ID Number: 1061 From: dlt4tape <no_reply@yahoogroups.com>
Subject: Re: Story telling time
Date: Wednesday, July 16 2003 - 00:24:58
Whoaaa... gnarly story dude..
-Hulbert
--- In lisamarie@yahoogroups.com, strait_flush5 <no_reply@y...> wrote:
> As many of Lisa's fans know, she once played a stripper in one of
her
> movies ("Glass Cage" I think it was). This is the story of Lisa's
> first visit to a strip club.
>
> Several years ago, Lisa was heavily involved with a guy named
> Hulbert. Hulbert was the typical, Southern-California, surfer-
dude,
> who even spoke with the same, stereotypical surfer cliches that
> people who live outside of California hear surfers speak on movies
or
> TV. Hulbert was young and vibrant, tall, muscular, with curly
blonde
> hair and a penchant for those activities that would someday
> become "Extreme Sports." Hulbert was also very self-assured, to
the
> point of being cocky - even arrogant. Hulbert didn't run much
> outside his circle of beach-buddies and wave-riders, so he rarely
had
> any inkling of how his brusque, self-centered style handicapped his
> social skills. On the contrary, for an avid surfer, his over-
> confidence was an asset when attacking the big waves.
>
> At that time, Lisa was early in her college career, and had not yet
> been persuaded to send those life-changing photos of herself
wearing
> a yellow bikini to Playboy. She was still very young and naive,
> innocent from the experiences of hardship and loss that every
person
> endures in life and that serve to season and mature a teen-ager
into
> an adult.
>
> Lisa saw her and Hulbert's relationship through fairy-tale eyes.
> Hulbert saw Lisa as a nice piece of ass. Lisa would sit in her
> college calculus classes, gazing out the window at the beautiful
> California sun, day-dreaming about her "Precious" (that's what she
> called him - any similarity with Gollum in "The Lord of the Rings"
is
> purely coincidental). Rather than finding the roots for the
> polynomial equation the teaching assistant was dutifully scrawling
on
> the blackboard, Lisa would scrawl different combinations of her
first
> and middle name with Hulbert's last. Lisa Braithewaite, Lisa Marie
> Braithewaite, Mrs. Hulbert Braithwaite... The bottom half of her
> page had the names of her and Hulbert's imaginary children.
> Montgomery Applebottom Braithwaite, Horatio Jacques Braithwaite,
> Beatrice Amelia Braithwaite, Rosacea Viola Braithewaite.
>
> Lisa tried to imagine what Hulbert was doing right at that moment.
> Maybe he was busy paddling out - thinking of her as he scanned for
> his next ride. Maybe he was resting on the beach for a moment,
> working on his beautiful tan, and thinking of her. Maybe, she
> thought, they were both gazing at that cloud that looked curiously
> like a wedding cake, right at that same moment. It's probably
> fortunate that Lisa could not know the truth of what Hulbert was
> doing right at that moment - smelling day-old salmon steaks while
> masturbating to publicity photos of Darryl Hannah from the
> movie "Splash" - maybe it would have been better had Lisa learned
the
> truth earlier on.
>
> Lisa loved Hulbert, and so she turned a blind eye to his self-
> centered cockiness, and his intrusive fascination with mermaids.
As
> the weeks wore on, however, Lisa began to feel restless.
>
> "Hulbert?" she asked one day while the two of them sat on the
couch
> watching "The Little Mermaid" for about the 100th time.
>
> "What Fish." Hulbert said dryly. "Fish" is what he called her.
> Lisa thought it was a strange pet-name, and that it probably had
some
> crass reference to the smell of fish, but she endured it - all for
> Hulbert.
>
> "Would you like some of my popcorn? I'm getting kind of full."
>
> "I've got my sardines, Fish" he said with an edge of
> annoyance. "Quiet now - she's fighting the shark."
>
> "Precious, I'm feeling a little frisky. Let's turn this off and go
> into the bedroom" she said.
>
> "Oh, what a nice piece of tail Ariel has!!!" Hulbert said, ignoring
> Lisa and wondering again what the cartoon character looked like
under
> those clam shells.
>
> "Hulbert, Precious, listen to me. I haven't felt like a real woman
> for quite a long time. I want you to make me feel that way again."
>
> "Okay, Okay... will you put on the outfit?"
>
> "No, Hulbert... I want to feel like a real woman... not a fish"
>
> "C'mon... you know you're my little Fish."
