The Blissful Idiot – Volume I / Episode Seven: Train Comin’ Round the Bend

Blissful Idiot_7

Catch up:

EPISODE ONE:
JOURNEY INTO THE FILTHY BEAST

EPISODE TWO:
THE PENETRATION OF STUFFS

EPISODE THREE:
THE SWEATY GEOMETRY WIZARD

EPISODE FOUR:
THE CASE OF THE SUPER FILTHY HOSPITALITY TENT

EPISODE FIVE:
A DIRTY SING-ALONG AFFAIR

EPISODE SIX:
THE NAKED GIRL COMETH

 

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Last week on The Blissful Idiot:

“This must’ve been quite the crystallizing moment for the circle, as it epitomized what the whole god forsaken festival was supposed to be about, I guess. Stupid trans-infomercial festival value system! You know, maybe this was an appropriate time to actually back up all that New-Agey superhuman mumbo jumbo from the future about accepting people unconditionally and stuffs. Whatever that means. Surely it posed a few intriguing dilemmas though, right? I mean, would the circle truly embrace this naked wayward traveler or would we turn our backs cuz it was too much to handle out of the freaking blue? Would we continue to make that leap together or collapse back into our shells? Would we let her take the reins on this fun train or would we fall right off the tracks? Would Mrs. Bush and I finally go get ice cream sandwiches? Geeez Louise, what is this, one of those fuckhead afterschool specials? Well freakin’ flippity fuck if I know! So on that note…”

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copyright of test subject

 

Matthew A. Cremer reporting  = 0 )

Front and center in the middle of the fake Indian gift shop, aka the Tipi, the Naked Girl was primed to further this crazy “Bridge to Anywhere” voyage to whatever nether region it was plunging into. Good lord, there’s clearly no gosh darn road map for an unchained melody shit-show like this! With no hesitation about her, I sensed she already knew where she might take us rollicking glue sniffers. However, just as she was digging her heels in, there was still a filthy degree of trepidation floating around the circle. Being that my protective spandex and panty scarf had already been rendered totally useless, I was pretty gosh darn nervous to say the least. At this point, the jimmies, willies and Stan Van Gundy’s of fear sandwiches were rapidly mutating into one another with potentially no goddamn end in sight! I definitely wasn’t the only one though. That’s because there was a big ole heaping of awkward glances here and jittery body language there between folks in the circle. The kiddy gloves must’ve still been intact. Perhaps they’d been sown right the golly hell on. Dang it, why must there always be a kooky caveat bringing apprehension up the rear?!?! But damn it people, enough beating around the gosh darn bush already! If we were gonna swim our way out of this mess – the time was now. Yes, as in now NOW. Not yesterday’s hits from the golden motherfuckin’ oldies now!

Taking everything in full stride, the Naked girl jumped right in on that dirty “Conductor” action as if she was the one teaching the class. Whoooaaaaa baby! Are you ready for this? Because I don’t think you are. First she got a section of girls going with a pretty happenin’ ditty (“tala-dah-tayyy-ohhhh-dah”). And with a hop, skip and a juicy jump moved right over to another group, showing them a fancy finger-snappin’ thang. But wait, there’s more. Before you knew it, she was off to a section of sweaty dudes, layin’ down a fresh beat (“chicka-chew-chicka-chew-chicka-chew”). With those first crazy straw strokes, the circle was most definitely taken aback by how far she’d leapt right out of the gate. Dare I ask too far? Oh boy, if she wasn’t careful, that girl might over-freaking-do-it! This train’s gotta be set in motion nice ‘n’ smooth – nice and effing smooth! “But no…Wait a minute…the ditty needs to be louder. LOUDER! Wait…that’s TOO LOUD. You know what, it’s cool, just go with that for now. Lemme move over here and I’ll be back in a hot second…”

Good golly, she’d already gotten crazy with the cheese whiz! Was she shifting from 1st to 5th to 2nd or some crazy shit? Holy cannoli Naked Girl, just don’t strip the gears. Don’t strip the freakin’ gears! Oh sweet fun zone sauce, what had I gotten myself into here?!?! This was absolute lunacy!!!!

“ALRIGHT, you guys start clapping JUST LIKE THIS…RIGHT…NOW. Yeaaaaah, you got it, you got it! And you three over there, start humming in sync with the clapping. Ok you guys, I’M BACK. That’s still kind of loud, don’t cha think? Bring it down just a smidge more…NOW IT’S WORKING.”

