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Self-Censor of my WildernessPunk

I head out for my first official Fall camp. And yeah, it’s good ol’ Camp 1. Can’t knock it other than Lucy eating a few holes in one of my shirts. Bad, bad, camp rat. Kurt told me to kill you, but instead you get tortillas and still no gratitude.


Windy with an edge of cold. Nature is asking, “You ready, —fill in the blank—

for this? What kind of jacket is that? Where is…?”


It will be down into the 30s tonight, but I shouldn’t have an issue. I’ve done what I could do to prep for this, but more gear could help. Still,,,wah, this is nothing, press on.




I’ll head out of the forest and into the world of man for a book signing tomorrow. Wilderness–>Writer–>Humans–>$–>Hatch Chili Party. It should be my kind of day.




Things went well, sold a book every half hour. And managed to make it to the party a few hours before it got shut down.




Today, however, not as smooth. I know I make it look easy, but this WildernessPunk thing isn’t the simplest thing in the world to pull off, but add onto this various trials and tribulations, and other random bullsh***************


(I’ve been told the following should not be posted at this time. I apologize for this and feel very sorry some of the teeth of this post were forced to be removed at this time. Yet within each conflict is a battle and there is no need to give the other side additional ammunition. I’m already screwed enough.)


So let’s post a happy Picture instead.





(My advisors say it is safe to continue from here)


Can you tell I’m frustrated?


Yeah, I know, I need to relax and roll with it. As sated before, part of the thrill of WildernessPunk and life in general, is a level of challenge, conflict, and complication. If I didn’t have any of that, could I be a writer, would I deserve to write this blog? Most likely the answer to those questions would be… no. Challenge leads to strength. Conflict leads to perseverance. Complication leads to creative solutions.


So again I say, bring it on. We’ll see who wins. Alex Bone will give it. I’ve sure as hell taken it. So maybe it’s time to serpent up and see what I can make happen or maybe I’ll just have to move to Africa. I do like crocodiles.





Sorry I had to censor this post, but the reason I’m agitated is the reason I still need to watch my written word. I promise I’ll post it one day.





Grab some Skinjumper-Punk here and help support your friendly WildernessPunker




2 Responses to “Self-Censor of my WildernessPunk”

  1. Don’t let the alligators get you

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