Be Excellent To Each Other

Dreamt I was staying in a cottage with MrsA and her parents. I had to go out, but then met with the lass I used to go out with who is from Rawdon. Anyway, we had a walk around a strange fun fair ( with added Grim... on most of the rides, shouting about things) and then met with MrsA and the other girl' s mum and had dinner. The two of them were very complimentary about my countenance toward MrsA and told me I was now lovely. MrsA mainly glowered. weird.

Sweet, I love fairgrounds.

I had the worst / best dream ever last week, and but I'll have to be incredibly drunk to tell you about it.

The only things I can remember about my dreams recently are:

Looking out of an office window and noticing all the cars in the car park had their windows smashed in, with their bonnets open and engines removed.

An image of a tin of ham in a plastic shopping bag at a supermarket checkout

Challenge accepted.

I had a dream conversation with Charlie Brooker where he explained why he's gone dire.

Did the dream reason match the real reason (that having a kid has given him empathy and other emotions that dilute the misanthropy which drove his best writing)?

Basically yeah. He then announced he was taking over the "Family Dad" column in The Express.

I had a weird nightmare last night.
I dreamt my wife was driving me somewhere, whilst I was looking out of the passenger window. All of a sudden I saw a huge rocket being launched at impossibly close range from the side of the road (crazy shit I know). My initial feeling was one of delight; in my dream I said "crikey, that's a Delta rocket!" (er, even though it was actually more akin to an old Juno rocket ), but this was very soon converted to pure terror, as I noted one of its engines shut down as it had only cleared perhaps 100' and it was rolling on its side. I knew it would fall immediately behind us on the road; that it was laden with fuel/LOX and would explode massively - I frantically shouted to my wife to drive as fast as possible, but got that "wading through treacle" feeling you get in nightmares, only to catch sight of the huge rocket falling right behind us, and impending doom.

I know it looks batshit crazy but it was fucking scary and awful; woke up in a cold sweat. A really horrible reminder of a vaguely similar, recurring dream I used to have when I was 2-3 years old. I hope it doesn't come back.

Fuck it. One of his Here's Toby cartoons was scarily prescient about the whole thing and I can't find a copy of it anywhere.

Challenge complete. Epic.

I want to move to London.

Oh fucksticks.

Come on Grim..., give us the Christmas Special.

Last night I dreamt that I was in an episode of Dad's Army, sort of. They were given some leave and so Father Jack (who was also in the unit) was going to fly them in a plane to an airbase somewhere. Upon arrival, Jack taxiied hurriedly over to the fire training area, leapt out and ran shirtless to the fire hose. He demanded that each member of the unit exit the plane one at a time whereupon Jack would air his grievances against them and then spray them with the hose.

Later, I was on a trip through the Southwestern US when we stopped at an amusement park. The rollercoaster was meant to be really good so I lined up for hours and hours and finally go to go on. Sitting at the front, I had four pedals, one of which would engage the chain grabber thing so it could be pulled up the slope, another was a brake (which I needed to use to hold it in place while still in the station!) and I never found out what the other two were for.

To make the ride more interactive, a number of audience participation-style activities took place before the ride even left. I could win a bottle of champagne, for example, by flinging a church collection basket full of corn flakes onto any kid who was wearing Cheetos in their hair. I missed. The laid back staff then went to go and do more stuff and I complained that this was taking forever and my leg was getting tired holding the brakes on.

So the ride started. At this point I noticed the kid in the seat next to me was about three years old (complete with pacifier in his mouth) and I kept shouting at him to sit down and hold onto the safety bar as it was not going to keep him in place! At the top of the hill the ride went down slightly but then each car detached and went different ways into a maze of blue-painted metal latticework. The cars were quite light and you could put your feet down, Fred Flintstone style, to pick them up or change direction. We passed the weird staff guys playing with giant cards which was again another activity but it didn't really seem to matter. Eventually I found the way out and reached the bottom (a basement).

What was meant to happen now was one passenger was supposed to be dressed up like an injured patient and the other would carry them (using the rollercoaster car which folded down flat like a stretcher) towards the next area. My small child companion had vanished so I just grabbed my car and ran. The path lead to a large freight elevator which deliberately stopped about a foot or so short of the next floor so you had to climb up and out. There was no DOOR OPEN button to keep it there so only a large, Grim... like fellow managed to get out the first time. Unsure if this was a competition or what when the elevator went back down and then up again I wedged myself in the door and pushed them back open every time they tried to close so the other riders could get out too. Eventually some were just dithering about so I left them to it and carried on.

I emerged in a huge department store, which was in fact part of the main theme park. The final task was to find the ride exit. You could detach the wheels from the rollercoaster car and wear them as rollerblades, which I did, skating through the store carrying the frame with me. Eventually I left the store and encountered my parents, and asked where the ride exit was. They didn't know and I complained angrily, saying they'd been on the same ride as me so they must have found it. I think I eventually found it but I don't remember what happened, as I woke up.

Daffney's pube scorpions.

I dreamt that I, a guy who was a dashing master thief, and a young Uma Thurman had stolen a one-of-a-kind supercar called a 'BERZERK X' or something. An obsessive FBI agent was chasing us as we tried to escape north from California.

The most tense moment was when said agent arrived in a state trooper's car at a rest stop. Uma had gone into the gas station to use the washroom and we had to keep driving around the parking lot to avoid letting the state trooper catch more than a glance of us lest he recognize the huge black Veyron-style car. Eventually Uma came out of the washroom and walked straight past the FBI agent (who took a second glance at her) and then we took off up a coastal freeway towards Washington state knowing that he was bound to have realized.