Then, before the Naked Girl could even collect herself, she was on to a whole new gaggle of girls! Oh shit, where’s my seatbelt? Where’s my seatbelt! What do you mean, there’s no effing seatbelts? Fuck it, just gonna have to hold onto my panty scarf for dear life. Hold the frickity flap on!

“Okaaaay, ready…here we go. Gimme an “ah-ah-ahhhhhhhhh” RIGHT…NOW. C’mon girls, give it to me hard. Yes, you especially, give it to me! Ah-ah-ah-ah-ahhhhhhhhhhhh! YES, yes – just like that! I can feel it! Can you?? Can you feeeeeeeel it????”

Was…was she gonna crazy-straw-stir the fuck out of everything? Was this…was this gonna be too many moving goddamn parts to keep up with?!?! Geez freakin’ Louise, I didn’t know whether to feel noxious or exhilarated or tickled or, or what was being stirred up from within my innocent, youthful body. Wooooooooo…breathe…wooooooooo…breathe baby, just breathe. Everything’s gonna be alright. I mean, gosh darn it, I think it will, right?

But surriously though, surely she was gonna take a ballyhoo of a breather here in a hot second. I mean, one can only flex their soulful swagger for so long, right? Right – but gee willickers lathered in hot fudge sundaes, apparently this ain’t your grandpappy’s Naked Girl sing-along jamboree either! Cuz after she got them first half dozen sections chuggin’ right along, the Naked Girl was nowhere near finished. Like hell she was! She gave yet another 3-some of girls a sweet rhythm (“hey-hey-hey”) that injected even more backbone deeper into the operation.

As each section gradually locked into place with just the right momentum, the filthy structural ingenuity of everything was rooting itself deeper. Yes – deeeeeeeeeeeeeper. Oh wow – we got penetration, people! With everyone submerging further into the soundscape the Conductor had dreamt up, the signs of life were present. All the unease from before was being replaced by a big ole rising wave of confidence from among us glue-sniffers. People were makin’ heavy eye contact left and right. Shootin’ cheesy grins at one another. Movin’ them funky limbs in electric unison. Feelin’ out the space and knowin’ their goddamn place. You know, gettin’ all dialed into each other and shit. So much so that a once thought to be strange occurrence was taking hold of glue sniffer hearts and souls alike. People in the circle were…wait for it…wait for it…mindfully listening and connecting to one another. Holy shitball stew, so you’re sayin’ there’s a chance? Yes indeed, the wacky elements of our ensemble were aligning and beginning to pick up a big ole head of steam! That’s right – the necromancer had cast her spell. And the kiddy gloves were coming right the golly heck off. Wheeeeeew! FINALLY. “But what could it mean?” you ask. I’ll tell ya what the frick it meant: we were geekin’ and gellin’ and hittin’ our collective G-spot stride and, and dare I say it – shaking our fucking asses.

There – I said it. I feel super duper filthy and dirty and I love it, bitches.

Bouncing in between sections, our Conductor kept massaging them sonic kinks out like the naked fool boss she was. Workin’ out those details like Jane effing Fonda spandex, the vibe in the space was getting looser and looser and l o o s e r. And the intimacy was only getting juicier and juicier and juicier. Yeah, that’s right Naked Girl – get it goin’. Get it goin’ reeeeeeal goooooood! You know you likey the conducting! With our funky bunch churning right along plenty strong, the rhythmic undercurrent was gaining more and more traction. We were on the precipice of something, alright. Because before ya knew it, the waves of inspiration were really comin’ out, ready to play and mingle. People be rearin’ back, ready to act out on their filthy desires!

It started when a hippie gal stepped up to get the fast break going. With a “doo-da-da-doo” thingy, she spun some serious hot English on the ball as another hippy dippy guy took the feed, tagging her phrase with a silky-smooth “ahhhhhhhhh”. Now that’s just nasty! Then the “hey-hey-hey” Solid Gold dancers got busy in the hizzy, changin’ things up to a “doo-doo-doo” sweet rhythm to complement those two in the open court. Look at them freakin’ show-offs! As if this baller action wasn’t agile as fuck enough, a completely different dude got in on things with an alteration going off the first duder. Laying in an “ahh-ohh-ahh-ohhhh” with impeccable-ass delivery, the possibilities were increasing by the nanosecond. Oh boy, were those splashing waves of musical goodness getting intense! It’s like, “Where the golly heck did all this just freakin’ come from?” Oh yeah, that’s right – there was a totally butt-ass naked person raising an all-out cosmic ruckus in the middle of a fake Indian gift shop inside of a filthy Transformational festival! That’s what!

