Wednesday, 29 February 2012

Domestic night

Not very often that I have a dream that upsets me, but the first part of my nights journey did somewhat.
I was at my family home in the kitchen, I am a child again, my younger sister and dad are also there.

My sister is giving my dad some attitude and I start to have a go at her, telling her to be respectful.
My dad then berates me for shouting at my sister and I then begin to argue with my dad. I look up and see a hole in the kitchen ceiling.

My wife then appears and says she wish that she had met my dad as he died before we met, I look puzzled as I had only just seen him in the kitchen
All really unpleasant as I can honestly say that I never once argued or fell out with my dad in his lifetime.

The next part of my dream involves a very tall man with a broken arm, he is drunk and complaining that I caused him the injury. I don't appear to be denying it and have little sympathy for him.
I notice that under his jacket he is wearing a green paramedics uniform.

Finally I enter a house just as a teenage girl is leaving and she storms off up the street.
I go in to find the teenagers Mother, Aunt and younger sister all crying. After several minutes to calm them all, I am told they have all had an argument.
The Aunts mobile phone rings and she puts it on loud speaker.
It's my friend Chris shouting 'Merry Christmas'!
It's February?

Tuesday, 28 February 2012

Squashed boy & giant rabbit

I was happily driving along the road in my car when I slowed to approach a junction. A small Asian boy about 8 years of age stepped out in front of me waving his arms in a bid to attract my attention.
As I watched him trying to alert me to something he shouted, 'please help me', all this seemed to be occurring in slow motion.
My brain registered to stop the car, sent the signal all the way to my right foot which in turn brought the car to a stop.
The trouble with slow motion is that the signal dispatched to my foot took twice as long to be received and the boy was under the car before this procedure was completed.
I got out and the boy was unfortunately squashed totally flat like a cardboard cutout with just his head inflated.

I was later in total darkness walking with my arms outstretched in front of me trying to feel my way through my house. My dog was behind me and I'm taking him to his bed in the conservatory.
When I did this earlier that evening whilst awake I put the lights on, in my slumber it doesn't seem to have occurred to me and I blindly fumble my way through the house.
Eventually I reach the conservatory and actually put the light on only to find my dogs bed occupied by a giant rabbit. When I say giant I mean 4 times bigger than a Jack Russell, which is still big.
My dog just looked on in total bemusement.

Monday, 27 February 2012

Gold thief & supermarket chaos

I begin by being presented to my supervisor Derek at his desk by my so called friend Chris. Chris has taken it upon himself to make a citizens arrest as he has found me to have stolen a lot of gold chains.
I am standing in front of Derek protesting my innocence which was fairly futile as I had more gold around my neck than Mr T.
Derek asks me if there is anything else I have and I pull out from my jacket, like Mary Poppins from her magic bag, a large blue clock on a stand that's about four feet high.

I'm next in a supermarket with my wife and a woman has a trolley full of goods but has them all in brown paper bags.
She is trying to pay for them but is holding up everyone due to her concealment of the shopping.

Over the intercom, Andy, one of my other work supervisors announces for me to stop the flow of shoppers in the aisle until this woman is dealt with.
I try and facilitate this but I'm met with angry customers intent on passing the woman.
Andy shouts in a panic over the intercom, 'Emily to aisle 5 now, we need back up!'

Sunday, 26 February 2012

Hero in a pink Porsche

My wife and I are walking along a riverbank when we see a sign for a town that is called Conise. This isn't any word that I recognise and as far as I'm aware does not exist as a town anywhere.
The river is frozen and my wife steps onto the ice. Before I can finish the sentence, 'Don't go on the.......', it cracks and she disappears beneath the ice.
I rush to the rivers edge, thrust my arm into the freezing water and find her outstretched hand. I pull her out, lay her on her back and expertly put two breaths of air into her lungs by blowing into her mouth.
A cough and splutter of water and she is fine and well and dry oddly.

