Cheese: Reblochon (approx 100g)
I was in a bar that seemed to be under some railway arches - I'm not sure exactly, but it was certainly arched. It was being run by a girl I went to school with.
It was quite seedy and dirty but in an underground chic sort of a way. There was a band setting up inside, and lots of posters and fliers on the wall advertising bands, gigs and clubs. It was during the daytime and the bar was pretty quiet.
I'm not entirely sure what I was doing there, as I don't recall having a drink. Some people, including the girl running the bar, were huddled round. There was a black box - I'm not sure what was in it. They put the box into a really beat up old leather bag, with old fashioned clip fasteners at the top. The bag was leather, but the leather was really worn and the outer layer was flaking away quite badly.
They gave me the bag, and told me to look after it. I wandered off for a while and came back later. It was night by this time and the bar seemed a much more dangerous place. A lot of scantily clad women were hanging around outside - I'm pretty sure they were hookers, but couldn't be sure if they'd just gone out for a cigarette.
The bar was a bit of a dive and people were shooting up heroin inside. I dumped the bag with the bar staff and told them to give it to the manager, then I made a pretty hasty retreat.
Freakiness: 7
Nightmare Factor: 6
Amusement Factor: 3
Enjoyability: 4
Coherence: 3
Vividness: 3
Wednesday, 29 September 2010
Monday, 20 September 2010
The Terminator and the Journey Home
Cheese: (Cheshire approx 70g)
I was in a very tall building in Los Angeles and there was a Terminator on the loose (like in the films), but this Terminator was not Arnold Schwarznegger, and he also seemed to have a sense of humour.
I got in a lift in the building to try and escape, but the Terminator got in the lift on another floor. I decided it was best not to let on that I knew he was a Terminator so I tried to be nonchalant and not let on that I knew.
He started cracking blue jokes, which were actually quite funny, so I didn't need to feign laughter. I noticed that the lift was moving up rather than down, and we were heading for the top floor.
When it stopped, I got out and wandered off. The building was very high and I there was a great view over the whole of LA. I looked down on big wide highways and the traffic which seemed to be speeding down them, there seemed to be a sense of panic on the streets and I wondered if there had been a whole invasion of Terminators.
I decided to head off and try to get to the airport. As I went back to the lift, the Terminator was there again. This time he seemed to be using the lift as a gigantic bomb. He was loading it with explosives.
He then got in it, shot the cable and the lift disappeared down the shaft with an almighty explosion at the bottom. I figured it was probably best to take the stairs. I hurried down many flights of stairs. At the bottom, there was a gunfight going on between security forces and the terminator. I escaped from the building as fast as I could.
I headed to the airport and got a flight back to Heathrow - although I remember very little of this.
At Heathrow there were problems with connecting flights up to my hometown. The flight took off, but had barely got off the ground when it had to make an emergency landing.
One of the other passengers told me about a secret labyrinth that could get me home - if I could find my way through it. Against my better judgment I went in to the labyrinth. It seemed to be a series of rooms, and each room was some sort of puzzle that you had to solve to get out.
At this point it all becomes a bit of a blur. There was one room that was full of shoes, and I had to put on the correct pair of shoes to get out. Another one was a game of rugby at a high school. Another involved giving some ex-workmates a lift down a road on the side of a big lake.
The last game was in some sort of town centre when I bumped into some old school friends. I figured out (I'm not sure how) that I needed to go with them to a coffee shop and order a black fruit smoothie.
Once I'd done this, I walked out of the coffee shop and was in my hometown and caught the bus home.
Freakiness: 7
Nightmare Factor: 8
Amusement Factor: 3
Enjoyability: 6
Coherence: 4
Vividness: 6
I was in a very tall building in Los Angeles and there was a Terminator on the loose (like in the films), but this Terminator was not Arnold Schwarznegger, and he also seemed to have a sense of humour.
I got in a lift in the building to try and escape, but the Terminator got in the lift on another floor. I decided it was best not to let on that I knew he was a Terminator so I tried to be nonchalant and not let on that I knew.
