10-07-2015, 02:51 PM
That was a rough 48+ hours. A lot happened. Next year, I must make more space for this extraordinary event.
Before Dm got there, there was a male IPR that pissed and crapped all over himself. A 'code brown' as we say. Fortunately Dm did NOT have to deal with this, but he was told after that when that IPR came to, he said 'woah, I pissed and shit all over myself? Yes! Best trip eva!!' Alas, kids today...
DM's helped female IPR who said she felt worse than she ever did in her life. She was with her bf, and DM helped carry her into the tent. She was in dry heaves. The nooB RMers were really curious if it was Molly or Alice. As Dm went down the standard list of intake questions, there was a pause after she denied being on any medications. Her bf said 'Oh, don't forget the antibiotics your on for strep' and then aside to Dm 'she has strep.' WTF! Who the hell comes to a festival with strep? Oh let's bring the plague to the party. That'll be fun. DM abandoned those patients to wash up again, this time in disinfectant. The RM nooBs still wanted to know if it was Molly or Alice. Dm said 'It's the strep. :roll:'
Bountiful doesn't begin to describe the numerous topless ladies. Symb10sis - well srsly, all of the veteran RM guys (and by veteran RM, I mean vols that have been doing festivals for the last half decade, not real vets like old DM - but they would've surely concurred) were noting how the quality of toplessness was way above the bar. Nowadays, when there's a lot of nudity, maybe 50% of the toplessness is stuff you really want to see. At symb10sis, it was closer to 90%, with 50% being top shelf. Dm made a significant addition to his donation rap just for this fest. It now goes as so:
DM "It's all free but we do accept donations.....any kynd of donations!"
Patron (raising eyebrow) "Any kynd?"
DM "We like it green."
Added line if there are topless nachettes slathering sunscreen on their bodaciousness:
"Topless ladies be free!"
Soon after Dm dropped his donation rap on two perky topless ladies (not friends, just at table service at the same time). One shimmied back saying 'Enjoy your boob time, guys!'
Dm luvs workin table service. It's grown to be his favorite task with Rm after wrasslin nekkid IPRs.
There was an outbreak of fire ants. Numerous patrons came in with bites. One female came in who had been bitten all over her breasts. She showed them to Dm in a very medical fashion, as if he was a doctor or something. Dm restrained his urge to offer to apply sting reducing ointment.
There were also leeches in some parts of the lake. This prevented Dm from swimming.
The most DMish episode began innocently with a young lady in a shirt that looked like pizza toppings helping her dreadlock friend who cut his thumb badly on a can. He needed stitches. Later, Dm was called way out to the badlands, the outskirts of the camping, which was well over a mile from the entrance. A group claimed to have been dosed by some wandering doser, but dm suspected that was just an excuse. Whatev. It was a large camp with plenty of concerned friends. Two male IPRs were in one tent having the best time ever. Srsly, their faces must have been sore the next day from grinning so damn much. Two other male IPRs were in another tent having less fun, but they couldn't manage to get up so they just lay there and moaned. Then there was the one female IPR, a lovely lady with an Australian accent wearing only a string bikini bottom and red heart pasties. She was very agitated, knowing she was dosed, but in that ADHD stage of the trip and couldn't manage to sit still. Note that there were several female friends helping to bumper car her to safety. She kept wanting group hugs. The pizza-shirt gal and stiched-thumb dread show up and are like 'WTF?' Turns out this is their camp and their friends. Dm turned to the pizza-shirt gal and says 'I wanna hang with you. You know how to party, gul!' She laughs. The Oz heart-pasties gal wants to pee, but she can't focus. Then the pizza-shirt gal sez 'the diaper! let's put her in the diaper!' As it turned out, this camp had brought some adult diapers as a sort of party joke. The girl friends of the Oz heart-pasties gal discreetly outfitted her and as the camp seemed to have things as much under control as could be, Dm and his crew moved on. Later, dm ran into the pizza-shirt gal and she thanked him profusely, reporting that everyone was okay.
One sad note. There's nothing more chilling than a code blue call. Dm heard in on the radio while on another call. As a team responded, dm sort of denied it, but then by accident, wound up walking to the scene thinking he was going to check out a DJ. He got pulled in for crowd control. A middle-aged man went into his tent and never woke up. Could have been drugs. Could have been something else. Never heard. Dm talked to the son briefly - the whole family was there. It was tragic. Dm did not see the body, but helped with the debriefing of the Rm crew who was on scene later.
All that being said, Dm did get out quite a bit to take in some DJ acts, art installations and performances. It was a mind-blowing event on many levels. Dm wasn't even able to track the music. He took over the annex during the days, which had a lovely view of the lake. There was this Rm nooB giantess, a take-no-crap EMT, that somehow was hooked up with dm and master puga (note that both dm and master puga are happily married card-holding members of the Jedi Nite Krew). She was just shy of 6ft tall, long stride, and eager to play. She had a few beers, timidly because she didn't want to appear irresponsible (much to dm/puga's amusemment as they were both sporting highly illegal bloodstreams at the time) but slowly loosened up at the evening wore on until she was dancing like a madwomen. At one point she squealed "I'm drinking with the Jedi!!!" as if she had achieved some noteworthy goal
Before Dm got there, there was a male IPR that pissed and crapped all over himself. A 'code brown' as we say. Fortunately Dm did NOT have to deal with this, but he was told after that when that IPR came to, he said 'woah, I pissed and shit all over myself? Yes! Best trip eva!!' Alas, kids today...