Indeed, the TLC the Fein had fed us along the way was showing through like gangbusters. Like gangbusters, I tell ya! This touchy-feely vibe train we had goin’ on was the kind of unified team spirit we’d slowly, but rather surely been building throughout the entire adventure. But that wasn’t even the end of it. Like heck it was! Cuz even more peeps kept breakin’ out of the filthy fold; ready to take things up yet another notch into a god forsaken higher gear. To fearlessly let their uniqueness flow right to the freakin’ surface.

“That sweet, sweet sound of the soul glows, glows, glows a-bright,” belted out a dreadlocked girl from the depths of her being. “Ohhhh, it burns, burns, burns so bright. Oh yes it burns!” Fuck yeah, it does. Get it girl, get it! With our gang hangin’ on each line like it was freakin’ Scripture – everyone was right there in that moment. Even when ole girl hesitated oh-so-slightly, it was met right away with one heckuva hearty love nudge. Chanting “Don’t stop, don’t stop, keep it goingggggg” that became its own lil rhythm section, a couple other gals coaxed her further along. Beckoning the call, she came right back with an impassioned outburst of exaltation. “Ohhhh, it flows, flows, flows like a river does a go-oooooo to the sea. Yesssss, right on through to that ohhhhhhh-pen seaaaaaaaaa!”

Sweet Simon and Garfunkel, there was a wild chain reaction being set off within this emerging collage of candor! People were coming out of the filthy goddamn woodwork left and golly heck right! With some form of divine invocation ringing mightily throughout that Tipi, the malaise had been shaken. Everyone was wide awake. And gosh darn it there was no turning back. The spiritual check was being written and it sure as golly fuck was gonna get cashed. Damn it Naked Girl, you’ve really done it now!

Riding the collective wave of stimulation, a guy who I hadn’t even noticed before gallantly threw his silly hat in the ring. “Ohhhh when I flyyyyy, I feel so a-liiiiiiiiiive and I feel so strong and I can’t go wrong…and it feels so riiiiiiiiiight when I feel soooooo a-liiiiiiiiiive! I’ve just gotta go, gotta go, gotta go-oooooooooooo…” And before anyone could even begin to process that stream of conscious eruption, some kind of crazy “flow-off” madness broke the heck out as another girl dove in with her own exuberant iteration. “I gotta go, gotta flow, gotta go, gotta flow, gotta go-oooooooo!” He wasn’t even finished though, getting in there with a slight variation. “I gotta flow, water gotta flow, I gotta flow, water gotta flow.” Ahhhh yes – the plot thickens. But then…but then his female buddy fired right back with “you gotta flow, I gotta flow, water gotta flow, we all gotta flooooooooow!” Playfully getting up in each other’s space, the two were practically challenging each other!

Who gotta flow?

You gotta flow!

Who gotta flow?

We all gotta flow!

Good lord! And just when you thought shit couldn’t get any more goddang flow-ey-er —> it got flow-ey-er! Because bringing it up the freaking rear was a guy/girl tandem, coming in hot with a low-end rumble of “We’ve gotta flow, gotta flow, we’ve gotta flow, gotta flow” as the backdrop to their lively flim-flam banter.

Jesus, where would it end? What kind of raunchy effing flow fest had I gotten myself into here?!?! To be honest, this private sleuther had no freaking clue anymore. But boy, did I have one hot doozey of a lead goin’! Golly gee willickers with quadruple the sprinkles on top sideways – no one gave a darn hoot anymore. In case you didn’t get that – no fucks were given. No, not even a single fuck. “What about a half a fuck?” you ask. “Surely a fuck divided by two was given?” NOOOOO – not even half a freakin’ fuck for fuckity sake ya big silly fuck! Indubitably, any inclinations of idleness in this group had been undressed in real time. Any last vestiges of anxiety from within our circle had melted, transforming into a rally cry. The once reserved “let’s feel each other out” taint tickle had become a “balls to the wall” vortex of swirling sound and fury!

