#object lockdown snowboard

[osc-stimz]

Snowboard from Object Lockdown/Object Lockout?

Snowboard OL Stimboard for Anon !

[strange-and-dynamic]

Dateline: May 10th 2022

So there was some sort of lockdown or school wide detention that happened at a modified (and better 🙈) version of my school and the dream started out with me having the knowledge of that, and basically it started with me on the 2nd day of that lockdown being like “oh no we have to end this” (also if I’m being honest aside from not going to recess there really wasn’t anything that bad about the lockdown, like some extra exit paths were locked but we had other exits that weren’t, none of the teachers were strict, we could talk, etc.) and then I go on this actually full flex gameplay meshing with reality adventure, and apparently I’m at the halfway point in the gameplay-reality mesh and I fight this ballet teacher boss who would laugh maniacally and chase me while pirouetting! She laughed maniacally until on my 3rd try (oh btw I would die but come back, like vidya games—) I slapped her 💀💀💀 and then that’s how I figured out how I beat this boss, so I would slap her to stop her for a few seconds, keep running, get my objective finished, and win (oh yeah and this was a ‘constantly chasing you’ type of boss, yes she was pirouetting the entire way)

And then the boss after her was the gym teacher (who was in the same class room I just got the exit to??? And the ballet boss I just beat was just standing in there looking sad because I just beat her????) and the gym teacher had a helper, and the way I beat the gym teacher and his helper was I picked up a mop, shoved the stick part in his face trying to get some damage, then that didn’t work so I tried shoving it down his throat (to which he responded in a fake sexual manner 😳), it slipped out so then I took the mop part and swiped it across his face, and THEN that did damage, so after I beat him and his helper I broke into the bathroom (as to which gender bathroom is unknown but there was only 1 and it was in the classroom so it had to logically be unisex) and the bathroom didn’t have a toilet,,, but had gym showers and a parkour section— so I did the parkour section to get to a little mini key in a vent, and then climbed back down, and ran to upstairs (we were on the second floor, now as to why the ballet class is on the second floor???)

And then when I got to the third floor it was time for the final boss, and the final boss was some random boy my age (based on our heights my dream character had to have been 14-15) who was just chasing me around the entire third floor and I could hide from him but either couldn’t go back down to the 2nd floor or I just wasn’t thinking about it (the final boss was a cat n mouse game????) and when I found my way to the only unlocked staircase (there was no objective for some reason even tho this was the final level—) I make it downstairs to the first floor back exit and it took 2 keys to unlock both doors (because apparently I couldn’t just open one, even tho only one is usually open at dismissal 🙄) I’m guessing I got the 1st key before the halfway point because I now have 2 keys????? And I go “cmon please work, moment of truth!” And unlock the 2 doors to freedom! I run out into the recess yard, that was filled with snow when I was looking out the classroom window but when I got down there it was filled sand???? Me and every student from the building all went in the yard and we all had winter clothes on like it was cold (I couldn’t feel the temperature but none of us were breathing vapor) and a student wrote “SAVE ME” in the sand and I called her selfish under my breath and wrote “SAVE US” in the sand with a key I had on me, and that’s the end of the reality-game ✨

Also extras:

• my story made it on the news but I woke up before the news lady could actually get to my story (instead of getting to revolutionary school story first she got to the snowboarders boarding in sand story 🙄)

• There was some running theme of using sand like snow??

• I can remember the ballet teacher’s design perfectly and she looked like this:

• My design changed from a girl that wasn’t me in my school uniform when I was in the ballet class to 6th grade me in winter clothes when I beat the classroom

• The ballet teacher looked like a Monster High custom doll but like not ball jointed and, y’know, human sized— and her shoes kept transitioning from white to light blue, like that effect when you leave white silk in a windowsill under a clear blue sky, reminiscing?? 🤔

[waywardsparrownz]

Beginnings or Endings

  “I had let go of the mask, but the mask wouldn’t let go of me…”

  “Hmmm… Would make a good opening line for a novel don’t you think?”

  “What sort of novel?” Finchly peered down from the rafters inquisitively.

  “Well, it would have to be something reflective. Memoir style.” I mused, chewing slowly on my words. “Some doctor who’d given up on his trade and gone to live in the Himalayas. Years later finds his services required to save his mountain community from an outbreak of disease, or perhaps heal soldiers during a war that arrived on his doorstep. A man disillusioned from his former life forced to pick up a mantle he’d left behind. Confronting the demons that overcame him in the first place…” I trailed off lost amongst the multitude of options.

  “Gettin’ awful dark there bud; you sure you’re alright?” Finchly sounded concerned. “Anyway I think it sounds way more like an old-school superhero. Puts down the mask & suit for a quiet life, then called to put them on again & save the world once more! Sorta like me when I bothered you about starting up the blog again.” And then the concern was gone. Sometimes the best friends are the ones who remind you they care at the start of a comment, before turning it into a joke at your expense.

  While my novel opening had many possible translations I’d conceived it as more autobiographical than anything else. Before embarking on my New Zealand adventures I had been a metalworker for the better part of 6 years. An interesting time indeed, which had taught me a great deal, but a life I’d felt quite certain I’d left behind. Six years of wearing high end full face respirators doesn’t often leave wearer with much nostalgia for such contraptions. And yet here I was in the entryway of the local grocer wearing another one (albeit a much lower quality cousin of the standard foundry-worker’s getup) of the goddamned stuffy contraptions. As previously stated: I had let go of the mask, but the mask wasn’t quite ready to let go of me. Somewhat ironic really.

