I'd like to tell you all that I've had a truly exciting week with lots of fabulous stories, but all I've done this week is cough and sniffle and bitch about being sick and count down the hours until the end of the week. I was in bed at 8 last night and I woke up even SICKER this morning.

I decided I should write a post about Camp Shack, since it was an exceptional evening of fun. I started thinking about the night, and I realized my full recollection of events stopped somewhere around the time that we arrived at the shack. I got a roll of film developed yesterday and the pictures are really quite amusing - the thing is, I remember very few of them being taken. Angie did an outstanding job capturing the Chubby Bunny Contest, among other things (like the dog's back). It's too bad I can't share them with the world.

Another realization that struck me is that I have managed to lose yet ANOTHER roll of pictures. All the pictures on it were taken, but it has apparently been misplaced. This is the second roll of fully exposed (oh baby) film that I have lost in the shuffle of shack drunk time. We better check by the salt lick. What's that? We never made it that far? Well SHIT. Anyway, this means that - among others - the pictures of me with the guy at the bar and the bag of minnows has been lost, a sacrifice to the shack and the good times had there. If it weren't rolls of film I lost to the shack, I'm pretty sure my friends would start disappearing, one by one, lost in the creepy woods, perhaps fallen down that deathtrap of a hill. Maybe that's why Brian didn't make it this year. Was he even THERE when we left last time?

Somebody get me my medication; I'm ready for bed.