God dammit. That's all I can say. God dammit. This is gonna be a long post, god dammit. Friday, me being stupid, and two friends who are of equal intelligence, decide it would be fun to camp out in the "Hobo Hotel." This is a section of woods in my town where it is known that crazy homeless guys live. Not normal homeless guys, total psychopaths. Not all of them are nuts, but yeah. Don't go in there unarmed. At around ten at night we get there, set up our fire, take the beers, sandwiches, and vodka out. We were pretty close to the front of where the woods start, we weren't worried about getting attacked or anything, as most of the hobos live much further back. We get our fire going with some sticks and twigs, but we needed a log that would burn for a good long while. We take two big sticks, make torches out of them, and go looking for a really big log. After probably no more than thirty seconds of walking further back with our torches, we hear a crazy sounding dude yell "MOVE THE FUCK OUT!" Now, we're still close to the road so we all just fucking book it out of there. Grabbed my backpack, and zoomed. There were three of us, armed with machetes, clubs and torches, I'm aware we would have won the fight that would have happened, maybe. I know none of those guys have guns, but that's why I was running. Gun>machete. Also, there have been rumors of them forming small clans, which would make sense. Plus, it was his turf, not ours. We ended up getting some of our stuff, and ran out of the woods. The guys in there yelling, we cross the street, now thinking we're safe. My friend Tyler, being the genius that he is, yells "FUCK YOU!" at the crazy guy. Smart. This is where it got weird. He starts dipping after us across a main street where cops drive all the time, carrying a big branch with him. I was surprised he came out on the road. He threw the stick at just the right angle to hit Tyler. We all got away, guy was a little chunky and we didn't feel like getting raped. We go back to my house, tell my parents, they laugh and call us stupid, tell us not to go there again. (Is there really anything else they can say?) Saturday- We forgot a backpack, snowpants, and coat in the woods we HAVE to get back. SHIT. Stupid us go back in (day this time) ready for war. Not really expecting any hobos to notice us at daytime, we weren't taking any chances. This time there's four of us. I don't even remember what all we brought, machete, daggers, knives, bats, a sword, no guns. It felt like a dumb comedy movie. Luckily, none of our stuff was taken and was exactly in the same place. We get all of it and leave. Saturday night- been some issues on the homefront lately with having people spend the night when parents aren't home, (even at 19 I don't blame them for this rule, and do genuinely feel sorry for being fucktarded enough to break it again.) They won't be home til Sunday, 2 friends stay the night. Sunday- Still asleep, they get home in the early morning. Oops. We quit bullshitting our parents, tell them we're done. Just plain done. Aren't even as mad as I thought they'd be. But god dammit. My ass is still in some heat though. Just need to stop acting my age. Recap Friday- chased by murderous crazy guy through the woods. Saturday- Need our shit back, strap for war, go get it. Sunday- Man up, take a little responsibility for our jackassery. Feel a little older for it. Sunday night- Feel pretty stupid. Feel really tired. GOD DAMMIT.