  While a new virus rampaged across China, then Europe, & eventually the rest of the world; Finchly and I enjoyed an extended period of blissful ignorance. Ski resorts tucked away in the Wyoming mountains are some of the last places to receive worldly tidings, & even when they eventually do don’t tend to stir up much of a response anyway. After all we’re generally too busy skiing, snowboarding, or ice-fishing (there remains the small possibility that some of the ice fishers are still thawing their toes by the lake huts & haven’t yet heard the news, but that’s another matter entirely). Anyway, while the world disintegrated into chaos, nothing of note really changed in our little valley for most of the winter. That is until everything in the state of Wyoming shut down all at once. Perhaps it wouldn’t have come as a shock had we been paying more attention, but as I said: we were busy skiing. For those who don’t already know: skiing (and its surrounding activities) can be a very distracting pursuit.

  With that extremely thorough synopsis of world (and Wyomingside) events behind us, we now arrive in the present. Being a tourism based industry, Jackson Hole ski resort is currently closed. Finchly is now gainfully (we’ll get to that in another blog post) unemployed, & I’m halfway through my shift as a shopping cart sanitizer. Yes that is a real job. Officially I’m a grocery clerk, but there were too many checkers in today so I’m a “Cart Sanitizer” for the afternoon. Not a bad spot really. Getting paid & talking to a sparrow while while watching the sun fall behind the jagged peaks of the Tetons.

  “Excuse me!” A middle age lady approaches, looking terribly worried.

  “Hello, do you want me to clean  off a cart for you?”

  “Well yes, but first I need you to clean off my gloves.” She holds out a pair of brand new latex gloves (somewhat of a hot commodity these days), indicating I am to spray the inside of them with my little spritzer bottle of bleach.

  I’m a little confused & slow to respond. “I, ugh… I don’t think you want me to do that… This is bleach - nasty stuff for your hands.”

  “But I want to be clean.”

  “It might make the gloves hard to put…”

  “Just do it!!!”

  Can’t object to that logic. I spray her brand new gloves inside and out with bleach & carefully swab down the cart as she struggles to put them on. By the time I’ve wiped down every surface of the shopping cart twice she’s managed to rip one of the gloves in half trying to get it on & grouchily points to a spot I missed near the wheels. As I’m finishing up another lady dashes in and douses her hands in Purell from the door dispenser. She then washes her face in it, yelping when she accidentally gets a large dollop in her eye. I lean against the wall & close my eyes, groaning at the level of idiotic eccentricity which has somehow become normal overnight. Finchly chuckles the whole while. The Purell addiction has arrived in Wyoming at last.

  “So what’s for dinner anyway?” Finchly asks, pulling me out of my more morose thoughts.  

  “Pulled pork nachos obviously! And this time we’re making them with Doritos.” Like everyone one else stuck in various forms of quarantine or lockdown I’ve gotten pretty creative with home cuisine as of late. Besides we couldn’t find any regular corn chips. “ Yuh know, maybe this time you should pay for…” I was cut short as something strange caught the corner of my eye. Outside the main doors the was a large barrel of Purell donated by the local breweries. Following the theft of a larger barrel last week the grocer had chained this one to a nearby pillar for safekeeping. Unfortunately this preventative measure wasn’t looking too promising. A burly man in his 40s knelt behind the pillar, holding the chain tightly clamped in a pair of bolt cutters. I mulled the situation over for a moment before purposefully looking away. Yesterday one of my coworkers had gotten yelled at by an angry fellow who had tried to fill a 2 liter jug from the communal barrel. I had no interest in the sort of trouble the current situation was bound to cause. Plausible deniability is often one’s best bet.

  “Aren’t you gonna do anything?” Finchly fluttered down onto my shoulder hopping about excitedly. “We could save the town Purell and be heroes! I bet they’d even put us on the front page of the paper!” He ruffled up his feathers trying to look fierce.

  “Keep it down!” I hissed, “First of all: hardly anyone reads the paper. Secondly: look at that dude, he’s at least 6 ft and twice my weight! Today is not a good day to die my friend. Think of the nachos!” I looked at him pleadingly.

  Finchly seemed pretty determined, but the mention of nachos gave him pause. Meanwhile a quick glance over my shoulder revealed our thief had managed to cut the chain & scurrying off towards an idling truck with the barrel precariously balanced on his shoulder. I turned back to my friend. “Nachos or justice? It’s your choice Fin…”

  “Hey you! Where do ya think you’re going with that?!” my dramatic monologue was cut short by a commotion outside.

  “None of your biz… Ahhhh!” SmAck! THUMP!!!! Finchly flew out the doors with me in hot pursuit. The scene which unfolded before us was somewhere between insane and hilarious. A small semicircle of onlookers surrounded the would-be thief, who lay spreadeagled in the parking lot knocked out cold. The Purell barrel had fallen on top of him, breaking open and spilling its contents all over his torso; creating a miniature lake in the area.

  “What happened?” Someone asked, whistling.

  “Well I yelled at him. Must’ve spooked him, cuz he started running. Made it about three yards and slipped on a rubber glove! Barrel flew like six feet in the air an’ landed square on top of him. Darnedest thing I’ve seen this year!”

  I looked over at Finchly, and couldn’t help thinking this wouldn’t be the weirdest things were yet to come. “Well man, I think we”re in for a strange summer.”

  “At least you’ll have plenty of material to write about.” He chirped back, winking mischievously.