Okay, WTF?!?!
This was a freakin’ cheerleader camp, but it wasn’t. I don’t even now, really. It was set up in the guise of some celebration of achievement. Top caliber who-evers from all over the country… and for the big presentation, all of us recipients had to learn… a big choreographed number. Yeah, how gay is that? Only it wasn’t.
The whole process, it seems the thing was rigged just so three annoying, cheesy bimbettes could have one last shot to show off their old, faded glory days. And it was awful and obvious what was happening. They tried to act like they were making it up as their went, but the three of them instantly knew what they were gonna do and would perform the same steps in unison, as they were ‘creating’…
There were maybe five guys in the whole thing, and the damned bitches couldn’t choreograph for a guy if their lives depended on it… and they kept implying that I couldn’t get it… well, duh! They couldn’t teach! They would go through the moves once, at full speed without explaining or calling any of it and the three of them wouldn’t even do it all the same… Yeah. (The paraphrase Val for A Chorus Line… I could dance rings around those other girls… I had terrific fan kicks!) They never seemed to get that I might be gay, that I might know what I was doing and that I might be better at it than they were…
Ugh! It was awful. The entire experience. At points, I started waking from it because it was so completely irritating. It was so phony. And everyone else just loved it! Ate the shit up! It embraced the entire concept of rewarding bad examples of human behavior, which has been such a hot spot for me throughout my life. (And more recently, which I think is the major cause of the dream…)
As the dream progressed, due mostly to a slight awakening I think, it have a bit of a shift, we had returned to camp, it was literally camping… There was had been a downpour (how we hadn’t gotten hit by it at ‘practice’ I don’t know) and it was starting up again. My tent had collapsed. I booked to my site to get my stuff out of the tent and into my car… to salvage what I could… boxes of comic books (what the hell were those doing there?) clothes, and I open the car door and it is already almost full, WTF? (Do I really take that much crap with me camping?) Someone came running down to help me… It was Tim Gunn (Did I forget to mention Tim Gunn was there? Hahahahaha! I love my dreams!) We frantically tried to save what we could and shortly, he was reminding me that it was only a couple moments to showtime. (I can’t honestly say if he told me to “Make it work!”…)
Yeah, that’s my dream…
I can make out a few reasons for chunks of it, but – really – WTF?
gryphon's hole 