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- #1
Seeing as my dreams are becoming more frequent lately, I thought I'd start a brand spanking new Dreams Thread. Text in bold and in brackets denotes something special, text in italics and in brackets denotes that you know why you dreamt about a certain point. Please feel free to contribute!
Last night, I dreamt that I was back in school (the school I attended when I was 13 - I'm now 21). My geography teacher, Mr. Wilson, was being a complete bastard and nobody could figure out why. Apparently it was because his beloved Cambridge United had lost 8-0. (My nephew's football team lost 8-0 yesterday, I doubt he'll be in the starting eleven again...)
After enduring his rage, I went home, where a car salesman, who sold his cars door to door for some reason, was trying to sell a red Ferrari to my mum and dad. (Dad is currently looking to buy a motorbike for the first time in 30-40 years) Mum said "are you going to buy it or what John", he said "how much is it?" The salesman said "£11,000", my dad said "no way, not for that, I'd rather have a bike", so mum said "fine, I'll buy it. You can't let a Ferrari go for £11,000." I was amazed and asked if we could go for a drive in it. "I've bought you a train ticket, I know how much you want to go on holiday so I've bought you a train ticket to Blackpool for three days." So I took my ticket to the train station, where there was a train... Being pulled along by an owl on a rope.
:|
I had to sit on TOP of the train, and off we went. This stupid owl kept going down the wrong tracks that led to dead ends, and I had to grab the rope and pull it to take me the right way. We did three or four laps of this train track, trying to get to Blackpool, but then the owl took me down a dead end, next to a field, and stopped. In the field there was this man with a gun and a hunting dog, shooting and hunting foxes. (I watched the first ever episode of "Harry Hill's TV Burp" last night, in which Harry Hill takes the piss out of "David Dickinson - THE HUNTAAAH!") The owl escaped from the rope and flew into a hedge. I asked the guy to help me out and he said he wouldn't without shooting the owl. He kept asking me if I could and I didn't know the answer. I wanted the stupid fucking owl to die, but my girlfriend is the biggest animal lover on the planet, and I couldn't let her down. ("Lost" spoiler follows)
In the end I said "no, you can't kill it". The owl dropped and turned into a kind of flying teddy-bear. It gave the hunter a hug, then me, then flew off. I was left with no way of getting home, so I had to walk. But it wasn't long before I realised I was actually in Blackpool.
About three days ago, I had a dream where my mum said to me "watch out if you ever go to Blackpool, there's scallies (chavs) there who mug people because they're so upset that they live in a town that's only one square mile big. They say stuff like 'why can't we have a Tesco's like in Manchester?' Be careful of them."
As I was walking home, a gang of three teenagers came upto me on bicycles, saying "why don't we have a Tesco's like where you live?" I said "look, right, pretend I'm standing in Liverpool now, and now I'm standing in Manchester, if the only Tesco's is in Manchester, it's not that far to go is it? It's not Liverpool's fault for being small!" One of the lads said "oh, so we're small, are we?" They were about to beat me up when I woke up.
Beat that mofo's...
Last night, I dreamt that I was back in school (the school I attended when I was 13 - I'm now 21). My geography teacher, Mr. Wilson, was being a complete bastard and nobody could figure out why. Apparently it was because his beloved Cambridge United had lost 8-0. (My nephew's football team lost 8-0 yesterday, I doubt he'll be in the starting eleven again...)
After enduring his rage, I went home, where a car salesman, who sold his cars door to door for some reason, was trying to sell a red Ferrari to my mum and dad. (Dad is currently looking to buy a motorbike for the first time in 30-40 years) Mum said "are you going to buy it or what John", he said "how much is it?" The salesman said "£11,000", my dad said "no way, not for that, I'd rather have a bike", so mum said "fine, I'll buy it. You can't let a Ferrari go for £11,000." I was amazed and asked if we could go for a drive in it. "I've bought you a train ticket, I know how much you want to go on holiday so I've bought you a train ticket to Blackpool for three days." So I took my ticket to the train station, where there was a train... Being pulled along by an owl on a rope.
:|
I had to sit on TOP of the train, and off we went. This stupid owl kept going down the wrong tracks that led to dead ends, and I had to grab the rope and pull it to take me the right way. We did three or four laps of this train track, trying to get to Blackpool, but then the owl took me down a dead end, next to a field, and stopped. In the field there was this man with a gun and a hunting dog, shooting and hunting foxes. (I watched the first ever episode of "Harry Hill's TV Burp" last night, in which Harry Hill takes the piss out of "David Dickinson - THE HUNTAAAH!") The owl escaped from the rope and flew into a hedge. I asked the guy to help me out and he said he wouldn't without shooting the owl. He kept asking me if I could and I didn't know the answer. I wanted the stupid fucking owl to die, but my girlfriend is the biggest animal lover on the planet, and I couldn't let her down. ("Lost" spoiler follows)
In the second series of "Lost", in the latest episode, Sawyer wanted to kill a tree-frog for making this incredibly annoying racket. I wanted him to kill it, I couldn't stand the sound before Sawyer had even heard it himself. But my girlfriend nearly screamed when he eventually crushed it in his hands...
In the end I said "no, you can't kill it". The owl dropped and turned into a kind of flying teddy-bear. It gave the hunter a hug, then me, then flew off. I was left with no way of getting home, so I had to walk. But it wasn't long before I realised I was actually in Blackpool.
About three days ago, I had a dream where my mum said to me "watch out if you ever go to Blackpool, there's scallies (chavs) there who mug people because they're so upset that they live in a town that's only one square mile big. They say stuff like 'why can't we have a Tesco's like in Manchester?' Be careful of them."
As I was walking home, a gang of three teenagers came upto me on bicycles, saying "why don't we have a Tesco's like where you live?" I said "look, right, pretend I'm standing in Liverpool now, and now I'm standing in Manchester, if the only Tesco's is in Manchester, it's not that far to go is it? It's not Liverpool's fault for being small!" One of the lads said "oh, so we're small, are we?" They were about to beat me up when I woke up.
Beat that mofo's...
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