DM's helped female IPR who said she felt worse than she ever did in her life. She was with her bf, and DM helped carry her into the tent. She was in dry heaves. The nooB RMers were really curious if it was Molly or Alice. As Dm went down the standard list of intake questions, there was a pause after she denied being on any medications. Her bf said 'Oh, don't forget the antibiotics your on for strep' and then aside to Dm 'she has strep.' WTF! Who the hell comes to a festival with strep? Oh let's bring the plague to the party. That'll be fun. DM abandoned those patients to wash up again, this time in disinfectant. The RM nooBs still wanted to know if it was Molly or Alice. Dm said 'It's the strep. :roll:'
Bountiful doesn't begin to describe the numerous topless ladies. Symb10sis - well srsly, all of the veteran RM guys (and by veteran RM, I mean vols that have been doing festivals for the last half decade, not real vets like old DM - but they would've surely concurred) were noting how the quality of toplessness was way above the bar. Nowadays, when there's a lot of nudity, maybe 50% of the toplessness is stuff you really want to see. At symb10sis, it was closer to 90%, with 50% being top shelf. Dm made a significant addition to his donation rap just for this fest. It now goes as so:
DM "It's all free but we do accept donations.....any kynd of donations!"
Patron (raising eyebrow) "Any kynd?"
DM "We like it green."
Added line if there are topless nachettes slathering sunscreen on their bodaciousness:
"Topless ladies be free!"
Soon after Dm dropped his donation rap on two perky topless ladies (not friends, just at table service at the same time). One shimmied back saying 'Enjoy your boob time, guys!'
Dm luvs workin table service. It's grown to be his favorite task with Rm after wrasslin nekkid IPRs.
There was an outbreak of fire ants. Numerous patrons came in with bites. One female came in who had been bitten all over her breasts. She showed them to Dm in a very medical fashion, as if he was a doctor or something. Dm restrained his urge to offer to apply sting reducing ointment.
There were also leeches in some parts of the lake. This prevented Dm from swimming.
The most DMish episode began innocently with a young lady in a shirt that looked like pizza toppings helping her dreadlock friend who cut his thumb badly on a can. He needed stitches. Later, Dm was called way out to the badlands, the outskirts of the camping, which was well over a mile from the entrance. A group claimed to have been dosed by some wandering doser, but dm suspected that was just an excuse. Whatev. It was a large camp with plenty of concerned friends. Two male IPRs were in one tent having the best time ever. Srsly, their faces must have been sore the next day from grinning so damn much. Two other male IPRs were in another tent having less fun, but they couldn't manage to get up so they just lay there and moaned. Then there was the one female IPR, a lovely lady with an Australian accent wearing only a string bikini bottom and red heart pasties. She was very agitated, knowing she was dosed, but in that ADHD stage of the trip and couldn't manage to sit still. Note that there were several female friends helping to bumper car her to safety. She kept wanting group hugs. The pizza-shirt gal and stiched-thumb dread show up and are like 'WTF?' Turns out this is their camp and their friends. Dm turned to the pizza-shirt gal and says 'I wanna hang with you. You know how to party, gul!' She laughs. The Oz heart-pasties gal wants to pee, but she can't focus. Then the pizza-shirt gal sez 'the diaper! let's put her in the diaper!' As it turned out, this camp had brought some adult diapers as a sort of party joke. The girl friends of the Oz heart-pasties gal discreetly outfitted her and as the camp seemed to have things as much under control as could be, Dm and his crew moved on. Later, dm ran into the pizza-shirt gal and she thanked him profusely, reporting that everyone was okay.
One sad note. There's nothing more chilling than a code blue call. Dm heard in on the radio while on another call. As a team responded, dm sort of denied it, but then by accident, wound up walking to the scene thinking he was going to check out a DJ. He got pulled in for crowd control. A middle-aged man went into his tent and never woke up. Could have been drugs. Could have been something else. Never heard. Dm talked to the son briefly - the whole family was there. It was tragic. Dm did not see the body, but helped with the debriefing of the Rm crew who was on scene later.
All that being said, Dm did get out quite a bit to take in some DJ acts, art installations and performances. It was a mind-blowing event on many levels. Dm wasn't even able to track the music. He took over the annex during the days, which had a lovely view of the lake. There was this Rm nooB giantess, a take-no-crap EMT, that somehow was hooked up with dm and master puga (note that both dm and master puga are happily married card-holding members of the Jedi Nite Krew). She was just shy of 6ft tall, long stride, and eager to play. She had a few beers, timidly because she didn't want to appear irresponsible (much to dm/puga's amusemment as they were both sporting highly illegal bloodstreams at the time) but slowly loosened up at the evening wore on until she was dancing like a madwomen. At one point she squealed "I'm drinking with the Jedi!!!" as if she had achieved some noteworthy goal
Shadow boxing the apocalypse