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Rescue Chickens

The Kindness of Strangers

Does my arse look fat in this soul?

The demon of paranoia re-visits old Sket

On The Road......

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2005-05-30 - 11:56 a.m.

Oh God, I've GOT to share this snippet of a dream with you.

My cold rages on as a damn annoying and constant cough now. My nights are spent in a half sleeping state of being too hot, coughing and twisting around in the bed trying to find a cold patch. One of the upsides of this disturbed sleep pattern is that you get to remember more dreams. The last one I had was so ridiculous that myself and even my dream co-star rolled around on the dream floor pissing ourselves with laughter.

So, me and CARY GRANT are locked in a cell...

(Cary Grant, I know!)

...we can't get out but know that we must. I get the impression that someone is going to come for us and we'll be executed if we don't escape. It seems that escape is indeed impossible.

until that is,

Cary discovers he has a single match in his pocket.

(don't ask me why this was a remarkable find, it was a dream and normal rules don't apply!)

...but alas, there is nowhere to strike the precious match (erm, even tho the floors and walls are rough stone) and we look anxiously at the match. THEN I have an idea, if I drop my trousers and FART onto the match, perhaps it will light.

(????!!)

By now, both Cary (I like to think we're on first name terms now that I've farted onto his match) and I are hunched over in the cell laughing like drains whilst he holds the match up to my bare arse. I strain, puff and blow but there is no fart forthcoming. Suddenly the atmosphere turns serious. By god I've got to fart on that match if I want to save both our lives!

Suddenly a loud and painful ripper blasts out of my arse. Cary drops the match in shock and we both start laughing again. Fortunately the match is lying on the floor lit with a giant flame. Cary Grant picks it gently up and (shakes head) opens the bleedin door with it.

Now there are certain elements within this dream that I don't understand. Firstly, what would Cary Grant represent to my fevered psyche, you can't light a match with a fart BUT you can light a fart with a match and also, how the feck was he supposed to have opened a door with a lit match? He didn't blow it up or anything, he used it like a key.

Analyse that one dream analysis people!

I suspect I've gone wrong somewhere along the line :(

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