>
> "No, Hulbert" she replied emphatically. "I want to feel like a
real
> *woman* this time."
>
> Hulbert looked at her with a mischievious gleam in his eye. Lisa
> felt that she was finally getting through to him. Hulbert started
> unbuttoning his shirt.
>
> "A real woman, huh?" he said.
>
> "Yes, a real woman, Hulbert."
>
> Hulbert turned back to the movie while he handed Lisa his shirt and
> replied "fine... go iron this."
>
> It was two weeks later, and Lisa's friends were growing concerned.
> She had been so depressed since she had a fight and broke-up with
> that louse Hulbert. Just yesterday, Helen, Lisa's classmate in
> calculus, reached across Lisa's lap to retrieve her graphing
> calculator out of the glove compartment. One of Lisa's homework
> assignments with the names of the Braithewaite children fell out,
and
> Lisa burst out into sobs "Damn this warm, mammalian blood of mine!"
> she cried. Helen knew she had to do something quick.
>
> So, Helen and Serena took Lisa shopping for shoes. There was a
sale
> going on at Galaxy of Shoes - free laces with the purchase of every
> pair of slip-ons. Serena loved to flirt with the pock-marked,
brace-
> faced kid who worked the counter. Helen was so excited by all of
the
> pastel colors of moon-boots, she nearly fell into a lump of giddy
> convulsions right in the middle of the aisle. Andrew, the skinny
kid
> who manned the register and who was completely enraptured with
Serena
> and her lazy eye, had suggested to the manager that he order moon-
> boots, warm Southern-California weather notwithstanding. As it
turns
> out, with Helen and her credit cards, that was a strategic business
> move of unusual acumen coming from a High School Junior.
>
> Lisa, however, was not impressed. She was quickly lost in the
20,000
> Sq Foot store, crammed full of shelves full of shoes, some with
> laces, some without. Within minutes, Lisa had slipped out the side
> door, to find herself in an alley. There was an intensive,
> intoxicating beat coming from the building next door.
>
> "I wonder what kind of a place this is?" she thought to herself.
She
> walked around to the store front, and looked up at the sign.
>
> "First National Bank of California" it said. Strange music to be
> coming from a bank, she thought. She walked around to the back of
> the building.
>
> After quickly investigating, she discovered that the business that
> adjoined the bank was a strip club called "Hypoerotic Hogtied
Hippos."
>
> "They must not realize that the "Hypo-" prefix means "under or
below"
> as in Hypodermic needle, and the the prefix "Hyper-" means "above,
> over, or beyond" as in "Hyperactive Disorder" she thought to
> herself. Thinking this could turn into a mildly entertaining
> distraction from the paramedics responding to an epileptic seizure
at
> Galaxy of Shoes, she went in.
>
> The business lobby was painted almost entirely in garish pink and
> black. Lisa surmised that the unusual name for the club was at
least
> partially derived from the artificial habitat for a pygmy-
> hippopotamus that occupied a large part of the lobby space. A
> receptionist was seated behind a desk in front of a curtain of
> beads. The incessant pounding of the music came through that
> opening, as if some sadistic drummer were beating on Lisa's temples
> with a mallot. She began to feel nauseous, as if her head were
stuck
> in a Tuba of a marching band as it paraded down the street.
>
> "It's five dollars to get in, sweetie, or are you in the right
> place?" the receptionist asked sarcastically as she was intently
> filing and painting her fingernails.
>
> "Yeah, I'd like to go in" Lisa said, pulling 4 dollar bills, a
> quarter, 5 dimes, 4 nickels, and 7 pennies out of her pocket. The
> receptionist just plopped the two extra pennies into the "Take a
> penny, Leave a penny" cup on her desk.
>
> "One more thing, sweetie" she said. "You have to feed the hippos
> first."
>
> Lisa thought that sounded a little strange, a customer having to
feed
> a business establishment's pet/mascot before being allowed to
enter,
> but since she had never been to a strip club before, and not
wanting
> to appear silly, she said "Okay."
>
> "Here" the receptionist said, handing Lisa a small bucket filled
with
> cabbage. "Just dump this over the side, and you can go in"
>
> Lisa looked at the bucket full of low-grade vegetables, and in her
> minds eye, the wilted leafs became dead fish. With relish and
> uncommon vitriol, she tossed the contents of the bucket over the
> railing into the hippo-habitat, and in a great moment of cathartic
> expiation, let out a virile scream.
