Setting up the final pole in my tent , I felt the male and female ends, as soon as they were put together, split away from each other. I broke a tent pole. Fuck! I had no tent repair kit. For the rest of the night my abode would have what we referred to as the "gangster lean". During the night I woke to a pool of wet tent floor and wet sleeping pad, steeping in a puddle. I realized that in my drunkenness I set up my tent on a slope and what must have been a “beach gutter”(an avenue water travels down when you set up your tent like an inexperienced ass hole) The compromised integrity of my tent, along with poor site selection, found me awake during the most uncomfortable night of the trip.
One learns lessons based on, as I so articulate and eloquently call "retard fuck ups"