In the end we got to Seattle where there was a dock, I thought the thief guy was planning to have the car shipped to China to an illicit buyer but there was no time, so to ensure we didn't get caught we all put on fake beards with grey dye in our hair and watched as he made arrangements for the car to be pumped DOWN the pipe of an oil rig and hidden under the sea bed where an oil reserve had been.

Then Mrs Meaty's alarm went off and woke me up.

No. Fucking. Way.

To aid the forces of communism in the 1980s, two aliens arrived on Earth in East Germany. One was a young boy, the other a very scraggly black dog. The boy found himself informally adopted by a family, while the dog busied itself eating things. As a reward, the aliens beamed food (a large red card) directly into its mouth for it to eat things.

The alien boy didn't speak human language, and babbled away to the kids who'd found him.

The following morning, his adoptive mother shouted at him to stop wailing through the door intercom of her apartment building, and stormed off to work angrily. Meanwhile, another man complained that all of his pairs of underwear had gone missing and the crotch fabric of his pants was a bit thin and at risk of displaying his parts. Pants being hard to get in East Germany.

Meanwhile, the alien dog was now living inside a promotional blimp that was towed through the streets advertising something, and was eating horses or something from carriage rides in the park.

Eventually transparent pants crotch man got to his girlfriend's family's house and they produced a huge pack of y-fronts and he had to put them on in front of them because they only had a tiny one-room apartment because life was hard under communism.

That's all I remember.

Come on, Christmas treat.

Was it you and Craster making a Gaywood sandwich?

Mrs Meaty and I were together, but much younger - 14 or 15. For some reason we both lived with my parents, and my parents wanted to treat us like we were siblings rather than a couple.

I had a hacked alpha of GTA V which I was trying to play. It was basically a remastered version of San Andreas, covering the south and Los Santos area of said game. In game menus pointed to DLC to unlock further chunks of the landscape, which sickened me.

My dad decided we were 'troubled teens' and had hired some kind of a therapist to help us overcome what he perceived to be our problems. The therapist, who called her self 'Yerk' or something, decided it was less confrontational and also more 'yoof' to carry out her sessions via IRC on little netbooks. My dad ordered us to go into separate rooms where we'd find one of these netbooks and be able to chat with Yerk.

/glances at Craster

Come on then Craster, you tell us.



There's more where that came from.

He's become a nicer man.

I am quite pleased that you think that, too. Even Black Mirror was not very good.

I had an awful dream last night. I can't remember the details, but some shadowy force was controlling my movements and forcing me into horrible situations. I'm glad I don't remember it too well, because it was insane.

Maybe I should lay off the 24 marathon a bit.

They're Snickers now, dude.

Shit. That'd explain the freaky dreams, then.

Savile molested me in last night's dream. He's returned as Freddy Kruegar.

Snippets from recent dreams:

Walking down extremely long airport walkways with MarkG testing vacuum cleaners along the way and being quite surprised that Hoovers are actually the best.

Being snowed in after a NYE party in a big old house with umpteen people (constantly changing). David Bowie enters one of the lounges and sits next to me explaining that his return train has been cancelled and he has no food due to travelling in the buffet car he didn't need anything on the way up. I gave him one of my cheese, tomato and onion barmcakes. He couldn't thank me enough and I couldn't say it's absolutely fine enough.

MaliA was the star role in my totally weird messed up dream last night.

It involved rescuing me from a 'mission' I was on, something like a design training camp in space that I was teaching, but it went wrong, so I got a shuttle back to earth but left my suitcase behind so had no belongings and MaliA took me in. So I ending up being in some nice old house in the middle of nowhere (his house, I assume!), and then MrsA called on some kind of modern God-phone, where there was no phone at all and it just sounded like the bit in the last Harry Potter film where Voldemort speaks as if he's in the air. Then a crazy dog with poop on its ear turned up, but MaliA didn't notice and ignored me telling him so gave the dog a good cuddle. Then the house suddenly turned into a pub, and MaliA and I had a weird conversation with a weird snotty local drunk.

And various other random bits.

Freaked. Me. Out.

Good job this thread is dreams and nightmares, because there was definitely both going on.

If you light a candle at midnight, look in a mirror, and shout my real name twelve times I appear behind you, you know.

Can you bring stuff with you? Like if I've run out of wine or something, can I should "Mali bring a bottle!" twelve times? That would be an awesome service.

\
Please be more specific!

Only works with living organic matter...

"Mali bring a kitten" would be quite cool too.

Mali bring a kitten of wine.

Like in terminator.

Only if it isn't being brought into the flat...

Oh. I Wants a kitten.

Even if Mali and the Kitten arrived "Brundlefly" style?

So, Grim..., what was this dream of yours then?

Not happening.

I can only wonder in awe at the depths of it's depravity.

*PMs Craster again*

Really wish I hadn't just googled that.

Important rules of life, #3. If there's ever ANYTHING in a post written by Zardoz that you don't understand, never ever EVER google it. You got off lightly there.

What are #1 and #2?

1. Never give Craster a Hand Grenade.

2. Never start a conversation with Atrocity Exhibition about PCs.

All three rules firmly planted in brain.

Still feel grossed out

Be thankful you didn't google Tubgirl when I made a comment regarding your Tubing on holiday/work trip.

That's Tubgirl, that you shouldn't search for on google. Especially at work.

Tubgirl.

*Don't Google that*

It's NSFW

Google Lemonparty.

I wonder what the next bestest thing not to Google will be?