I don’t know about you, but camping is my way of becoming one with nature while reconciling my feelings that I don’t really like nature much.

Ok, that’s harsh. I love nature and camping in it - I worked deep in the mountains for a summer in college and it was actually a truly spiritual experience. But, like a good Keeping up with the Kardashians marathon - at some point you just want it to stop.

Take my advice. If your washing machine breaks down pre-spin cycle and you're forced to scoop out your sopping-wet clothes and schlep a basket of them along with your kid to your mother's house to finish the load, thus creating a dirty swamp odor in your trunk liner from the wet laundry that has soaked into it, RESIST ALL URGE to mask the horrific smell with an Orange Creme-scented car deodorizer.

Submitted by Jessica

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I am programmed to loathe bugs entirely. The flying kind, even more so. The flying wannabe, beautiful butterfly kind, the most.

We entertained friends for dinner last night and when 9pm rolled around and every. last. one. of us was shoving toothpicks into our eyelids, because, “When the hell did we get sooooooo oooooooold?!”, it was time to bid our guests a sweet farewell.

Dead bolt, undone. Door, unlocked. Hugs, distributed. Knucks, pounded. Then, right then, it happened…

What appeared to be something Bastian Balthazar Bux would be clinging to for dear life in 1984...