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2 hours ago, BigFatTabbyDave said:

Dreamed that I had started back at work (nude superhero at a dingy theatre hall, for those who don't know what I do for a living) and contracted Coronavirus on my first day back, meaning I'd need to go home for another two weeks.

Bit of a pisser, but thankfully the theatre has other nude superheroes to cover, and our nude supervillain promised to be good while I was absent, which was sweet.

In the pantheon of nude superheroes were you ant-man...? :P

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  • 2 weeks later...

Apparently i now live with Alanis Morrisette who is working as a postie. We appear to have bonded over a shared interest in minimalist computer games. She has aged well and has a very shapely bottom. Thing is, i used to absolutely detest her music back in the day. 

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Apparently i now live with Alanis Morrisette who is working as a postie. We appear to have bonded over a shared interest in minimalist computer games. She has aged well and has a very shapely bottom. Thing is, i used to absolutely detest her music back in the day. 
I wonder what she did with the 10,000 spoons she bought?
Sold them to Geller no doubt.
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  • 2 weeks later...

Last night I was in the middle of some 4 way war.
Then, I was watching Firhill as apparently we were playing there. Big crowd.
Suddenly the Jackie Husband stand literally gets eaten up by the ground and a couple thousand rush onto the pitch for safety.

They in turn then bolt as the rest of the ground is sunken into the ground quite inexplicably. Massive, massive incident and Sportscene aren't covering it at all.

Then in in a bar where two... Ostrich type beings are drinking and having a laugh, whilst plotting to escape for freedom.

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On 23/06/2020 at 08:50, coprolite said:

Apparently i now live with Alanis Morrisette who is working as a postie. We appear to have bonded over a shared interest in minimalist computer games. She has aged well and has a very shapely bottom. Thing is, i used to absolutely detest her music back in the day. 

Pong?

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Just woken up from a belter. I don't normally remember dreams as vividly either.

A mate asked me if I'd fill in for him at a gig with a band he had just joined. Despite having no musical ability, I obviously said yes, and headed off to the car park of Bishopbriggs Police Station to meet up with the band. I got there, and a Willie Nelson doppelganger who was the lead singer of the band informed me in a broad Weegie accent I would be playing the drums for them, but I was only allowed to use one arm. Got in the car, and arrived at a massive glass fronted building, which turned out to be the new Greggs global headquarters.

Wullie Nelson told me to sit in reception and wait for them while they headed down to the vault to rob the place. I decided to get the f**k out of Dodge, and escaped through the kitchens and back corridors in a Goodfellas style, suddenly dressed in my school uniform, before finding myself standing at Charing Cross, looking back at the Greggs HQ, which had been built on the site of the Koh-i-Noor.

The brain is fucking brilliant.

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2 minutes ago, Academically Deficient said:

Mine is easily influenced. I now have a huge notion for a sausage roll AND a Rogan josh. 

It's astonishing that I have any appetite at all after my erotic dream about Ruth Davidson.

Please do not share this. Thanks.

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4 minutes ago, Academically Deficient said:

Would you at least consider a contribution to my crowdfunding page for therapy? 

That's more treating the symptom, rather than the cause.

If we let her roam free, she'll live to scar others with her superficially-appealing* conservative front.

*to some people.

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2 minutes ago, BigFatTabbyDave said:

That's more treating the symptom, rather than the cause.

If we let her roam free, she'll live to scar others with her superficially-appealing* conservative front.

*to some people.

Unfortunately it wasn't her conservative front that was the problem, if you follow my drift, Squire. Say n'more. 

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dreamt last night that American polis suspected some wee ned of plotting armed robbery on a chemists (or drug store, as they called it), so they got me in undercover to pretend to be the shopkeeper, telling me it would be a hostage situation. they gave me an antique Mexican shotgun, but when i asked if i was to shoot the ned, they told me not to touch it, just leave it lying against the counter. The ned came in and eyed up the shotgun,  but didn't touch it either. When it became clear that it was a standoff, as i wasn't going to give him the money, we both left the went to get some scran from a supermarket, and the wee ned skipped a wheelchair-bound guy in the queue. I ended up not getting anything, but when we got back to the drug store to resume the hostage situation, the US cops had hastily erected a food-court type space with stalls selling all sorts of things. Still hungry after failing to get anything  at the supermarket, i looked at the boards but it was all vegan stuff and I didn't like the sound of anything, except the falafel. I was about to order a falafel when the press conference began. I took a seat and the wee ned refused to say anything, despite the journalists trying to lead him. It transpired everyone present but me and the wee ned were undercover cops. Then, somehow, he managed to get an uzi and started spraying folk with bullets, including the guy next to me an a pregnant lassie. The ned subdued and arrested, the cops revealed that it was loaded with blanks and the victims all had blood packs on them. I figured this was the last they'd need of me, but it turned out there was a problem and they hadn't managed to record any of it, so they'd need to get a confession. Next thing, they've got the pregnant lassie back in, but it turns out she was wearing a pregnancy suit thing. she's now wearing a bikini (wid, btw) and claiming to the pregnant lassie's twin sister. They try and get me to force the ned to apologise to the 'sister', thus getting him to admit he shot a bunch of people, but he remained silent. The sister started talking in a bad weegie accent to try and draw him out, but it didn't work. Then one of the cops ran in, blurted something out about the hidden microphones and blew the operation, but they blamed it on me and deported both of us back to Scotland. I met the ned again, who was travelling on to south Wales to see the valleys. We arranged to meet up for a pint when he got back, as he wasn't a bad guy really.

Apart from apparently being willing to machine-gun pregnant women, i suppose.

Edited by Bell™
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I dreamed i was making a stew out of shite, then two young vampires decided to rebel against their stuffy elders and have sex in the middle of the road. They were disturbed by a sinister oppossum and a fat bald mute who sat on the pavement watching, despite having no iris or pupils in his eyes. 

The most concerning thing is that's my second dream about cooking with shite, although this time i don't know whether ot was my own. 

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  • 2 weeks later...

Had the classic "you're late for an exam" effort last night. Except the exam was about Star Wars. So I was watching one of the films and reading this massive encyclopaedia to remember what happened in them. The exam was at "11:65" and I seemed to constantly have ten minutes until then. Then it started raining so I had to get the washing in. Then Granny Sanchez came round and wanted me to read the paper to her. Then some unionists on the street behind me had a fleg out on a giant pole and were shouting about something and the news turned up, so I was over there. Hellish.

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