At an undisclosed location in Northern NJ a group of men rough it in the wilderness. There are massive amounts of Italian food and barrels of alcohol. This writer stayed up with the rest of the drinking and eating elite until the wee hours of the morning. Upon waking up to doing my morning business and still being extremely intoxicated, I made an important decision. I could go to sleep and ruin my cycle (see GM's article below) which was not an option, or I could brave the steep slopes to the glorious plastic portojons of excellence.
Of course I went for it. Falling down the hill I made my way to glory, once situated I was able to free myself from the waste that was holding me back, only to wake up 45 minutes later to people yelling my name. The single act of taking a dump had lulled me into such a sense of comfort and safety I had fallen asleep inside the portojon. Friends I tell you this story for two reasons, first of all find your happy place in the bathroom. That's where mine is. It should always be a place of safe thinking for you. The other reason is that you should stick to a wingman concept, if a brother is heading to the jon, check in every now and then so you don't have to mobilize an entire campsite to find someone pass out with his draws around his ankles in the 120 degree portojon.
Think of your fellow man. Look out for each other, and be safe. -JB
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