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Usually drunken.

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Paul’s Psycho Theater (Part 2)

Jul 1, 2009, 8:38 am by Paul Stiverson

A bunch of other interns and I were wanting to go to this event, a speech of some sort honoring some guy. The speech was taking place down toward San Jose, about 12 miles away from where we all were. Despite the fact that I have a car we decided that it would be fun to “Borrow” the keynote speaker’s RV to get to the speech. We found it and broke in, but as soon as we started driving we were found out by the cops who started chasing us immediately. Thankfully we were better drivers than they (somehow we knew all the roads really well and traffic wasn’t a problem), and we made it to the event unscathed. Evading the cops was really way too easy, it was like running from the cops in GTA (1.5~2.5 star level), but their cars were slower than our RV. I’m not really sure what or where this event was, but it took place in a lecture hall sort of place, think Blocker 102, but longer. We were seated near the back, and inexplicably the speaker was seated back there as well, he was actually planning on delivering the speech from the back. It was a clever ruse, lets see if it works out for him.

The speech started with something of an introduction where the guy’s credentials were delivered, I remember clearly that he did his undergraduate work at Berkeley, and his graduate work at Stanford. Toward the end of the introduction I made some smart-ass remark, and the speaker—being seated the row behind me—heard and was taken aback. He decided to punish me by making me introduce him, I simply recited the previous introduction, but was tripped up on a few details. I was really trying very hard to remember all his bona fides (and make all the same jokes as the unseen speaker), but drew a blank on a few minor details. The speech ended pretty abruptly after that and we all headed outside.

As we left the lecture hall (I remember talking to another intern about the speaker having done his undergrad at Berkeley and his graduate work at Stanford, but it took me 3 tries to say it right) I suggested that we distance ourselves from the quote-unquote Scene of the Crime, also known as the RV we had previously stolen. My cohorts looked over the area and decided that there were no cops about, despite the fact that stereotypical swat and surveillance vans were circling the area. I decided I wanted nothing to do with their foolishness and that I would find my own ride home rather than go to jail. As I walked away from them I saw them open the RV door and lo, cops come piling out arresting them all immediately. One of my fellow interns immediately cracks, and I see him point at me, I think to myself “Oh shit, I’m fucked” and start signaling to other people as if I know them. A cop walks up to me and asks me to step aside with him to answer some questions. At this point I realize that I am carrying a green army laundry bag over my shoulder and that I certainly look suspicious, I also realize that I need to crap really badly.

I asked the cops if they were going to detain me, they said no, I ask them if I’m free to go, and they say no. Seemed like a contradiction. I told them that I really had to poop, and that I remembered there being a public restroom nearby. The let me leave to crap on my promise to return immediately, I left my duffel bag with them because I really didn’t feel like carrying it anymore. As I walked away I told them, that is still my property, and it would still be a violation of my Fourth Amendment rights if you searched it without my permission—apparently I’m a lawyer in my sleep. I scampered in the direction of the bathroom. What I found was the weirdest part of my dream, and I someday have to build it. (If you are still reading then this next paragraph is your reward)

The bathroom that I found was really more like a locker-room for giants. It was about half the size of a city block, and it had all sorts of high-school locker room types of stuff, but at a ridiculous scale. I found the stalls, they were 15ft tall and blue, the bluest blue I had ever seen. Also the stalls were about 100ft long and 20ft wide, I opened the absurdly sized door and made my way down the long corridor to the most amazingly convoluted toilet I have ever conceived of. Let me see if I can adequately describe it: There was a big blue cube, it was taller than me, but when I jumped up I could see the hole (where the poop goes). From this blue cube two arms extended (toward the door), they were hinged to the cube, and they had an elbow in the middle. At the end of the arm there was a stainless steel seat (3ft, square), but notably there was no hole in the seat (for the poop to fall through). Below the seat there was a foot-rest, or perhaps it was a stirrup (where your feet would go while you poop). I think that you were supposed to sit on the seat (which would have been a feat considering it was at shoulder height), which then moved you into position over the toilet tank over which you poop. Bizarre design, but intriguing. (In case the description didn’t work for you there is a drawing below) [The more I think about it the more I think it was a trap. If I had sat on the seat it would have just dropped me into the shit-hole. I’m really glad I decided against it.]