We go to my car which the last time I looked a black Ford Focus but is now a pink convertible Porsche. The soft top roof however has been constructed using bamboo sticks and plastic shopping bags.
I manually open the badly made roof and we set off to the shops.

My wife drives into an underground car park and we enter a nearby shop which is selling bras. Not before I have closed the plastic roof.
All the staff in the shop are displaying the bras by wearing them, which was nice. Purchase made we return to the car and once again I have to fold the plastic roof down.

I don't recommend the manual soft top version of the Porsche, if I was to buy it I'd upgrade to the electric one. And not in pink!

Saturday, 25 February 2012

You naughty Peperami

I've had a cheeky late afternoon nap and the following events took place within my head whilst doing so.

I am walking around a house looking at it as if I'm going to buy it but it's right next to a train station, I leave and enter a huge indoor shopping complex where I discover my wife sitting in a massive line with hundreds of other people as if taking part in a World record attempt at the dance craze for the song Oops up side your head. (Gap band 1979).

I join in and sit behind my wife just as a foreign looking man with a small moustache sits in front of her. He resembles the character Walker from the 1970s TV show Dads Army but with a more Eastern European look to bring it up to date.

The Walker lookalike turns around and attempts to place his head in between my wife's legs but before he can even get close we are both punching him in the head.
I then grab hold of him with both hands and proceed to pull and reshape him into the Peperami man from the advert. I then throw him down the escalator and he lands in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Naughty Peperami, he's a bit of an animal.


Who you looking at?

I am currently sleeping during the day due to my work commitments and as usual I spend my time in a mild comatose state subduing my Brian activity somewhat.
I awoke to the sound of 10cc singing The Wall Street Shuffle a hit in 1974.

Just prior to this I was walking around a rather grand entrance hall to a big house. I am looking at all the mounted animal heads that adorn the walls.
As I scan past the antelopes, tigers and rhino I am suddenly met by my own head mounted and staring back at me.
When I did wake I was making a somewhat startled sound but it was definitely a manly startled noise and not a scared guinea pig squeal as described by my wife.

Friday, 24 February 2012

Big Brother in the toilet

Using the wonders of the modern age I am able to use a phone to make contact with both my sisters. I can see them on the screen of the phone but the view is from above as if from a CCTV camera or drone.
They are in a huge mansion, my younger sister is lazing by one of the two swimming pools and my older sister is riding a bike around the grounds.
From my phone I am able to manoeuvre the camera and watch as I chat to them.
I watch as my older sister franticly cycles out of the grounds of the mansion, into the street and hits a rubbish cart head on. She gets up, brushes herself down and continues chatting to me.

I then walk towards a toilet cubicle and notice Vince from work behind me. He is wearing a knitted roll neck jumper. He asks if my sisters are enjoying staying at his house.
I enter the cubicle followed by Vince and four other people. The doors slide closed and it becomes an elevator but the toilet is still there. I ponder briefly about using it but decide I can't with an audience.

Thursday, 23 February 2012

Stoned Red Indian & blooded hands

Lately my head is whirl of activity every night. If I was awake and as busy I'd be suffering from exhaustion.

For the initial part of my slumber I spent it chasing a purple dog ball across a frozen pond. Unable to pick it up with my teeth because it just slid across the ice as I tried to bite it. I wasn't a dog so could have just picked up by hand but instead spent hours pursuing it to no avail.

I go to my mums house to find she has been replaced with a native American Indian. Not only that, the Indian is completely stoned, smoking cannabis from a large pipe.

Next I find myself as global superstar actor George Clooney, happy with that. I'm abseiling down a building past a huge clock, one hand on the rope and the other gripping my female co star. No idea who she was but glamourous and sexy as you'd expect no less for George.
We are escaping the bad guys and making our way to the flat of our getaway driver who is actor Scott Malson, formerly of The Bill but now in Eastenders.
Upon us attending the flat, Scott isn't there but his little brother is who informs us that Scott is way out of his acting league overwhelmed by my aura and won't be helping us.
Oh well, his flat was nice.

