while Bentley was standing still beside me, Charles almost ran over him with his bicycle (screeching his tires) and said, “Your dog ran out in front of me!” Please don’t get our campsite in the same vacinity as his next time, Mom. Love you!
OH MAN!! reminds me of that bill cosby standup…about being on the plane with the kid named jeffrey! jeffrey stop doing that, jeffrey come here, jeffrey get down, jeffrey leave that man alone, jeffrey be quiet…
we always have an adventure when we camp!! luckily, we have never camped next to charles!!!
I’m sure this wasn’t funny when you were living it….but it’s quite hilarious to read about. I’m glad all parties made it out safely, and you didn’t kill Charles.
You should go with us sometime Courtney, then you could possibly meet Charles for yourself
OOOOh no. I am perfectly fine with admiring from afar… Charles is all yours, my dear.
“you know what i mean?”
I know I mean it’s time for Charles to go on now cause we’re fixn’ to eat! you know what I mean?
Okay I asked about a picture and found out there wasn’t one. So the only answer for that is you will have to go back camping and find him there to take a picture. We have to see him!
the picture at the top is pretty dern close.
p.s. if you want a different picture, you have to go find him for yourself. i will never see him again if i can help it.
chrisi you know you want to have charles’ babies!
omg. i just threw up in my mouth.