Needless to say there was no way for me to poop anywhere in that bathroom, so I needed to venture further into the unknown to find a place to poop, I saw a mall down the street and headed for it. It is well past midnight at this point so there is nothing open, but I manage to get inside the mall and begin fruitlessly looking for a toilet. I’m not sure how long I wandered around the mall, but it was a while. When I finally exited I was carrying shopping bags: paper in my left hand, plastic in my right. There had to have been 50lbs of stuff in those bags, but I wasn’t really sure what that stuff might have been. I walked through the parking lot, still looking for a toilet, but slightly concerned that the cops would be looking for me by now and thinking that I should probably get back to where I had left them (so I could collect my duffel bag).

I saw a convertible driving toward me, in it were two ladies. When it pulled up beside me I realized that there were two more ladies crammed in behind the front row of seats. I asked them where the theater was (that is where the speech was held apparently), and they didn’t know. The did describe—in great detail—the political dealings of the area, about how the director of Ames was lobbying for blah, blah, blah. I asked them where I might find a bathroom and they prattled on about nothing useful or interesting (typical womanly behavior, am I right? HIGH FIVE!). I decided to take my leave of them, which my mind mistook for wanting to wake up. Lying in bed I realized that I really did have to (and still do need to) poop.

I’ll see you in the next installment of Paul’s Psycho Theater.
Strange Giant Toilet Trap

Interesting Dream

Jun 27, 2009, 9:49 pm by Paul Stiverson

This morning I had the most vivid and immersive dream of my life (It even had sub-plots).

My sister, Carin, and I were at a family reunion sort of thing that was taking place in a huge community center sort of place which had all sorts of amusements and large (grassy) open areas while still being indoors. All the extended family was there. At one point Carin, having been there before and knowing all the cool stuff about the building, suggested that we take this elevator to a different level of the facility. We hit the call button, waited, and got on. I expected the elevator to go straight up, what with having ridden in an elevator before, but after going up for a few seconds it started spiraling. The elevator was fully enclosed (no windowed wall) but we could feel the acceleration of it spinning and gyrating, after what seemed like a long time on the elevator—which had only two buttons on the inside, one for the first floor and one for the sixth—I realized that we hadn’t hit a the button for our desired floor which I assumed would have been six. I moved over to the buttons and started to press the only button other than the one representing the floor we had just left, but Carin moved in to stop me, saying that if we press it to early they won’t let us up there. We stood by the buttons for a while and all at once I knew the timing was right, she confirmed my hypothesis by shouting “NOW” as I pushed the button.

At the onset of the dream I was wearing what I thought was my grey suit with all the regular accoutrements (I spelled that right on the first try), as we were getting on the elevator I noticed that the cuff on my left suit sleeve was all fucked up and set out to try to fix it. After futzing with the cuff for what seemed like minutes I realized that this suit didn’t used to have cuffs at the arms and was suddenly quite confused, I looked at the other arm and realized that it had a cuff and was put at ease. Observing the other cuff allowed me to fold the left cuff the way it was supposed to be, but for some reason re-folding it caused the sleeve to cinch up and it became very tight around my wrist. This was when I realized the elevator button had not been pushed.

As the elevator dinged and screeched to a stop Carin told me that we would have to run or else they would kick us out. When the doors opened we sprung into action and ran like hell, I was following Carin because I had no idea where we were or where we were going. I did hear shouts of people saying “You’re not supposed to be here,” who quickly followed in chase. We were running very fast, like five times faster then I could possibly run in real life, but the girl who was chasing us was moving about two times faster than us. The girl that caught us was wearing a cocktail dress and three inch heels, I was embarrassed to be caught by a girl in heels, but incredibly impressed that she could run so quickly in those shoes. Two other scantily-clad girls moved in to surround us. They scolded us saying “Only famous scientists and literates are allowed up here, do you fit that category?” As I looked around I realized that there were a bunch of professor-looking types with suede sleeved jackets milling around talking about non-sense. We protested as they lead us toward the exit, which was the trippiest staircase I had ever seen.