I'm next with my wife attending an autopsy. We are gloved up and in face masks and gowns watching the pathologist perform the procedure.
I get under the sheet with the body and feel the cold legs of the deceased on my body whilst my wife watches intently at the body being cut open. The body is that of a female with long black hair, the smell from her is horrible.
I get out from under the sheet to find my hands are covered in blood as are my wife's. We both proceed to wash our hands in the kitchen sink.

I awoke at this point and after a sip of fruit juice, ( Berries & Cherries), I drifted back off to the scene of a French barn which I was attempting to buy from Graham the security guard at the Boots store in Peterborough city centre.
Graham apart from dealing with all matters security related in Boots is also a very shrewd business man as he wasn't letting the barn go for less than £34,000.
To the best of my knowledge Graham is from Essex despite his poor attempt at a French accent.

Wednesday, 22 February 2012

Yellow woman & mattress head

I was showing my friend Jo my new air rifle and unbeknown to me she happens to be a firearms expert. You think you know someone. Jo informs me that I have in fact purchased a genuine weapon that fires real bullets and I have an illegal gun. Oh dear.

I next have invited some of 'the lads' round to watch a 'Lads' film. I don't recognise any of them and they soon leave being greatly disappointed when my choice of movie turns out to be a naked woman in a bath of yellow paint.

I have left my house and I'm now running down the street as fast as I can balancing a mattress on my head. It's a single bed size as a double one would be unmanageable and just daft.
I not surprisingly bump into a few people, one of which is a skinny boy who is bare chested. He begins to protest at me so I pull a small drawing pin from my pocket and push it into his chest.
As the boy squeals in pain I punch him in the head knocking him unconscious, all whilst still balancing the mattress on my head.
I start to run again, gathering more speed as I go. Suddenly I'm on top of a large building and run straight off the edge falling to the concrete pavement below.
Fortunately, one of the benefits of carrying a mattress on your head is that it provides excellent padding should you happen to fall from a tall building.
I bounce back up, reposition my oversized head protector and continue running. As I gather more and more speed, heavy metal music plays getting louder as I run.
I look to my side and see the skinny boy running along side me, as I watch him he transforms into a skinny dog.
I run ever faster, the music gathering speed and volume, I hit a tree full on in the face and there is an explosion of leafs.
There is silence, I open my eyes to find myself in my old childhood bedroom. I climb in under the blankets and drift off to sleep.

Tuesday, 21 February 2012

Stolen pyramids and celery head

I start by being at the scene of a car crash that has three people laying injured in the road. They have minor cuts and grazes but apart from that are ok.
Despite this a very over keen member of the public is performing CPR on them. CPR is a lot easier on a non breathing person and I watch as the casualties kick and fight against being snogged.
As I watch a lorry attempts to pass and as it does hits my car and pushes it down the street.

Next I am with Franky Knuckles my supervisor from work and we are in Egypt removing bricks from the pyramids. I did question Frank but he said its fine so I carried on.

Next I am returning to my mums house and discover that I had left the doors and windows open prior to leaving.
I check the house and find someone had entered and has stolen all the VHS video tapes. I ponder this momentarily and decide they have done me a favour.

Finally I appear to have a unicorns horn sticking out of the top of my head but the wrong way round. Just along side the horn was a celery stick protruding out of my head.
I hate celery.

Monday, 20 February 2012

Gentlemans magazines and sunflower seeds

I spent ages last night searching through a large box.
Just prior to this I was pushing a purple pram. There was nothing in the pram and it was one of these new style all singing all dancing buggies. The kind that you need a degree in engineering to fold down.
Anyway back to the box. I was in what appeared to be an attic alone and the large box was in the centre of the room.
As I searched through I scooped up hand full's of black sunflower seeds. There was also an abundance of adult magazines, the kind not renowned for there literary content, lots of pictures.
I continued searching for whatever I was looking for until I was disturbed by the alarm indicating that I had to get up and therefore will never know what was at the bottom.

