Well, it’s over. We’re about to leave to fly back to the States, and neither Ders nor I hooked up. It’s a tie.
We were going to give each other control of the other’s tumblr for 3 weeks, but that seemed pointless. Blake correctly pointed out, the only right way to end this bet is for both of us to abandon our tumblr’s. Neither of us won, so both of us lost.
For those of you who depended on me for workout advice, stay with it.
For those of you who depended on me for relationship advice, make out music, and general words about the opposite sex, it’s time you went out on your own. Stay with it.
Finally, to the DeMamp Campers who’ve come to be like family, because I never see you in person and all you do is judge me, stay with it most of all. And also with you.
I leave you with this final thing to remember—
You can flex a lot of muscle, but if there’s no camera? It’s up to you to enjoy it.
Good Luck Ders…
…with your massage.
See, I called the front desk and asked if their massage girls gave “Happy Endings”. When they hung up right away, I of course knew the answer was NO.
So I told Ders I was going down there at 1, and I’d be up 1-0 by 1:31 (half hour massage). Then I went to the bathroom to “freshen up”.
Ders then played right into my trap when he called for the 12:00 PM open slot I knew they had. He’ll probably get arrested for and thrown in Hedonism II jail for what he offers to that poor, unprepared masseuse.
Leaving all of the girls that may fly in today ready to feel the DeMamp sting. Bzzzz!
Current Score -
All thoughts to spending Thanksgiving with my family aside, pretty fucking pumped for Hedonism II instead. You can only hear ole’ Dad DeMamp tell you the story about that year he won the free turkey at work before you see the end coming. Don’t get me started on Aunt Sarah’s beef with the VFW.
Since I’m writing this in the past, I bet by now we’re all packed up and having a relaxing 3-beer early dinner before we head to the clearport.
Ders will give us some made-up stat about flying, Blake’ll have a funny story about the last time he flew, and I’ll of course be hydrating for my planned membership drive into the Mile High Club.
A gentleman can never tell if he hasn’t done it yet, so it’s safe to say the girl I hook up with on the flight to Hedonism II is a real slut. Seat backs UP, tray table DOWN.