4:25am. I am awakened by the boom of my own hand and head smacking against my headboard. Mrs. Dynamite bolts upright. Oscar bolts upright. What the fuck just happened? I immediately start to laugh as I realize:
I was having a vivid dream that I was back home on the street I grew up on, playing soccer. For some reason, I was guarding Chelsea and England superstar Joe Cole. My team was pressing the action, and I was talking some shit to Cole, as I defended him ruthlessly, shadowing his every move. Someone played a long ball for Joe, and he took off for it, with me turning to bolt with him as soon as the ball was kicked. The only problem was, I turned and bolted in bed too, and made it about 4 inches before I slammed into the headboard. Good morning!
Mrs. Dynamite was confused, but I couldn't stop laughing at the insanity of the situation. Then I remembered a great sleepwalking story from when I was in college. During the summer in my fraternity house, some people lived in rooms different from their rooms during the school year. One such case was Pascal, who lived one floor up from the room he had occupied during the school year. The problem was that the 5th floor and 4th floor had slightly different layouts: from Pascal's 4th floor room, he could stagger out of his room hugging the wall, and fall right into the bathroom. When he tried this stunt on the 5th floor, however, he fell right into Joe's room.
Pascal stumbled into Joe's room, wasted and barely conscious, and went right over to where the urinal was supposed to be. He unleashed a piss storm all over Joe's desk and computer, as Joe shouted in vain, trying to wake up the slumbering giant. Good times. What's college without a melange of drunken urinary exploits? My personal favorite is the picture I have of myself, a young MIT rebel, pissing on the Harvard Law School sign in an act of defiance and conquering. The picture was great because the stream of pee was captured like a strobe effect.
somehow, exploits like those are hard to justify nowadays...
-KD
I was having a vivid dream that I was back home on the street I grew up on, playing soccer. For some reason, I was guarding Chelsea and England superstar Joe Cole. My team was pressing the action, and I was talking some shit to Cole, as I defended him ruthlessly, shadowing his every move. Someone played a long ball for Joe, and he took off for it, with me turning to bolt with him as soon as the ball was kicked. The only problem was, I turned and bolted in bed too, and made it about 4 inches before I slammed into the headboard. Good morning!
Mrs. Dynamite was confused, but I couldn't stop laughing at the insanity of the situation. Then I remembered a great sleepwalking story from when I was in college. During the summer in my fraternity house, some people lived in rooms different from their rooms during the school year. One such case was Pascal, who lived one floor up from the room he had occupied during the school year. The problem was that the 5th floor and 4th floor had slightly different layouts: from Pascal's 4th floor room, he could stagger out of his room hugging the wall, and fall right into the bathroom. When he tried this stunt on the 5th floor, however, he fell right into Joe's room.
Pascal stumbled into Joe's room, wasted and barely conscious, and went right over to where the urinal was supposed to be. He unleashed a piss storm all over Joe's desk and computer, as Joe shouted in vain, trying to wake up the slumbering giant. Good times. What's college without a melange of drunken urinary exploits? My personal favorite is the picture I have of myself, a young MIT rebel, pissing on the Harvard Law School sign in an act of defiance and conquering. The picture was great because the stream of pee was captured like a strobe effect.
somehow, exploits like those are hard to justify nowadays...
-KD
1 comment:
I read a ton of the poker blogs out there and just wanted to say that your writing is some of the best. Good stuff.
Post a Comment