Sunday, 19 February 2012

In a pickle

Once again my long suffering wife has had to restrain me whilst I slept for her own safety.
The reason for this, I was dreaming that I was some pickle in a jar. Not sure but as I was brown with chunks, I'm guessing I was a Branston pickle.
I was stuck in the jar and desperately wanted out but despite all my best efforts I just couldn't escape my glass enclosure.
My frantic shouting alerted my ever vigilant spouse to some imminent arm waving and I was duly held down and awoken to the words, 'what are you doing?'

I fell back to sleep to a very relaxing time in contrast.
My long departed dad had returned home to see me, we strolled together along a golden sandy beach.
As we walked my dad was calm and comforting telling me that everything was going to be ok.
I hate pickle, more of a relish kind of guy.

Saturday, 18 February 2012

Dagenham minder & green gnomes

This starts with me discovering a small postage stamp on fire outside my mothers house in Dagenham. My mum shouts for me to phone the fire service. I run around the block to the phone box, pick up the entire box and run back to present it to my mum. She was suitably unimpressed.

Next I appear to be Terry from TV's Minder along with Arthur Daly, we are still in Dagenham.
A red car pulls up but it's just the shell of a car on wheels, we are bundled into the back and driven to an industrial estate.
Here a mad looking man holding a Stanley blade informs us that he is going to kill us. As this happens the red car ignites and is quickly engulfed in flames.
Poor Arthur unfortunately perishes in the inferno but I manage to jump on a nearby motorbike and make good my escape.

As I drive back towards my mums house I stop and meet a woman at the gate of her front garden. She is holding a paintbrush and informs me she has painted all the gnomes in the street.
Upon looking at all the gardens I can see hundreds of gnomes all coloured green.

Friday, 17 February 2012

Carrot cats & runaway train

The amazing singing talents of Adele opened my dream, with her singing, Someone like you.
My wife was feeding our two cats with carrots, whole ones with the green tops, I looked on in bemusement. As I observed I noticed an antelope in our conservatory.
My work colleague Lorney walked past with her hands cupped in Oliver Twist style begging for a coffee.

Suddenly my wife and I are in the front of a steam train and we can't stop it. It's gathering speed and is out of control. We start to race through London underground stations and all I can do is blast the whistle to warn unsuspecting passengers.
Eventually it just runs out of steam and comes to a halt conveniently in a station.

Next I can hear a house alarm and walk up to a house that its coming from there is water shooting up out of the roof. A woman approaches me from a neighbouring address and informs me that we are in Raymond Close.
She then says to me that she has one of the samurai swords from my dream of a couple of nights ago and that she gave it to her husband.
Very confused and worried that this woman is messing with my head, I make hast and run away from her.

Thursday, 16 February 2012

Showing my pink side

I went to work for my older sister last night. I turned up at the huge building in London to report for my first day at my new job.
I had no idea what the company does or what indeed my role would be, a true reflection of real life in fact.

I could hear M People singing, Search for the hero inside yourself whilst I was walking around.

Standing in the street was the entire staff from the office block as if all assembled for a fire drill.
An elderly security guard was walking around checking everyone and he stopped and starred at me.
I had draped myself in a bright pink sheet and was proudly marching up and down on the pavement.
As the security man looked on I just pronounced that I was in touch with my feminine side and continued prancing.

M People are a British house music act from Manchester, who formed in 1990 and achieved success throughout most of the 1990s. The name M People is from the initials of Mike Pickering, who formed the group.