He started cracking blue jokes, which were actually quite funny, so I didn't need to feign laughter. I noticed that the lift was moving up rather than down, and we were heading for the top floor.
When it stopped, I got out and wandered off. The building was very high and I there was a great view over the whole of LA. I looked down on big wide highways and the traffic which seemed to be speeding down them, there seemed to be a sense of panic on the streets and I wondered if there had been a whole invasion of Terminators.
I decided to head off and try to get to the airport. As I went back to the lift, the Terminator was there again. This time he seemed to be using the lift as a gigantic bomb. He was loading it with explosives.
He then got in it, shot the cable and the lift disappeared down the shaft with an almighty explosion at the bottom. I figured it was probably best to take the stairs. I hurried down many flights of stairs. At the bottom, there was a gunfight going on between security forces and the terminator. I escaped from the building as fast as I could.
I headed to the airport and got a flight back to Heathrow - although I remember very little of this.
At Heathrow there were problems with connecting flights up to my hometown. The flight took off, but had barely got off the ground when it had to make an emergency landing.
One of the other passengers told me about a secret labyrinth that could get me home - if I could find my way through it. Against my better judgment I went in to the labyrinth. It seemed to be a series of rooms, and each room was some sort of puzzle that you had to solve to get out.
At this point it all becomes a bit of a blur. There was one room that was full of shoes, and I had to put on the correct pair of shoes to get out. Another one was a game of rugby at a high school. Another involved giving some ex-workmates a lift down a road on the side of a big lake.
The last game was in some sort of town centre when I bumped into some old school friends. I figured out (I'm not sure how) that I needed to go with them to a coffee shop and order a black fruit smoothie.
Once I'd done this, I walked out of the coffee shop and was in my hometown and caught the bus home.
Freakiness: 7
Nightmare Factor: 8
Amusement Factor: 3
Enjoyability: 6
Coherence: 4
Vividness: 6
Monday, 30 August 2010
Quizmaster Rooney
Cheese: Isle of Mull Cheddar (approx. 100g)
I was playing football, but not on a football pitch, in a massive building that had all sorts of corridors and rooms, but open spaces too. There were an awful lot of people there, not all of them playing football, and it wasn't always possible to tell who was playing and who was on what team.
I do remember there were a lot of older ladies in twin sets and pearls carrying around homemade jam - they were not playing football. After chasing the ball round this building for a while it came out in an open area, a sort of hall, and then it took on a more recognisable form of football.
I managed to get the ball and almost collided with an old lady carrying cup cakes, but kept my feet and coolly slotted the ball past Ben Fogle who was playing in goal. The goal, for some reason, seemed to also mean the end of the game, and having scored the winning goal I was ushered off into some room for a 'special prize'.
I walked into this room to be faced by Wayne Rooney sat at a desk. I sat down and he started asking me questions about music. He was asking me about Led Zeppelin albums, about rappers and all sorts. The questions got harder and harder and more and more obscure, when he asked me what the name of Freddie Mercury's gay lover was, I started to question what the point of this was and how it didn't seem like much of a prize to me. He told me to answer the question, I said I didn't know. He said 'That's a pity' and yanked a lever - a trap door opened and I shot downwards through it.
I had a soft landing after a short fall, rolled off the mat I had landed on and went through a door. I found myself in an office, but it was still clearly the same building. One of my former colleagues was there and asked me if I wanted to do any freelancing work as the company was short of people. I said I wasn't that keen, but managed to negotiate a very good rate.
He told me to sit at any computer and start working. He said the work was obvious - indeed it was, as it turned out to be games of noughts and crosses.
Freakiness: 4
Nightmare Factor: 4
Amusement Factor: 4
Enjoyability: 6
Coherence: 7
Vividness: 5
I was playing football, but not on a football pitch, in a massive building that had all sorts of corridors and rooms, but open spaces too. There were an awful lot of people there, not all of them playing football, and it wasn't always possible to tell who was playing and who was on what team.
I do remember there were a lot of older ladies in twin sets and pearls carrying around homemade jam - they were not playing football. After chasing the ball round this building for a while it came out in an open area, a sort of hall, and then it took on a more recognisable form of football.
