Tuesday, 8 September 2009

Dream Diary 1 - Terrorist Tackles

I think I might start documenting any funny/memorable dreams on this blog. I'll keep them succinct though if possible.

Last night I dreamt I traveled home (from somewhere) via a chartered bus-flight. Half way along the journey we stopped to get groceries at a shop where the driver also worked at the checkout.
When we returned to the bus-plane the engine had been sabotaged, and rigged to explode, by a terrorist who was hiding in a nearby phonebox. He looked remarkably like an old colleague-turned-boss called Kevin Robinson.
I chased him and rugby tackled that Motherfucker hard. We then apprehended him and took him back to the bus-plane. (I was assisted by and old teacher called John Jeffries who showed up with a Walkie-Talkie.)
Loads more dream happened... but from then on all I could think about was telling my friends about the awesome rugby tackle.

You know when you wake up after dreaming about having money or gold... and you have that few seconds of thinking you still have it... and then you get sad about not having it? Well I went through that same process, but about not having rugby tackled a terrorist.

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