Perennial Nomad

You ever just want to say “Fuck it all” and become a perennial nomad? Stuffing your face with hot toasty marshmallows off of a twig and observing the Andromeda Galaxy with your naked eyes on a dark moonless night enshrouded in a Pendleton camp blanket?

How fucking dope would it be to parade around (insert your bucket list destination to camp out) in your black pair of 1980s Red Wing boots and heading to your 1987 Volkswagen Vanagon with the Westfalia camper top before dusk, after a long stroll in West bumblefuck, to start your fire for dinner and heat with a Coghlan’s magnesium fire starter?

I’d say dope as fuck, wouldn’t you?

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