In about 4 days, I’m off to the lake for 10 beautiful, glorious days. Gonna drink me some beer, maybe some whiskey. Take the boat out, spend a lotta time on a quad. I’m gonna pass out in the sun. I expect at least two solid sunburns. There will probably be entire days when I don’t wear a shirt, and when I do, it will either A) not have sleeves B) be too tight for me or C) have SHANNY written on it in Sharpie. Might even be a combination of the three. I will urinate outside. I will spend 18 hours a day in a shitty ten-dollar cowboy hat, logo’d with a beer I’m not drinking. Shoes will not hit my feet. If it all goes well, I will catch fish, kill them, and eat them. I’m turning the brain the fuck off, and letting it know that, “hey buddy, if you don’t come back right away, that’s totes okay. I can fake it til you’re ready to come back.”

This is the best picture I could find to describe what the lake is to me. Will there be anything like this? Probably not. But maybe. And that maybe encompasses everything in the above paragraph. It is the sustenance that keeps me fucking going. 

I think I just wrote a beer commercial.