July 30, 2005

James: Tonight we’re under the watchful eye of George Bush.
Mom: Now I won’t get any sleep.

July 23, 2005

Jason: If she’s comfortable enough when she’s sleeping to drool, it makes me happy.

Kayla: You know you need water in that.
Jason: *looks in pot* Why?

Kayla: I love romantic drooling.

Gordie: I found it, I scavengered it!

Kayla: Don’t pluck no dog!

Robin: Dog fur… oh there’s that little mutt back there!

Timmy: Next item, a feather.
Gordie: We can pluck Robin!
Timmy: That’s not a feather!
Jason: IT’S PLUMAGE!

Jason: We screw you, Tim, because we love you.
Stasia: No, that’s Kayla.

Timmy: *as Mishka* Ahh I’m hit! Bloody Germans!

Madelaine: *sings Butterfly*
Timmy: This has nothing to do with insects.

Gordie: *raps Onslaught*
Madelaine: That’s grody.

Madelaine: God, you’re such a woman! You’re worse than a woman, you’re a Mishka!

Robin: Snog, S-G-N-O-G.

Shannon: Robin, are you eating a pack of sugar?
Robin: They didn’t give me a mint.

July 22, 2005

*guy sneezes*
Shannon: Bless you!
Stasia: I don’t think he heard you.
Shannon: Watch it be a camp full of satanists and they come and kick my ass.

Timmy: You can get 2L of pop for a dollar *interjecting during a conversation about buying alcohol*

Kayla: Prep, freak, goth, gangsta, punk, artist, or hamster — I mean musician.

Stasia: As long as he doesn’t set you on fire!

*dude comes over to our campsite*
Dude: Smoke? Bud? Beer?
Shannon: It’s on the way.
Stasia: WITH OUR BOYFRIENDS!