Wednesday, 15 February 2012

Living dead & magic flower hill

For another dream I am running with Madonna, just jogging down the street side by side.
I am then in a room where a disheveled ugly looking little undertaker is preparing to take a dead woman away. She is laying on a bed, she is about 30 years old.
I leave him preparing the body and go into an adjoining room where I start to change my clothing. I am just putting a knitted hooded jumper on my legs when a man and his two sons enter the room. The man apologises and goes to leave but I say it's ok for them to enter the other room. Forgetting about the dead body I rush in before them only to see the woman sitting up in bed smiling and the undertaker cowering behind a chest of draws shaking.

Finally I am out in the countryside and watch my work colleague Stu standing at the bottom of a hill. He raises his arms like a magician.
As he does this the entire hill starts to sprout flowers. Like a time lapse film, the whole hill comes to life with with a multitude of coloured blooms.
I look on in amazement as does TV presenter Tess Daly who is standing next to me. As we see each other we hug as a greeting, Tess slips her tongue into my mouth and snogs me and then winks.
Cheeky minx.

Tuesday, 14 February 2012

I cant go if your watching!

As with a lot of my dreams, the need for me to pee transpires its self into the events of my slumber.
Last night I am in a prison cell awaiting my family to visit me. I really need the toilet so go into a very tiny cubicle in the corner of my grey four walled enclosure.
I start to pee and as always I'm thankful that I actually don't urinate as that would be most embarrassing and would most likely end my marriage.
My sister pops her head in the cubicle and says hi, I stop peeing and try and hold it. Then one by one every single member of my family starts to enter the cubicle, in resemblance to a world record attempt to see how many people can you fit into a toilet cubicle.
Still desperately needing to relieve myself I discreetly get a plastic bag from my pocket and pee into it without my family noticing.
The trouble starts when the plastic bag is full and starts to overflow!
I awoke at this point and went to the toilet. (In the toilet, not a plastic bag).

Monday, 13 February 2012

Time travelling Jackson & human bollard

I begin by meeting the youngest Jackson brother from the famous singing family. Not the late Michael but another who is about 12 years old but with the familiar microphone style hair of the 70's.
Along with a girl around the same age, I watch them both take hold of a rugby ball and jump from a first floor window. Rather than plummet to a concrete demise, they float in the air and start to go back in time, landing on the street below.
It's unclear how far back they have travelled but a lot of the buildings are not there having not yet been constructed.
They watch as people are running screaming in the street in a panic. Not wishing to find out what is going on they once again take hold of the rugby ball and float off through time. I don't see them again. Perhaps that's why no one has heard of the Jackson boy.

Next I find myself reading the local newspaper, shocked at finding lots of photos of my friend Timmy snapped sticking two fingers up at the camera whilst he is at work.
I enter a house and see two lads one of which has two samurai swords that he wants to take out in the street. I advise him against this and open a garden gate which leads to a front door that is in the living room of the house I'm in. I remove an old ladies bike and cycle around the living room.
I return the bike and leave the house once again telling the boy not to take the swords outside thinking to myself that he is going to ignore what I say and do it anyway.

As I walk down the street I see my friend Kyle he is acting loud and cocky and keeps writing huge £ signs on the floor in chalk. We pass a row of concrete bollards and I say to Kyle to stand next to them as he is very small and when he does, he turns into one of the bollards and can't be seen.



Sunday, 12 February 2012

Fat boy mugger, drunken ex wife & Madonna

What a busy night! I'll break this down a bit, there's loads.

I begin sedately playing a computer game where I am riding a horse, it's no ordinary game as it becomes interactive and the horse jumps from screen into the room.

I'm next leaving a supermarket and I'm about to get onto my motorbike when a really fat boy approaches me holding a knife, I start to shout 'Get away' and push my motorbike at him. I woke momentarily at this point but soon drifted back to sleep having for once not disturbed my wife. Incidentally I can't ride a motorbike.

I next for some obscure reason decided to allow my ex wife lodge in our spare room. She gets drunk and starts being abusive and insulting.
I punch her full on in the face knocking her out cold. Boy that felt good.