>
> "My goodness, honey... if you like feeding hippos that much, maybe
we
> should get you a job here."
>
> "Thanks, sweetie," Lisa said with newfound life and vigor, "but
I'll
> just go inside now."
>
> "Don't let me stand in your way, sweetie" the receptionist said,
and
> returned to filing her nails.
>
> The main dance hall was very dark, and it took a moment for Lisa's
> eyes to adjust. After a few seconds of standing under the entryway
> arch, Lisa began to move through the tables and chairs arranged in
> front of the main stage. A couple of pool tables were sitting
unused
> off in alcoves to her right. On her left was a bar, situtated atop
a
> dais a couple of steps above the main floor. The stage was
straight
> ahead, and she could see a dancer mostly undressed, wriggling and
> swaying around a firepole. There were about 10 or 20 men seated
> individually at the bar, at tables, or at the stage. Each man
> appeared to be alone, and was mesmerized by the action on stage. A
> few waitresses moved among the male patrons, and Lisa guessed it
must
> be pirate night, because each of the waitresses was dressed as a
> pirate.
>
> Lisa took a seat at an unoccupied table, leaving a buffer zone of
two
> or three tables between herself and any of the other patrons.
> Despite the liberating experience of produce and miniaturized
> amphibians (possibly the result of a cloning project gone awry) of
> just a few moments before, the men in the room gave her the
creeps.
> She found, however, that her position did not afford her a very
good
> vantage point for the stage, and since Lisa is a dancer by trade,
she
> was understandably curious. So when the current dancer was
finished,
> she got up and moved closer. She took a seat at the foot of the
> stage, and waited for the next pirate lady to appear.
>
> After only a minute but what seemed like an hour, the next act
> appeared. As it happened, it was two women - one with a red-
bandana
> skull-cap and black and white sailor shirt, the other dressed like
a
> pirate captain, complete with eye-patch and peg-leg. The women
began
> their strip routine, and Lisa soon realized the the pirate
captain's
> peg-leg was not a prop, but that the woman was an actual amputee.
>
> "Wow" Lisa, thought. "She can really dance with that stump. I
> wonder if they make toe-shoes that fit tree-branches?"
>
> After the first song, both women were nearly naked. The captain
was
> on all threes, working a group of entranced and salivating men at
the
> other end of the bar. Red came slinking toward Lisa. She began
> bobbing and thrusting her pelvis approximately 19 inches from
Lisa's
> face, and Lisa was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable. Then,
> looking at the captain, she realized that this dance move, while
> never one that Lisa had learned in her ballet experience, was
> evidentally a code for "stuff some dollars in my G-string."
>
> Undaunted by this being her first experience, Lisa pulled out a
> Sacajewea dollar coin, and, hand shaking ever so slightly, reached
> out toward the pirate-stripper. She slipped the coin under the
> dancer's waistband, but it promptly fell out. The dancer's
gyrating
> continued unabated. Lisa reached out under the dancer, and picked
> the coin up. She tried to slip it into the dancer's G-string
again,
> but the motion of her hips was so violent, the coin fell again, and
> rolled on it's edge further back on the stage.
>
> Lisa stood up, and reached under and behind the dancer to get her
> dollar coin. It was just beyond her fingertip's reach, and
realizing
> her predicament had little hope, Lisa sat back down.
>
> Just at that moment, Serena came bursting into the club.
>
> "Lisa, there you are! Helen maxed out two of her credit cards on
> moonboots. I finally carried her out to the car, and she's waiting
> there, breathing into a paper bag. What are you doing here?"
>
> "Oh, Serena, it was wonderful. I fed Hulbert to the pygmy-hippos,
> and I feel so much better now."
>
> "Really? Won't there by charges?" asked Serena, incredulously.
>
> "No, I didn't really feed Hulbert to hippos, but in a sort of
> symbolic way." Lisa said. "And what's more, I think I want to be
a
> pirate."
>
> "Well, I'm glad you're feeling better, now, Lisa. Let's go home
now."
>
> And so, they did.
>
> Helen and Lisa stopped hanging out after two semesters of calculus,
> and Lisa was secretly glad. She just couldn't get used to moon-
boots
> on a southern-California campus. Lisa never became a pirate,
> although she and Serena rented a boat during semester break,
captured
> Hulbert, made him walk the plank, and left him about 50 miles
> offshore. And Serena went on to become a nuclear physicist.
>
> And that's the story of how pygmy-hippopatamuses came to invade the
> California bio-sphere.
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