This staircase was our punishment in a way, it was like a spaghetti bowl maze of spiraling staircases different noodles that split off, combined, dead-ended, submerged in water, and did all sorts of crazy things. The stairs were also not limited to going just downward, they would swoop up and down at different areas, it truly was a three dimensional maze (also, I someday have to build one of these). We began descending the stairs and after a while of trying to find our way we got separated on two different stairwells, but both had the same idea to escape back up to the sixth floor, we started jumping rails onto different stairwells that we had observed might lead us back up there. The three girls, who had been watching us descend, quickly caught on to our plan and began to chase us again. During the chase I was dead-ended by a watery stairwell and had to jump from handrail to handrail to get to a different set of stairs, but I slipped. Thankfully I caught myself, but my shoes had gotten water-logged. The chase continued. I approached another watery part but this time realized that if I crab-walked on the handrails that I could make it without getting too wet, so I did, but alas I slipped again and my whole backside got wet. I made it through, but the girls with their superior speed and knowledge of the layout caught us both and forced us back up the stairs to the sixth level. They didn’t say where they were taking us, but it seemed sinister. Two of the pretty guard girls had somewhere to be, but they said they would catch up to us and help with the escort, thus leaving us alone with only one of the guards. We all walked to our common unknown destination, and along the way we got to talking.

During the walk I looked down to assess the damage to my clothing, nothing serious. I did notice that my suit was not the grey suit I thought it was, but instead a bluish-grey thing with light green trim, it was a bad-ass leisure-suit from the ’70s.

After a while of walking we bonded with our captor and she eventually passed us a flask after she took a swig. She wasn’t carrying a purse, and I was confused about where she had pulled that flask from, but thought it best not to ask. When I looked at the surroundings for potential escape routes I realized that we had entered a sort of suburban neighborhood with quaint little fenced-in houses (still indoors mind you). Carin and I had the same idea and escaped to one of the fenced-in areas, and the guard followed us, but wasn’t chasing us… she had joined our band and was going to help us evade the other guards who were surely fast approaching. They were, and they caught us quickly, but not before I could wake up and realize that it was all an incredibly bizarre dream.

it is something

Oct 6, 2008, 3:49 pm by Lew

ain't it?!Last night fellow rambler zach made an astute statement. once you are doing this adulthood thing many of us have recently engaged in that "there is always something." it feels like you always have a bunch of tasks that for legal/financial/employment/all-of-the-above reasons needs your immediate attention (and money). It is always something. You plan out your near future and figure out what needs your attention, thinking once that is done you will be able to relax a little. but as soon as you are done something else just as demanding pops up. i have certainly found this to be true. i started writing this with intentions on bitching, but i won't. i think while writing this i came to terms with the fact that "it is always something." that is just part of the background noise of adulthood. now that i have accepted that fact i think i can deal with it better. maybe i can relax even when there is "something." if i don't well then i guess i can never relax.

tangent! do y'all smell things in your dreams? i rarely do but now and then i remember smelling things in my dreams. it surpises me a little that i dont more often because smelling is so intimately tied to memory. i could smell my car (the thing i was going to bitch about) in my dream last night. it was cool. i usually see and hear things in my dreams. rarely smell. never taste or feel (i guess that is why i have never had a wet dream). so tally please. how often do you smell things in your dreams?

a few things that matter

Aug 20, 2008, 11:26 am by Lew

Into the wild is a terrible movie. If you are not familiar with it already let me bring you up to speed. It is based on a true story about a guy who gave up all his money and possessions and lived in the wild. Eventually making his way up to Alaska, where he died after eating poisonous berries. I am all behind people living in nature, doing without modern comforts. It is a beautiful and romantic idea. I was really excited to see the movie. However the movie’s portrayal of this guy’s adventure is awful. The dialog is at a middle school level (or apparently sean penn level), the acting is not very good (it has vince Vaughn in it for some reason). So nothing against the real guy, I am pretty sure this movie is not doing his story justice. It is the first movie that I rented and could not sit through. I turned it off twice trying to trudge my way though it. I can usually sit through a movie even it is bad, this was painful.

This morning my cat was screaming at me to wake up and feed her. I wasn’t ready to get up yet a rolled over back to sleep. I dreamt that my cat was angry at me and decided to ally herself to the Russians. In the dream the Russians were my rabbits.

I am sad that the frozen bigfoot was (of course) a hoax. I wanted to believe!!!

I am extra sad about the 1 month old humpback whale baby in Australia. It got separated from its mother somehow and has been cuddling up to a boat it mistakes for a momma whale. It tries to nurse off the boat. They will probably euthanize the poor thing before it starves to death unless another momma whale happens by and adopts the baby whale.

I need to stop reading the news so much.


po' baby whale

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