I managed to get the ball and almost collided with an old lady carrying cup cakes, but kept my feet and coolly slotted the ball past Ben Fogle who was playing in goal. The goal, for some reason, seemed to also mean the end of the game, and having scored the winning goal I was ushered off into some room for a 'special prize'.
I walked into this room to be faced by Wayne Rooney sat at a desk. I sat down and he started asking me questions about music. He was asking me about Led Zeppelin albums, about rappers and all sorts. The questions got harder and harder and more and more obscure, when he asked me what the name of Freddie Mercury's gay lover was, I started to question what the point of this was and how it didn't seem like much of a prize to me. He told me to answer the question, I said I didn't know. He said 'That's a pity' and yanked a lever - a trap door opened and I shot downwards through it.
I had a soft landing after a short fall, rolled off the mat I had landed on and went through a door. I found myself in an office, but it was still clearly the same building. One of my former colleagues was there and asked me if I wanted to do any freelancing work as the company was short of people. I said I wasn't that keen, but managed to negotiate a very good rate.
He told me to sit at any computer and start working. He said the work was obvious - indeed it was, as it turned out to be games of noughts and crosses.
Freakiness: 4
Nightmare Factor: 4
Amusement Factor: 4
Enjoyability: 6
Coherence: 7
Vividness: 5
Friday, 13 August 2010
The Gunman's Balls
I don't why I'm surprised, but as soon as I post that I'm not really getting any dreams at the moment, I get an absolute belter thanks to some particularly awesome Isle of Mull cheddar (which bizarrely had no effect at all a couple of days ago).
Cheese: Isle of Mull Cheddar (approx. 60g)
I was on holiday with my wife and my parents, and we were driving up the Eastern coast of Spain somewhere. We stopped for a night at a spa hotel, at least I think it was a spa hotel as it was done out in a log cabin style.
The hotel had Christmas decorations up everywhere, despite it being July. I got my wife to ask at the reception desk why they had the decorations up, as she speaks good Spanish. After a long conversation which I only understood a tiny amount of, my wife said that they hadn't got round to taking them down and now next Christmas was closer than last Christmas so they figured they'd leave them up.
The next day we drove up to a nice cottage in the mountains, and then the main bit of the holiday seemed to get skipped as we were then heading back home. On the way home we got stuck in a massive traffic jam just by where the spa hotel was. We tried to take a cheeky shortcut through the hotel to bypass the traffic jam, but ended up having to go back and re-join the motorway further back instead of further forward.
When we got back to England we spent some time in London, and while we were staying in the hotel, a travel program was on, which by coincidence featured the spa hotel we had stayed in.
I wandered out of the hotel and down the street, there was a commotion going on and it soon transpired that a lone crazed gunman was on the loose. Before I knew what was going on, I had been shot, but not very badly, the bullet just passed one of my lower ribs.
I climbed into the nearest car to take cover until the ordeal was over. After a few minutes, the driver side door opened and the gunman got in. Apparently he had run out of bullets. He told me how he was going to go down the street and shoot people in certain cars. He then told me he was going to shoot me in this car. I replied that he couldn't do that now as he had no bullets left.
Instead he jabbed his fingers into my bullet wound, causing the most intense pain I've ever experienced in a dream. I writhed around, and in desperation, unleashed a very hard, adrenaline powered headbutt on him.
He reeled backwards, blood pouring from his nose. I reached over him and opened the door, and then kicked him out of it on to the road. I climbed across the seat and got out of the car. He was trying to get up and escape, so I gave him a good, hard kick in the testicles.
He dropped like a cheap hooker's knickers, and I administered another solid kick to the genitals. He looked up and pleaded with me to stop.
"Should have thought of that, before you started shooting people!" I yelled at him, before kicking him in the nuts for a third and fourth time.
At this point, the police came over to apprehend him. I was a bit worried that I'd be in trouble, but they recognised him as the gunman, so I was in the clear. In fact, the police were very thankful for my assistance in apprehending him.
They cuffed him, and before dragging him off, one of the policemen turned to me and said
"Would you like to kick him in the testicles one last time, sir?"