The next part of my slumber I spend as a council employee in charge of checking fly tipping behind tenants houses. I'm looking at a load of old mattresses discarded when another household starts shouting abuse from over their fence. I go over to confront them and notice that their BBQ has exploded and the house is now well ablaze. Panic ensues as frightened drunken people flee the blaze. I hear a girl screaming from within the house. I enter with no thought of my own safety and rescue said girl. I'm applauded as a hero. (hooray for me).

Next I find myself on a very thin ledge high up on the side of a building along with two very attractive females. I decide I want to get off as I'm feeling very unsteady on the flimsy ledge.
I follow one of the females who cartwheels off the ledge, I grip on for dear life and just manage to get off avoiding plummeting to certain death.
As I get off I turn into International singing star, Madonna.
We both then start to dance and sing off into the distance crossing over London Bridge.

In the final part of my busy sleep, I am attempting to buy a former village Post Office from a Chinese couple. I secure the property and convert it into a themed restaurant.
My wife and I are sitting in the old post office chatting to our manager about employing staff when we tell him we are engaged, slightly odd in that we are married. The manager shakes our hands and tells the barman to open the most expensive champagne on the menu. Cheeky sod, I own the place, that's cost me!


Saturday, 11 February 2012

Contortionist stunt driver

Initially I am in a room within a house. Right in the middle of the room is a stair rail either side of some steps descending down into the floor.
I am playing in a football match, there are a lot of people crammed into the room for the sporting event which is made all the more difficult by the stairs obstacle.
Despite this I manage to score a goal and happy with this achievement, I leave.
I exit into a school and bump into my friend Indie who shouts at me that the school is being evacuated and that I must leave. I take his advice and walk out and find myself walking down a long tree lined country road.
I look beyond a hedge and see a house moving at speed in a field. Not even blinking at this odd sight I then see a boy on a very small moped approaching me. The boy has both his arms full of boxes and is riding the moped hands free. He passes me and as he goes past he turns and looks at me, mumbles something under his breath and disappears from view.
I reach the end of the lane and find that it has become so small that just a tiny hole remains where the road vanishes into. The hole is not big enough to crawl through but I manage to contort my body by dislocating my arms and legs and squeeze in and out the other side.
On the other side I immediately find myself travelling at great speed along a road in the city of Peterborough. I am going so fast I think that I must be in a car but when I look down at my feet my legs are stationary but levitating from the floor. I gather momentum and I am approaching a traffic light junction. Ahead I can see a Hollywood film set all ready to film a scene.
Just at the precise moment I hit the junction I take off in the air as a car stunt driver flies over my head to a scene of flames and explosions.
I hear an angry cry of 'CUT' and the scene is ruined by my appearance.


Friday, 10 February 2012

UK head and roast beef farts

Rather bizarrely I appeared to have a head in the exact shape of the British Isles. This was only apparent when I fell over in the snow and the imprint left in the frozen ground was the familiar map of the UK.
I had eaten some roast beef, and was walking around in the snow. After leaving my head shaped map print I then developed wind and started to expel air from my posterior.
With each blast of wind I again managed to leave an imprint in the snow. Not UK shaped but just a random fart shape that varied dependant on the force and length of the botty burp.
Also David Grey was singing The one I love throughout my sleep.

Thursday, 9 February 2012

Ghost town

This town, ah ahhh is coming like a......... Actually no that wasn't playing in my head when I woke. I dreamt that I was wandering around in a deserted town, it was night, the streets were empty and everywhere looked as if had been devoid of life for years.
That was all I was doing, endlessly searching the grey dusty streets for any sign of human existence.
I'm sure a deep and meaningful reason can be derived from the dream, but basically it was just me walking around a town.
Ghost town by the specials was a number one hit in the UK in 1981.

