fandomhigh | Something something careers or something [Period 1, Friday]

Today when the class met in the Danger Shop (or "mindfuck room," as Cheryl had insisted on continuing to call it), they were met with what appeared to be a large open field with sparse grass, a fairly significant number of RVs, the faint sound of music off in the distance, and lots -- lots -- of people with long hair who smelled sort of earthy.

Welcome to a Grateful Dead concert, kids.

"That weed you smell is just a smell, not the real stuff," Cheryl greeted them. "Before you get excited and try to buy some or run to tell on us or something."

“Totally fake,” Pam agreed, blowing a smoke ring. What? The weed smell was fake, but Pammy brought her own stash. “So we were trying to figure out what the hell else you guys might be qualified for, and I’ll be real honest, there’s not a whole lot out there.”

Look, they went to school here. Clearly academia was not anyone’s strong suit.

"I mean, be glad we're not going with my suggestion," Cheryl told them. She looked around for a moment, expectantly, and then helpfully added, "Test subjects."

Thanks, Cheryl.

"So instead, you're gonna find out what it's like to be the grungiest, dirtiest kind of hippie-turned-groupie: a Deadhead." She gestured behind her, to where one of the existing hobos-slash-music-fans was smoking a joint and apparently reading Tarot.

“Deadhead is not technically an occupation, what with it not paying jack shit, but it’s a full time job for most of these stoners,” said Pam. “And while you save money on not having a house or ever washing your clothes, I mean, you’re probably still paying off the RV, and weed’s not cheap unless you’re smoking the really awful stuff, and at that point why bother?”

Skunk weed really shouldn’t count as weed, you guys. Important life lessons here.

"At least lace it with something." NO, CHERYL. "Anyway. You'll need to fit in, so." She pointed towards a washtub, squirt bottles with liquid dye, and a bunch of white tee-shirts. "Tie-dye some shit. If you don't know how to tie-dye, listen to the fucking words I just used and figure out what tie-dying is. It's in the name."

(There were directions posted over there, all the same.)

"Once you have your little outfit together, figure out your occupation. Are you going to sell weed? How about do card tricks? Maybe you'll just couch-surf? Come up with a reasonable way to survive while following a dirty band around the country -- which, by the way, means you have to have some income for concert tickets -- and share with the class."

“Offer to align people’s auras,” Pam offered. “Or make really ugly jewelry out of rubber bands and shit. Use your imagination!”

The world was your oyster, kids. So long as those oysters were stoned at a Grateful Dead concert.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

With your favorite icon.

I'm just not.

There were instructions (http://www.instructables.com/id/How-to-tie-dye-an-old-white-shirt-or-a-new-shirt-/), don't worry. And we're gonna handwave that they're dry enough for you kiddos to wear after, because I didn't think of that until just now, lalala.

After observing the environment and putting on the proper attire, how do you think you'd fit in here?

Cheryl, for her part, was doing some macrame.

When in Rome, and all that.

This is what happens when Relly and I have both had weird days. Be glad it wasn't Juggalos instead.

(And I don't believe either of them is mood-crystalling, either, I think they're just like that.)

Barry Ween

Barry was in a calm serene state today. No idea why. ~~Crystals~~ So the whole tie-dye and mellow career state seemed like a good idea.

"I've decided I'm just going to sit around and make friendship bracelets, dude," Barry said leaning calmly back in his chair. "And make them from hemp. Hemp fucking rules."

"Hemp does fucking rule," Cheryl agreed thoughtfully. "It's kinda scratchy, though."

"Maybe I could create a new breed of plant that's half hemp, half cotton," Barry said idly sliding down in his chair to a more relaxed position. "All the wonders of hemp. But Cotton. That'd be fucking awesome dude."

Anders

"I'd put on a magic show for donations," Anders suggested. "It could just be parlor tricks, really. Electrity and things. It doesn't seem like this crowd would be hard to impress into giving me coins."

Kathy Li

The fuck was this shit? Kathy had signed up for a real and legitimate course, not some impossible bullshittery like this. From a drug mule to a goddamn hippy, it was like they had listened in to her mother's direst warnings about what would happen if he hooked up with a boy from 'the wrong parts of town.'

Of course, that was code for 'her parents were kinda racist' which just made Kathy that much more irrationally angry.

Kathy looked at her tie-dyed shirt and sneered. It looked stupid as hell. Which was fitting because what about this assignment wasn't stupid?

"I wouldn't," Kathy said shortly. "I like bathing and laundry and actually contributing to society. Forget this place and it's crappy music."

Something something careers or something [Period 1, Friday]

Sign in [05/23]

Listen to the...I'm not calling it a lecture. [05/22]

Tie-Dye! [05/23]

Tell us about your Deadhead career! [05/23]

Talk to Cheryl and Pam [05/23]

OOC [05/23]

Re: Sign in [05/23]

Re: Tie-Dye! [05/23]

Re: Tell us about your Deadhead career! [05/23]

Re: Tell us about your Deadhead career! [05/23]

Re: Tell us about your Deadhead career! [05/23]

Re: Sign in [05/23]

Re: Tell us about your Deadhead career! [05/23]

Re: Sign in [05/23]

Re: Listen to the...I'm not calling it a lecture. [05/22]

Re: Tie-Dye! [05/23]

Re: Tell us about your Deadhead career! [05/23]