The Campfire

G

Gotholic

Well-Known Member
*All of a sudden you find yourself late at night in a deep dark forest. You see a tall blazing campfire with logs and chairs circling it. You have never seen such a variety of food and drinks that are here. You look around and see there are tents, campers, sleeping bags, coolers and grills. You then notice a dark mysterious man by the fire. He looks at you and then.....*

Welcome! Have a seat and don't worry, I do not bite.

Tonight, this eternal summer night(as long as you are in this thread) you have entered The Campfire. And just so you know, you do not have to sing any songs.

You are here to tell stories and listen to some stories by you and other people who come and join the fire. But maybe you just want to come in and relax. Whichever is fine, but I prefer the former.

The stories could be about anything like a legend, a scary or love story, an experience, or whatever. But the story should be true or at least supposedly true. I'm sure you have some type of favorite folklore you would like to share.

Well come and sit down and relax. There is plenty to eat and drink. There is also a place for you to sleep.

Come and enjoy The Campfire...
 
*sits on ground with back to a log, and cracks a beer, and quietly hums "Micheal row the boat ashore".*
 
One time a guy I know was driving in Vermont. A deer jumped into the road and he hit it. The policeman came to fire an accident report. He asked "Did you aim for it?"
to which my friend replied "I always go huntin' with my Buick."
 
*Unfolds the aluminum camp chair, opens a beer, picks up the guitar and starts playing "Michael" behind Prof*
Anyone know "The Water is Wide?"
 
*sits next to Prof*
*pops open bag of Hershey's chocolate*
*asks Steve for a marshmellow*
*looks for graham crackers in vain*
 
Don't forget the Jiffy Pop!

Whenever I would stand or sit by a campfire, the smoke would invariably immediately head straight for me. I move, it moves. My mom always told me, "smoke follows beauty." I think that's a load of crap.
 
So, my story...

A young Indian asks the chief one day how the tribe decides on names.

The chief says:

When a new baby is to be born, myself, the father and all the tribal elders gather in my teepee for three nights to discuss the matters of the day. We pass the pipe around, then observe our surroundings and name the child after what we see. If we see an eagle soaring overhead, the child will be named Soaring Eagle. If we see a deer prancing in the meadow, the child will be named Prancing Deer. Why do you ask, Two Dogs Fucking?
 
greenfreak said:
*lugs medical kit over to spot*
*dresses wounds*
*carries him back and sits him on a log*
*makes a batch of smores*
Click to expand...
In the interest of group survival, it might have been better to let him die. Ah, well.
 
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