"Yes, thank you officer." I politely replied, before unleashing a proper mule kick to the knackers. He was no longer able to walk.
Freakiness: 8
Nightmare Factor: 7
Amusement Factor: 6
Enjoyability: 5
Coherence: 3
Vividness: 4
Cheese: Isle of Mull Cheddar (approx. 60g)
I was on holiday with my wife and my parents, and we were driving up the Eastern coast of Spain somewhere. We stopped for a night at a spa hotel, at least I think it was a spa hotel as it was done out in a log cabin style.
The hotel had Christmas decorations up everywhere, despite it being July. I got my wife to ask at the reception desk why they had the decorations up, as she speaks good Spanish. After a long conversation which I only understood a tiny amount of, my wife said that they hadn't got round to taking them down and now next Christmas was closer than last Christmas so they figured they'd leave them up.
The next day we drove up to a nice cottage in the mountains, and then the main bit of the holiday seemed to get skipped as we were then heading back home. On the way home we got stuck in a massive traffic jam just by where the spa hotel was. We tried to take a cheeky shortcut through the hotel to bypass the traffic jam, but ended up having to go back and re-join the motorway further back instead of further forward.
When we got back to England we spent some time in London, and while we were staying in the hotel, a travel program was on, which by coincidence featured the spa hotel we had stayed in.
I wandered out of the hotel and down the street, there was a commotion going on and it soon transpired that a lone crazed gunman was on the loose. Before I knew what was going on, I had been shot, but not very badly, the bullet just passed one of my lower ribs.
I climbed into the nearest car to take cover until the ordeal was over. After a few minutes, the driver side door opened and the gunman got in. Apparently he had run out of bullets. He told me how he was going to go down the street and shoot people in certain cars. He then told me he was going to shoot me in this car. I replied that he couldn't do that now as he had no bullets left.
Instead he jabbed his fingers into my bullet wound, causing the most intense pain I've ever experienced in a dream. I writhed around, and in desperation, unleashed a very hard, adrenaline powered headbutt on him.
He reeled backwards, blood pouring from his nose. I reached over him and opened the door, and then kicked him out of it on to the road. I climbed across the seat and got out of the car. He was trying to get up and escape, so I gave him a good, hard kick in the testicles.
He dropped like a cheap hooker's knickers, and I administered another solid kick to the genitals. He looked up and pleaded with me to stop.
"Should have thought of that, before you started shooting people!" I yelled at him, before kicking him in the nuts for a third and fourth time.
At this point, the police came over to apprehend him. I was a bit worried that I'd be in trouble, but they recognised him as the gunman, so I was in the clear. In fact, the police were very thankful for my assistance in apprehending him.
They cuffed him, and before dragging him off, one of the policemen turned to me and said
"Would you like to kick him in the testicles one last time, sir?"
"Yes, thank you officer." I politely replied, before unleashing a proper mule kick to the knackers. He was no longer able to walk.
Freakiness: 8
Nightmare Factor: 7
Amusement Factor: 6
Enjoyability: 5
Coherence: 3
Vividness: 4
Thursday, 12 August 2010
Dreamer's Block (Again)
Despite spending a small fortune in the local cheese shop, I'm getting no luck with the dreams at the moment. I've tried, among others, Brie de Meaux and Isle of Mull Cheddar, but it has been a good couple of weeks since I can recall having any dream at all.
The other night I nailed a full 125g of stinking, sticky mature Brie de Meaux, convinced that such a high dose of mature cheese would have me surfing creamy dream waves all night, but in the morning I could not recall anything at all.
I will further arm myself with more cheese at the weekend, and up the dosage.
The other night I nailed a full 125g of stinking, sticky mature Brie de Meaux, convinced that such a high dose of mature cheese would have me surfing creamy dream waves all night, but in the morning I could not recall anything at all.
I will further arm myself with more cheese at the weekend, and up the dosage.
Sunday, 25 July 2010
Franz
Cheese: Cheshire (approx. 50g)
In what was a truly bizarre and disturbing dream, many things happened, and on waking I found it very difficult to piece them all together.
