Tag Archives: Eagles Mere

“Oh, the Places You’ll Go!”: The Love Edition

It’s been a long, long time since we dropped some log-language here at The Kids….

But it’s not been for lack of action.

Oh no.

I’ve been around town dropping “Easter eggs” pretty regularly.

Typically the places that I review are ones that I’d encourage you all to visit whenever you found yourself wandering the streets of Brotherly Love.

It’s sort of a “Frommer’s” for your Pooper.

A “Lonely Planet” for Uranus, if you will.

This edition of C.R.A.P. however is wedding-based.

I recently had the pleasure of attending the lovely wedding of Z &Z; they’re an adorable couple I’m quite fond of. Anyway, their very special day took place deep in the mountains of Eagles Mere, PA.

Not familiar with Eagles Mere, you say? Imagine your Nearest Big City.

Now take away the buildings.

Now take away the shops, save the weird craft store ones that you see at malls and wonder how they’re open still.

Now take away all  colored people (“people of color” sounds like science fiction to me, like Children of Men).

eagles mere

Only 10 more minutes until Colored People need to leave town! It's like New Years in this jawn.

What do you have left?

“The Shire” might be an initial guess, and it’d be accurate, but so would “Eagles Mere, PA”.

This outdoor wedding was on a picture-perfect day with lots of food, wine, cousins…and outdoor toilet?!

Let’s investigate, shall we?

The Kids Don’t Get It Gets Hitched To Some Shit

On that special day, the only things that matter are family, alcohol and someone keeping an eye on Uncle Harold and your kids. But you know what else matters? Crapping.

The Eagles Mere Wedding (or EMW) was an outdoor event. Not a real “camper” at heart, like any sheltered city/suburban kid, I quickly worry about the following when I’m outdoors:

  • looking any local in the eye for too long
  • where the nearest Fuddrucker’s/5 Guys is
  • whether or not it’s “horny season” for bears
  • where I can relieve myself after spotting a bear

This last item is of utmost importance. Weddings have 1. food 2. drink and 3. dancing and typically I don’t like to do 1 and 2 before doing 3; after all I don’t want to “Macarena” in the middle of the “Electric Slide”.

So what did the EMW have to offer? The fanciest outdoor port-a-johns my buttcheeks have ever seen? So while everyone else was tossing rice, I slipped away to drop some instead. And so, my once-in-a-lifetime chance to shit, EMW style.

Cleanliness: I don’t know about you, but when I hear the phrase “port-a-potty” I immediately think of Hershey syrup-stained toilet seats, hot piss and that blue Slurpee stuff that they put into the bottom that “masks” the odors and doubles as a Smurf-creating vat. Or something. Anyway, because of this, I was prepared for the worst, and by ‘the worst’ I mean ‘crabs’. So while everyone else admired the father-daughter dance, I went off to tango

Worst bridesmaids dresses ever.

Worst bridesmaids dresses ever.

with the toilet.

Inside there were flowers, hand-soap (real hand soap; not that scummy sex-organ fluid-like stuff you find in other restrooms), a mirror for single people to wonder what’s happening to their life and soft lighting so when you’re drunk you still think you look sober.

Anyway, I quickly walked to the back and, with a deep breath, I opened the stall door to find….cleanliness! It resembled one of those display bathrooms you see in Home Depot: all high-gloss and shine. As I unzipped and turned to drop down onto the seat, I paused and said, “If anyone objects to the union we’re about to create, let them speak now or forever hold my feces….”. No answer. Wedding on! +8


"You had me at 'Eagles Mere'."

Remoteness: Worried that you’ll have to say “I do-do” in front of a crowd of people at the EMW? No worries there, as the couple was savvy enough to have the bathrooms placed away from the action (that being the food, drink and any horny bears) and at the backside of the cabin-house where the reception took place. After saying hi/hellos to cousins, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, friends and caterers alike, I wiggled my way to the back where I found the uniquely-fancy port-a-johns majestically raised on steps. I don’t know if the EMW DJ planned on playing it, but I suddenly heard “Stairway to Heaven” playing in my head. With one look at the port-a-john, a tear rolled down my face as I muttered, “….you complete me”. +8

Access: Getting to the bathrooms was a cinch.  It’s in the back, so it was easy to get to (twss). With all the surrounding woodland creatures frolicking about, I sorta felt like Snow White. Unfortunately, I think I ate the Poison Apple, so I quickly felt like Snow Brown. Still, the woodland setting made for the most serene stroll; I started singing, “Going to the Port-a and I’m gonna get sti-i-i-inky….”. Birds landed on my shoulder. Squirrels ran around my ankles and taint. A horny bear sniffed my crotch. Or was that Uncle Harry? Either way, awesome. +8

Privacy: As I placed the seat-covering onto the toilet I said, “with this ass-bib, I thee wed”. At that point, I think I might’ve been the first to use it–I think everyone else was listening to some ‘speeches’ or something–so I once I finished, I ran out the port-a-john and waved my used toilet paper to the masses and yelled “Look, a virgin!”. Priceless. +8

Total C.R.A.P. score: 32 (on a port-a-john scale)

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