Lo and behold, there was the Naked Girl effervescent and bubbly as all get out, right in the thick of the filthy fold. The grand marshal at the heart of this freakshow parade. That girl had been jukin’ and jivin’ and be-boppin’ and boob-floppin’ all over the mofo throughout the entire affair. Keepin’ that nasty rhythmic undercurrent roaring stout and steady. Stirrin’ the pot so every conceivable corner had just enough room to breathe in this makeshift sweat lodge. Because the gooey cosmic cream had risen to the top and it was bursting at the seams. Ohhhhh, it was just so fucking gooooo-eeeeeeey too!

But had we reached the high water mark? I had no freaking clue, people! What do I look like, a nefarious sailor boy? Geez Louise, not even freaking Carmen Sandiego and Columbo could’ve cracked the code on this case! If ever there was a place to be anywhere in the universe at this very moment though, that god forsaken fake Indian gift shop was sure as golly fuck it. We were thoroughly enjoying each other’s presence. Enjoying each other’s streams of awesomeness. This was a trust fall for the foolish. A support group for the weird. We were one big steam engine of absurdity roaring down the tracks. It was like, “Ohhhh, you want more choo-choo train!?!?” Boom-shaka-laka – let’s all be one steely locomotive of inhibition annihilation!

Gee willickers, it wouldn’t have surprised me one bit if every nano-particle of meaningful substance goo I’d encountered got in on this hot and steamy sing-along jamboree madness. The intense magnetism could surely pull in just about everything under the golly heck sun known to be good and true. I bet we could assemble quite a rag-tag choir of the human spirit for the ages if we wanted to. Unwaveringly willing itself to be heard in the darkest of nights. COME ALL YE FAITHFUL INDEED!

On, come mermaids, come Sweaty Geometry Wizards, come Dancer and Prancer! On, come Garfield, Wildlight and talking Marshmallows! On, come Dasher, come Comet and Erothyme and Jupiter and the Giggle and the infinity dick draw-ring bandit! Damn it, let’s even throw in Pinchbeck’s think-tank biker gang and all them precious lil pirate acro-Nancy’s while we’re at it! On, come Cupid and Vixen and that mountain lion I shared a Fruit Roll-up with and Alf and, and, and how could I ever forget Kanye and his solid gold Sharts? Sweet Yeezus, the Kanye Sharts! Fucking indubitable, that crazy nonsensical-ass shit! That’s right – everyone and anyone! Anyone and everyone! You best hop your goofy ass on board right goddamn now before it’s too late! Cuz this train was comin’ right around the bend! And I ain’t gonna lie – it felt pretty darn right and pretty damn amazing. It sure gave me goosebumps in all sorts of strange places. And it did – for everyone. WE HAD COME ALIVE, BITCHES!

Maybe I’m going out on a hot detective limb for like the zillionth time here, but I think it was safe to say the Naked Girl had created the experience everyone was partaking in. Nooooooo, you don’t say? I totally do say though! I do! I do! And it ultimately didn’t make a damn bit of difference whether she was fully exposed to the world or not. This was her space just as much as anyone’s. This girl was one of us, damn it!

Being right in tune with it all, just as we had built this wacky exploration in spontaneous noise through the roof, the time was right to bring this glorious beast doooooowwwwwn. Right on down from funky town. Nice and easy. One big unified exhaaaaaaaaale. Ahhhhhhhhh yeahhhhhhh baby. Yeahhhh, right there. That’s the spot. Oh yes, I think we might’ve just officially crossed that not-so-scary-and-spooky-after-all “Bridge to Anywhere.” The Naked Girl had unabashedly finished off that oh-so-filthy, dirty deed of filthiness and taken us heathen banshees alllllllllll theeeeee waaaaaay acrossssssss. Ohhhh geeeeez, nobody said there would be goosebumps on the other side! Ok, and lollipops too!

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copyright of test subject

Of course everyone whooped and hollered and cheered and stuffs. I mean, that would’ve been kind of a dick move not to, right? As we expressed our gratitude to the Naked Girl and each other, I figured she’d surely be on her merry way. Her work was done here. Now the wind could keep blowin’ her happy bare ass wherever. I think it was safe to say she wouldn’t be putting her clothes on anytime soon. Now why would you want to do a thing like that? Turning to address the entire circle, she had quite the radiant smile beaming from inside her wacky naked being. “Thank you all for being amazing co-creators!” she exclaimed. She curtsied and then bid us adieu, casually drifting off back into the fields of Avalon. “Look at how happy she is!” said The Fein. Ohhhh yeah, that woman was indeed quite the fearlessly freaky beacon of all things happiness alright. One of those goddang paradigm shifter-majiggers I keep hearing about. Ain’t nothin’ gonna stop her. It’s like, “Hey Naked Girl, you’re fuckin’ awesome, don’t you dare change a damn thing now, ya hear!!!!”