The central theme of the dream, as I recall, was my 10 year old ethnic Bolivian second cousin was marrying his 34 year old primary school teacher, and to be fair to my little cousin, she was an absolute hottie. However, everyone, including myself, was very concerned at the prospect of a ten year old boy getting married.
There were many comings and goings as we tried to get to the bottom of what was happening, and indeed how such a union could possibly be performed. My cousin didn't care though, despite being only ten, the benefits of shacking up with a red hot babe were clearly not lost on him, and he was truly excited by the prospect. He seemed to be genuinely enamored with his would-be bride too.
The wedding was clearly very close, as everyone was dressed in their finest and we were in some plush hotel, which I could only assume was the wedding venue. While all this hoo-ha was going on and everyone was trying to get to the bottom of what was happening, I suddenly noticed German football legend Franz Beckenbauer, the only man to captain and manage World Cup winning teams.
However, this was not Franz as he is now, but a much younger Franz early on in his playing career (well before growing his ridiculous 70s sideburns). I got talking to him, and he told me he was there as a guest of honour at a football tournament going on in the hotel grounds. He said he could show me where the tournament was happening.
As we walked out of the hotel, I asked him if he was going to return the 1975 European Cup to its rightful owners. He smiled and mumbled something about it not being his fault. He said he got the ball when he brought down Allan Clarke, I said 'That's absolute bollocks, he did you like a kipper and you were nowhere near'. He smiled again.
Round the back of the hotel was a massive field with about 20 5-a-side pitches and game happening on all of them. As I wandered round, I noticed one team had a few guys I was at school with in.
One of them was taking a throw in, and managed to throw it from nearly the half way line right into the net. The referee correctly disallowed it as you can't score from a throw in.
Freakiness: 8
Nightmare Factor: 6
Amusement Factor: 3
Enjoyability: 4
Coherence: 3
Vividness: 7
In what was a truly bizarre and disturbing dream, many things happened, and on waking I found it very difficult to piece them all together.
The central theme of the dream, as I recall, was my 10 year old ethnic Bolivian second cousin was marrying his 34 year old primary school teacher, and to be fair to my little cousin, she was an absolute hottie. However, everyone, including myself, was very concerned at the prospect of a ten year old boy getting married.
There were many comings and goings as we tried to get to the bottom of what was happening, and indeed how such a union could possibly be performed. My cousin didn't care though, despite being only ten, the benefits of shacking up with a red hot babe were clearly not lost on him, and he was truly excited by the prospect. He seemed to be genuinely enamored with his would-be bride too.
The wedding was clearly very close, as everyone was dressed in their finest and we were in some plush hotel, which I could only assume was the wedding venue. While all this hoo-ha was going on and everyone was trying to get to the bottom of what was happening, I suddenly noticed German football legend Franz Beckenbauer, the only man to captain and manage World Cup winning teams.
However, this was not Franz as he is now, but a much younger Franz early on in his playing career (well before growing his ridiculous 70s sideburns). I got talking to him, and he told me he was there as a guest of honour at a football tournament going on in the hotel grounds. He said he could show me where the tournament was happening.
As we walked out of the hotel, I asked him if he was going to return the 1975 European Cup to its rightful owners. He smiled and mumbled something about it not being his fault. He said he got the ball when he brought down Allan Clarke, I said 'That's absolute bollocks, he did you like a kipper and you were nowhere near'. He smiled again.
Round the back of the hotel was a massive field with about 20 5-a-side pitches and game happening on all of them. As I wandered round, I noticed one team had a few guys I was at school with in.
One of them was taking a throw in, and managed to throw it from nearly the half way line right into the net. The referee correctly disallowed it as you can't score from a throw in.
Freakiness: 8
Nightmare Factor: 6
Amusement Factor: 3
Enjoyability: 4
Coherence: 3
Vividness: 7
Sunday, 11 July 2010
World Cup Dreams
I've been working away quite a bit recently, hence the lack of posts. Once I've finished my stint (in a couple of weeks) I'm hoping to be more prolific in my posting (and the World Cup has finished too).
