Throwback Thursday- Avoiding Dysentery

I was going to write the most inspirational blog post ever written I was going to change all of your lives forever. I was going to talk to you about major strides in my life and guide you into doing the same. This was going to be as big as the Camp David Accords. Bigger than the fall of the USSR. More important than the polio vaccine.

THIS WAS GOING TO BE BIG!

Then this happened. . .

I found The Oregon Trail. You remember the times in elementary school where you didn't work, but instead you stared at the screen and tried to make it to Oregon City without dying of dysentery: it was a grueling trip, yes it may have had some sort of educational value, but we knew it as the greatest time of the school year. 

I found it in the midst of changing the world and said fuck it and distracted myself into an adventure.

Since My roommates were floating around and I was showing them my great discovery I let them join me in the trip on The Oregon Trail. So, I, the leader, Jess, Shaun, Steph, and our trusty servant, Jeffery- a former prince from England whom we kidnapped back east, started our journey.

It was going well I hunted, to keep out bellies full to keep illness away while we rushed the trail at Grueling pace. I shot deer, bison, bear, rabbits, and whatever the hell the tiny fast brown thing was. A squirrel? I was a true wagon leader. We were all in good health. When Jess broke her leg we took a few days to rest. We were well on our way westward where I had a cushy job lined up running a general store. Shaun was going to head out and mine for gold. While Steph and Jess were all set for the best job a woman could have: working in a brothel. 

We had a slight accident when the fire Jess made to make some of her people's knishes got out of hand and tore through the wagon. Luckily no one was hurt: Jeffery the Englishman suffered several burns which made his fair British skin swell up and puss for most of the rest of the trip. He kept saying something about infections, but we didn't know we weren't doctors. 

But then it got bad. First, some no good Indian came out and stole my oxen. I knew it was an Indian because I saw him. I didn't stop him because he sent his Wife or daughter or Native American whore to distract me. It worked I've always been partial to a woman with color.

After the night where we lost an ox, I did what any man would do in that situation: I went out and killed a fucking bear or some other living creature. It made me feel superior. Then we were back on the road again.

 We cruised until it got worse:

Not being the carpenter from Ohio I wasn't able to fix the wagon tongue. And considering this wasn't the first time this happened I was out of extras. We were stuck until someone wanted to trade a tongue for some food. With the wagon tongue repaired we were on our way again.

Then we got to The Dalles, which is so close to the finish. At this part of the trail I had to navigate a raft which my wagon was on through a river full of rocks. Let's just say I was distracted by real life hit a rock and. . . well. . . I was in the wagon all alone.

Which is fine, I was going to kill them and eat their corpses anyway. Don't judge. Food is scarce out on the Oregon Trail and you must do what you have to do to survive.

Then. . . . BAM another rock and I drown like the rest of my wagon party.

Thus ended this adventure. I will keep on playing because I am a child of the 90s and this is one of my fondest memories. Try your own adventure and don't get the killer shits and become another victim of The Oregon Trail.