Wednesday, 8 February 2012

Kiss from a Rose

The main difference between sleeping at night and during the day, which, this week I am doing, is, the level of depth at which I sleep.
I have spent the day in such a deep profound slumber that I have no visual recognition of a dream. However my internal juke box was playing a song whilst I slept.
Today it was the 1994 hit for Seal, a kiss from a rose.
No real reason to pick this song, I haven't heard it for ages. My brain on random shuffle decided to select it as on many other occasions with the songs I awake too.
Singer-songwriter Seal was born in London of Nigerian and Brazilian background.
His full name is Seal Henry Olusegun Olumide Adeola Samuel.
No wonder he shortened it.

Tuesday, 7 February 2012

Falling for you, bush.

I got into bed this morning and my internal lights were out upon my head making contact with the pillow.
They were switched back on again with a start as I fell into a hedge, I put my arms out to save myself and the sharp twigs and branches felt painful against my face and arms. I looked up at my wife who was seconds behind me in getting into bed, a 'what are you doing' look upon her face.
Head back on the pillow and away once again.
I spent the rest of my time asleep thinking to myself that I mustn't wake up, all the time to the following song:-
Well open up your mind and see like me
Open up your plans and damn you're free
Look into your heart and you'll find love love love love
It's the delightful, I'm yours, from singer, song writer, hat wearer, Jason Mraz.


Monday, 6 February 2012

Transformers in a banjo

A banjo, to clear things up before I begin, is not in this instance, referring to the stringed instrument. But what a cul-de-sac is called from my part of the world. It's shaped like a banjo ok.
I begin by helping my neighbour out by getting their washing from the line during a downpour of rain.
There are children watching me intently collect the pegs into a bag, I walk down the line and one by one make them all pop out their eyes and place them in the peg bag. All do it without question.
My dog run towards me but as it reaches me turns into an old fashion push lawn mower, minus the handle.
I then walk round the corner from my mums house with my older sister into the afore mentioned banjo.
We are playing a Laurel and Hardy board game in the street, we look up and see flocks of birds overhead. As we observe, they transform into aeroplanes and we start to shoot them down as part of our game.
We can hear our younger sister at the front door of mums house, she is moaning that someone has looked at all of her photos on her camera.
Next I am with a friend called Harry, Harry has fluffy hair, (really does), Harry and I enter a house full of Polish people one of which is a man mountain. A female asks for our help as the man mountain has punched her.
We look at each other and decide to make a citizens arrest. The huge Polish mountain clearly a cowardly woman beater, trembles and cries when we take him out of the house. Phew!
Finally Harry and myself are in work chatting about how we took down the Eastern European monster, overlooking the fact he was a wimp, when a woman with long brown permed hair puts her head next too mine and covers my face with her hair. No idea why?

Sunday, 5 February 2012

Your my money now!

One way or another I'm gonna find ya
I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha
One way or another I'm gonna win ya
I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha. Blondie. 1979.
I am as I have been many times in my sleep before, at Becontree underground station which is on the District line and runs into central London.
I am going to work and go into a small room that has a hatch where you can buy a ticket but it is boarded up with ply wood. I have my bicycle with me and a lock that has a small teddy bear attached.
I spend an age attempting to find something to lock my bike too before finally settling on fixing it to a table just beneath the hatch. On the table I notice piles of twenty pound notes, a quick visual scout of the empty room and I decide that the cash now belongs to me. As I start scooping it up a woman enters the room saying that she has lost £20. I tell her that is a shame and hastily make my way to the platform.
It is at this point that the sudden realisation hits me that I have no idea what I do for a job.
I next find myself reverse parking a small van outside my father in laws house. I unfortunately slightly touch a neighbours car and get out to check there is no damage, to my horror the neighbours car is badly dented and they come out to complain. I retreat into the house hoping they will go away.
Next I see Emily from work, that's my real work as I don't know what job I have in my dreams. Emily is walking down the street towards my in laws house and asks me if she can stay the night. I awake the following morning and as I exit my room I see Emily coming out of the spare room closely followed by a really fat lad who winks knowingly at me.
I look at Emily who looks embarrassed and awkward. I don't know the fat lad, and judging by the look on Emily's face, I'm guessing she wished she didn't either.

