Mean Bears, Total War, and Loafers

Wow, this has become a dream blog. I wonder if there is a single word to describe that: a drog. Yes, I declare this to now be a drog. No, I'm kidding. That's too constricting.

All of the following happened in one night of sleeping (the night before the orgo test dream). There are three parts and they must be interrelated somehow.

It all started in the jungles of Thailand where I was walking through a town that resembled a town of the old wild west: saloons, banks, sheriff's office, and all the others surrounding a rather wide dirt road. The difference came in the scenery. Instead of a desert colored dirt, the ground was covered in a dark, lush, muddy colored dirt. And instead of cacti and open land, there existed a plethora (I can't believe I actually used that word) of tropical jungle trees with dark brown trunks and deep green colored, 1x3 foot leaves that made the area seem very small and tightknit.

My place was the saloon. I was walking toward it and saw two dogs: one, a pug named Dempsey (Possibly named after the US World Cup soccer player (are we legally obligated to call it football in international events?)) and the other, a chihuahua/wiener dog mix of sorts named Lovetail (this name, I do not understand). I squatted outside my saloon and pet Dempsey and Lovetail for a good amount of time. We through toys and they fetched and came back and I pet them some more. It was a good time. Then I went into my saloon.

It looked log cabin sized and kind of resembled it, but with a more western influence. I went inside and saw the only room of the complex. It seemed about 10ft x 12 ft in dimension. There was a twin sized bed that I had from my boyhood years that was surround with wooden accents and a drawer that held another mattress below my sleeping mattress. There were many pillows and a couple of comforting stuffed animals (an elephant, a monkey, other...) on it. All the room of crowded with knickknack here and thingamajig there. Posters, trophies (not very many...haha), pictures, and my desk, also from my youth, which was compact and tall and made from the same wood as my bed.

For a reason unknown to me, I stood on my desk and reached up to the top shelf. There, I found a teddy bear about the size of a book. I said, "awww" and the bear made eye contact, waved, and said, "Hey there, fatso!" with an enormously happy tone of voice. It was like I had pressed a button programed to say a phrase to make the presser extremely happy. Like carebears saying, "I love you!" But this, for obvious reasons, did not make me happy. Instead of hugging the bear and saying, "I love you too!" back to it, I stuffed it away. I left my room and went outside into the wide street.

The street seemed smaller and all the other buildings of the Thailand Wild West were gone. My saloon was all that was left. I turned left and then took another left at the corner of my saloon. There, lying next to a weed, I found another of these bears. I picked it up and the bear said, "Hey there, fatso!" again. I stuffed it away. I then looked up and was now on the beach. My saloon had turned into a more traditional log cabin and there was sand all around, except for the line of cedar trees back toward the mainland. The beach was not straight; it went in and out to see in S shapes. It squiggled, I guess. And now there were multiple people, all clearly designated as this team or that team: good guys or bad guys.

The bad guys had come by ship and for a reason I tried and failed to figure out, had docked their vessels about a half mile away from my cabin. Next to my cabin, about 50 ft away, was a fire that was now just coals with the rocks circling around were it once blazed. Next to that fire, there were a few boxes, and a few guns here and there. Also, there was a picnic table with a red-checkered table cloth, and a huge slab of beef ribs on it. WTF?

The good guys all configured at my cabin and I split them into two groups: one to go west and attack the bad guys head on, and the other to go east to take postion on one of the juttings of beach that went into the sea so we could be protected by three sides with water and so we could give good long distance fire. I went with the east squad.

When we got to the jutting, I ordered the men to take fire on the bad guys. The bad guys had made it next to my cabin and the west squad was attacking them and trying to hold them back. After ten minutes or so, there were about ten bad guys left, and only one good guy. There was a sniper rifle next to me (I had simply been watching for the rest of the battle), so I picked it up and aimed downsight. As would happen in a video game, I picked it up and there was text at the bottom of my vision that read, "You are not high enough level to use this weapon." I tried shooting, but nothing happened. All I could do was look through the scope. I was able to see this single good guy take on all ten bad guys. He took out one, then two, then three, until there were only 3 left.

At this point, I ran down the beach with my eyes on the lone good guy and his battle. I made it to him and helped him take out the remaining two with some tag team wrestling moves I think I saw when the WWF still existed. They probably didnt die. The whole war had the determination and mood associated with a game of capture the flag, instead of all out kill-everybody warfare.

Next, I noticed that I was in the snack area of my high school's basketball gym. There was a varsity girls basketball practice going on, and I was standing in the door thinking, "I wonder if I could beat them." Then I looked to the other side of the court and saw a bunch of brand new basketball shoes poorly hidden under a blue mat.

As I started panning the scene to see what the girls were wearing instead, I heard Coach H (who is normally the varsity boys' coach) and Coach T complain, "Why are you wearing those shoes!? What is wrong with you!?" Two of the girls were wearing loafers of varying shades of brown. My friend, AK, said, "loafers are more comfortable." And then Coach T and H shut up. She must have that kind of power. I sat down in the school desk that was oddly positioned right next to that door into the court. I looked back toward the new shoes and I was able to tell whose shoes belonged to whom based on apparent size of them. Somehow I was 90% sure in my guesses.

Thus, I became a general.