At that point I looked at whoever was standing next to me in awe. “What the sam-heck just happened here? I mean, was that gal even real?” Come to think of it, she never really introduced herself. No one knew her name. I’m still not sure if she wasn’t some serendipity fairy. Or maybe just a phantom. A fascinating idea in pure formation presenting itself to whomever was willing to take it on. Nevertheless, she must’ve been on a mission to conquer as many filthy workshops as possible that afternoon. To wreak havoc on everyone’s precious little sensibilities. Boy oh boy, I don’t care how far of a hot detective limb I’m out on right now because gosh darn it – that woman was my hero! She deserved to have her own G.I. Joe action figure – kung fu grip, flower pasties and all. Maybe instead of her own Fun Zone Sauce All-Star trading card, she gets her own damn series!

In the grand scheme of things, I’d reckon to say we all embraced how the Naked Girl was owning whatever truth she knew to be hers. And the fact she’d moseyed into the circle from out of nowhere only to carry us right into this crazy, life-affirming crescendo, reinforced the weight of it all. Quite heavily. Oh boy, I had no idea naked people were capable of doing such things either! I guess ya learn something everyday don’tcha? You know, I actually once heard a certain front man of a certain hipster rockabilly ensemble band talk about that truth once. No, not Kanye. Not Kimye. Not Shartye. No, not even Corey Feldman either. I know, those are all real toughies to swallow, right?! Anyways, so this certain performer person talked about how when onstage, there’s always a choice he’s presented with. You can either back away from the truth, only to be left suffering up there for everyone to see. Or you can confront it head on and come alive! Well, the Naked girl had made the truth her bitch. She had led the charge for us. Leading by example, both her and The Jessica Fein (an All-Star in her own right) had essentially given us permission for our own weirdo truths to emerge – together. Exposed for everyone to see and revel in. We were able to witness and engage firsthand in some kooky kinda empowerment. “Oh, you mean that can be done?” “Oh, you mean I can feel like this?”

But you know what, maybe this highly evolved, superhuman festival business was just too much to freakin’ handle. Indeed, these Transcendental-sofa-loveseat-recliner-sectionals did have quite a few moving parts, if I do say so myself. Quite…a…few. Whoooo-eeeeee, I’m getting all sorts of spun around just trying to piece together every fragment of filthy miscreant barcalounger minutiae. Especially considering my curiosity had never in my life been lured right out of its fun bag like it had during this action-packed fun zone sauce adventure from another freakin’ galaxy. Like tell me something I don’t know!

But get this – I feel like there’s just gotta be more welllllllll beneath the silly ole surface here, folks. For there comes a time when a private truth dick must answer the calling and – dare I say – think for himself! Ohhhhhhhhh sweet golly noooooooooooo! Which is why I just can’t hold any of the disgustingly, raunchy truth inside anymore. There’s this wacky burning sensation to take it wherever it wants to go. But what exactly is “it”? And just where will “it” want to go? And what will “it” want to do once it gets out there? Soooooooo, so very many questions.

However, when you really get down to the filthy bottom of “it,” perhaps the most important ponderance of them all – will I ever be the same again? Oh boy, talk about a real toughie! Too soon, I tell ya. Too soooooooooon! Wheeeeeeeeeeew! Maybe it’s just me, but I’m pretty gosh darn sure I’ve passed through a couple hundred wormholes at this point. Even though I lost official count a long, long time ago – one way or a golly heck ‘nother – there was no going back now!

It sure was a good thing I brought my portable truth lab along for the ride. You know, the super duper special kind that can travel across multiple dimension portals and stuffs. So while I’m gettin’ that set up, you guys might wanna throw on a few layers of protective body armor spandex of your own. Panty scarf optional. And you definitely should keep a designer garden hose handy for decontamination purposes. Cuz next week I’m going to unleash the oh-so-filthy truth on ya. And I can’t guarantee there will be any lollipops on the other side…

 

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JOIN US FOR NEXT WEEK’S BLISSFUL IDIOT EPISODE: “THE OH-SO-FILTHY TRUTH – PT. 1″

 

 

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