Saturday, 4 February 2012

All is not as it seems

Rather a mixture of things floating in my head last night. I awoke with the Thompson Twins song, Hold me now, playing over and over. A hit in 1983.
To start with I meet two very gay men in the street, before they can engage me in conversation, I produce a pair of scissors and proceed to cut them out as life sized cardboard cutouts.
Next I am escorting former Portuguese international football player, Luis Figo along with my wife from his release from prison. We are taking him to the drapery shop that my mum used to work in my home town. As we enter the shop, Luis, clearly not reformed from his spell in the big house, starts to shout and swear at us. We take exception to this and promptly floor him and demonstrate our displeasure at his behaviour by giving him a few carefully administered punches to the head.
We, my wife and I that is, are next on a coach, I am looking for a pair of thermal leggings to put on as it is very cold. I'm looking through clothes draws for them and do so for what seems hours. Finally I give up look out of the window to see my wife parking my car and as she gets out and zaps the remote, it transforms into a tank.
Next we are moving house and I'm attempting to collect our two cats and dog from the parcel shelf in the coach.
To make things easier, both the cats have turned into rabbits and the dog is now a hamster. All exactly the same colour as they were in their original forms but now easier to catch and to store into cardboard boxes for transportation.
As far as I'm aware, Luis Figo has never spent time in jail.

Friday, 3 February 2012

Goodbye my one legged husband

As often with me as I start to drift away, I start dreaming as soon as I sleep.
Last night I was elbowing people in the chest for no apparent reason and was promptly woken by my wife as she was in fear being in receipt of a rib jab.
Drifting back off again I have the misfortune of only having one leg.
I was at the top of a wooden staircase and could hear my wife talking to her mum, she was saying that she was going to dump me because of my lack of a full compliment of legs.
I became upset by this news and hopped away sad and unwanted.

Thursday, 2 February 2012

Remote control toe

Not much to last nights adventure.
I'm in bed with my wife and we are watching the tv which is situated at the end of the bed on a set of draws. Incidentally we don't have a tv in our bedroom.
There seems to be nothing worth watching on and I lift my leg out from beneath the quilt point my foot at the tv and my big toe starts to extend.
It grows about 4 feet in length until it reaches the tv buttons and I am able to change channels at the flick of an abnormal toe.
My wife is unimpressed until I amaze her by being able to write directly onto the screen with the same freaky toe.
I awoke at this point and after a concerned toe check, I went back to sleep.
As I did I saw actress Jane Seymour with her on screen husband both dressed in 1800's wild west clothing and both playing baseball.
Baseball originated in the US around 1845, so quite possible that Jane was in the right time for it.

Wednesday, 1 February 2012

Hairy bikers in the big house

I start by driving my dog around in the car. Only every now and then he opens the rear door, jumps out and runs along side of the car. No idea how he has managed to learn this, but a neat trick all the same.
Next I'm with both my parents in a massive house that has three storeys to it. I find myself attempting to impress the Hairy Bikers from TV by cooking up a culinary masterpiece.
My parents and the bearded Northern chefs watch on as I lift the large silver lid on a platter to great anticipation, only to reveal, Hula Hoops!
Finally, after my clear failure to impress in the kitchen, I find myself in another part of the great house.
There is a boy of around 12 years of age and the people around him say he hasn't ever spoken.
Having pondered for a short time I decide to change this and pull at him, stretching his skin until he is cloned into an exact twin of himself.
The new clone looks at the boy and starts to scream, the boy faced with himself screeching into his own face, starts to scream too. The boy turns and flees shouting 'Help help'. I look to the shocked people and smile.
Clearly the boy was now traumatised for life, but he can talk.
09 10