The Arkanssouri Blog.: I was on Blue Team . . .

Wednesday, January 05, 2005

I was on Blue Team . . .




. . . and our assignment was to herd a bunch of cattle through a series of pens and alleyways. They did not cooperate.

I was apparently Assistant Team Leader. Everyone on my team apparently had some dissociative mental disorder, though they looked like average people. One thought it would be helpful to clap his hands and sing, off-key and without rhythm, "Feel the silky touch of my gonads!" over and over.

It was a phrase I hadn't thought of in years. On a school field trip, about four of us guys were sharing a motel room and we were watching music videos. One was Madonna's
Dress You Up.

As pubescent males are wont to do, we could turn anything into a single entendre. We could make a peanut butter sandwich sexual, if we wanted. The song was much too subtle for our tastes, so
one of our troop rewrote the "Feel the silky touch of my caresses" lyric to "Feel the silky touch of my gonads."

I found this hilarious and repeated the sentence over and over all night long, but I changed the meter of it to "Feel the silky . . . touch of MY GONADS!" in a rising pitch.

But that's all background. The point is, herding Blue Team was more difficult than herding the cattle. I gave up and accepted that we would probably lose to the anonymous Red Team.

Then Team Leader had an idea.

"They'll follow you if we dangle you from a helicopter and give you kittens! You'll be able to lead them to the finish."

I knew it wouldn't work, but just wanted the experience over. We attached a line to a helicopter hovering over the cattleyard, gave me a fuzzy blue sweater, and put two clingy little white kittens on it. They clung to me, eventually climbing to my shoulders.

I swung over the cattleyard, and I'll be damned if the cattle didn't follow me.

There is then a timeshift, and I am watching the program on TV. I learn there was never a Red Team, and it wasn't a contest at all, just a reality show that puts control freaks (like me) in absurd situations where they have to deal with crazy people.

The prize was $50000 for the ten-member team. They hadn't expected us to be successful. They just wanted to humiliate me.

Then the closing credits for the show come up, and a promo for the next episode. It is then that I learn that the name of the show is (and I hesitate to write this because I NEVER use the word) "SHE BEHAVES LIKE A NIGGER." It is in Big Yellow Stylized Letters. and is arranged like this:

SHE BEHAVES
LIKE A
NIGGER.
It must be a UPN show. Or maybe the WB.
I have no idea why that is the name of the show.


It is then that I wake up, look at the clock, and hear Coast to Coast AM just beginning it's live program on the AM station in Louisville.


I listen awhile and fall back to sleep.


I don't remember much about the next adventure, just that I am sleeping in the front seat of a crew-cab pickup. Some other guy is sleeping in the back seat. We are on our way to a concert or athletic event of some kind and stopped to sleep. A shadow passes over me and I look out the driver's side window to see a giant blimp-shaped shadow. The shadow is in the sky, somehow, reflecting off of nothing.


I wake the other guy up and ask "Do they have a blimp here?"


He mumbles "I think the college does."


I sit up and look out the windshield, upward. I see the blimp.

Instead of propellers, it has jet engines.


I get out of the truck . . . only now it's more of an SUV, pop up the rear hatch to get something and notice that someone has spilled something to drink in the cupholder back there (WHY is there a cupholder back there?). It is now covered in hundreds of pissants. I brush them out on the ground.


That's all I remember about that adventure.

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