Monday, June 20, 2011

Josh Grimmer - Camp Granada

Hello mother, hello father.

Camp Granada is not as fun as the brochure would lead you to believe. First of all, the weather isn't great. I mean, sure, rain happens, but this stuff is corrosive. It ate through my clothes. I spend my days huddles under sheets of corrugated tin, hoping to escape the elements, and even then I have to make sure to avoid the poison ivy.

The food is awful. I've been throwing up for days now. I'm caked in what I know must be vomit, but I cannot identify the source, seeing as I haven't eaten at all. I have no idea what this all could be from. I thought about escaping. The forest is full of bears. The lake is full of alligators.

The staff is almost as bad as the environs. The counselors and waitstaff are constantly fighting for reasons that nobody has bothered to explain. The head coach just sits around and reads James Joyce to us all day. And despite the fact that it's a danger to everyone at the camp, the kid who I share a bunk with has malaria and the counselors won't just send him home. Thank God I insisted on getting that intramuscular quinine shot before coming.

I need you to come get me, please. Please. I'm willing to meet any demands you set. No more messes or noise, even when other boys come over. I'll even kiss that wretched aunt of mine, Bertha. I'm not kidding. Please. I am your son. I am broken and deadened. Save me.


Your son, the nut,

PS: Please send my deepest regrets to the family of Jeffrey Hardy. He was a good guy who just ended up in a bad situation.

Josh Grimmer lives in North Hollywood with his wife and cat. He used to run this blog, but now he only sorta runs this blog. Let him know what you think about his dumb bullshit at

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