I was wishing I'd bought some of that Camp Half Blood orange thermal underwear..." ?!?!

Our camels plodded along. Katrina tried to kiss, or possibly spit on Hindenburg, and Hindenburg farted in response. I found this a depressing commentary on boy-girl relationships.

We only came close to dying six or seven times, which I thought was pretty good. Once, I lost my grip and found myself dangling by one hand from a ledge fifty feet above the rocky surf. But I found another handhold and kept climbing. A minute later Annabeth hit a slippery patch of moss and her foot slipped. Fortunately, she found something else to put it against. Unfortunately, that something was my face. "Sorry," she murrmured. "S'okay," I grunted, though I'd never really wanted to know what Annabeth's sneaker tasted like.

Coach Hedge yelled,“Thar she blows! Kansas, ahoy!” “Holy Hephaestus,” Leo muttered. “He really needs to work on his shipspeak.

You both should feel honored.” “Right, very honored,” I said. “Always wanted to be possessed!

Pizza! Hockey! Destroy!" -Cal

To foreswear romantic love forever. To never grow up, never get married. To be maiden eternally.