Cheese: Mature Cheddar
I was watching the World Cup final, and I'm not sure how or why but South Korea were in it, and doing really well. Everyone seemed to be supporting them.
I was watching with my late grandfather (my favourite aspect of dreaming is the ability to bring the dead back to life, albeit fleetingly). He was getting really into it and was regaling me with stories of when he used to play centre half for his university college.
It was the end of normal time and extra time was about to start, and I decided to go down to the pub to meet my mate Al. We got down there and the footie was still on. Everyone was supporting Korea and they got a penalty.
When Ji-Sung Park stepped up to slot it in, everyone went absolutely nuts, and Korea won the World Cup. After the trophy was collected, me and my mate decided to order some food at the pub.
I went up and ordered two food dishes and two drinks. They said they would bring the drinks over to us. We got into a long and involved conversation about the football, and a while later our food arrived, and we realised we still didn't have the drinks.
I went back to the bar to see what had happened to the drinks. I explained to the bar maid what had happened, she asked me what drinks I'd ordered - a J20 for me as I was driving and a pint of Tetley's for my mate. The bar maid then tried to charge me, and I explained we'd already paid.
At that point the bar manager intervened and I explained to her what had happened. At that point she asked me if I was driving, I said yes, and she told me I shouldn't drink and drive. I told her I was having the J20. She then tried to claim that J20s were 2.9% alcohol. I told her to fuck off and said that even if they were 2.9% alcohol, which they weren't, it would still be well under the drink drive limit.
She then started lecturing me about how I shouldn't drink at all if I was driving. Eventually I got the drinks off her and went and sat back down again. We ate our food pretty quickly, and I explained to Al what had happened, he thought they were an absolute bunch of jokers.
We left, and as we walked back to the car Al decided to show his dissatisfaction with their treatment of us by urinating against the back door of the pub. 'I'll give them customer feedback!' he yelled as the hot steaming piss gushed down the back door.
Freakiness: 4
Nightmare Factor: 5
Amusement Factor: 7
Enjoyability: 6
Coherence: 7
Vividness: 7
Cheese: Mature Cheddar
I was watching the World Cup final, and I'm not sure how or why but South Korea were in it, and doing really well. Everyone seemed to be supporting them.
I was watching with my late grandfather (my favourite aspect of dreaming is the ability to bring the dead back to life, albeit fleetingly). He was getting really into it and was regaling me with stories of when he used to play centre half for his university college.
It was the end of normal time and extra time was about to start, and I decided to go down to the pub to meet my mate Al. We got down there and the footie was still on. Everyone was supporting Korea and they got a penalty.
When Ji-Sung Park stepped up to slot it in, everyone went absolutely nuts, and Korea won the World Cup. After the trophy was collected, me and my mate decided to order some food at the pub.
I went up and ordered two food dishes and two drinks. They said they would bring the drinks over to us. We got into a long and involved conversation about the football, and a while later our food arrived, and we realised we still didn't have the drinks.
I went back to the bar to see what had happened to the drinks. I explained to the bar maid what had happened, she asked me what drinks I'd ordered - a J20 for me as I was driving and a pint of Tetley's for my mate. The bar maid then tried to charge me, and I explained we'd already paid.
At that point the bar manager intervened and I explained to her what had happened. At that point she asked me if I was driving, I said yes, and she told me I shouldn't drink and drive. I told her I was having the J20. She then tried to claim that J20s were 2.9% alcohol. I told her to fuck off and said that even if they were 2.9% alcohol, which they weren't, it would still be well under the drink drive limit.
She then started lecturing me about how I shouldn't drink at all if I was driving. Eventually I got the drinks off her and went and sat back down again. We ate our food pretty quickly, and I explained to Al what had happened, he thought they were an absolute bunch of jokers.
We left, and as we walked back to the car Al decided to show his dissatisfaction with their treatment of us by urinating against the back door of the pub. 'I'll give them customer feedback!' he yelled as the hot steaming piss gushed down the back door.
Freakiness: 4
Nightmare Factor: 5
Amusement Factor: 7
Enjoyability: 6
Coherence: 7
Vividness: 7
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