OK. If any of you are like me, you're prone to the odd whacky dream. I tend to have my whackiest ones when I'm feeling crook, as I am today. So I thought I'd create a thread where people can post their bizarre dreams for others to
chuckle over or for people to attempt to decipher.
Yak and the Amazing Technicolour ShinpadsToday's dream involved me being in London or Newtown (can't figure out which - ha!) and staying with a bunch of pals. One of my really good mates (who is quite attractive, but in an ugly-duckling-who's-turned-into-a-swan kinda way, so he doesn't really know how to deal with hot women trying to crack onto him) and I were heading out for the evening, and we were being dorks...and he had these two hot chicks fawning all over him, and didn't know quite how to tell them to fuck off without being rude...so we just kept walking towards the main entertainment district with these two pathetic bimbos following along and flirting shamelessly with him. I got embarrassed for them, it was so dodgy. There was some kind of vending machine involved at this point, but it's a bit blurry. I think it spat out whole dinners or something bizarre.
Anyway, we were walking through a park and for some reason I'd decided to wear some shinpads out for the night. They were amazing gold and black soccer shinpads. God knows why I was wearing them.
In the park, there was a soccer game going on. We tried to walk through the game without interfering with it, but it was a quick game so it was hard to avoid. Somehow we discovered that it was actually the World Cup final between England and France that we were walking through the middle of. We didn't really care - neither of us being soccer fans - but we just sauntered on...
Anyway, the score was 0-0 and was into extra time apparently. The ball came hurtling towards me and I kind of froze, thinking I was going to get whacked by it. Instead it hit my magnificent shinpads and went fanging from one end of the field to the other towards the goal mouth, just missing it. The crowd gasped, and I looked down at my shinpads in amazement. Realising that they were kind of magical, I figured I should do my bit and try and win the game, so I ran towards the ball (I was playing for England it seems) and kept sticking my legs out, and the ball would deflect off them with huge force, without me using any effort. After about 15 minutes, I managed to score the decisive goal with my amazing shinpads, and the crowd erupted wildly. I quickly found my friend and we pissed off to the pub before we could be swamped by people.
Anyway, the dream cut to the next morning, when I was waking up in a friend's apartment that I'd crashed at. I was very groggy, and the details of the night before began to come flooding back as I stood up in my PJs looking out the window, reefing a wedgie out of my arse and yawning and stretching. As I woke up a bit more, I noticed someone across the street aiming a camera at me, and then I realised that it was some kind of paparazzi who had tracked me down after scoring the goal.
I quickly dived below window level, and drew the curtains shut. I crawled to my friend's bedroom to tell her what was going on, but she'd left a note saying she'd ducked out somewhere briefly. I sat there wondering what the extent of the paparazzi-hounding would be.
I crept to the door and hesitated before creaking it open to look outside. Peeking through the crack, the coast seemed clear. Then all of a sudden there were a gazillion flashes and people running at the door trying to break it down to get in. Some skinny woman with a maniacal look in her eye started to squeeze through the gap and I punched her in the head and slammed the door on it.
I heard a tapping at the window and figured it would be the paparazzi trying to get in. Then I heard someone calling my name. It was my friend, who happened to be a priest in my dream. I opened the window and he climbed through and we shut the door.
I then heard a key in the door and thought one of the paparazzi was breaking in. Instead it was my friend, who happened to be a judge, and was wearing a judge's wig.
We all kinda sat there staring at each other and listening to the chaos outside. My priest friend was sitting under a stone arch between the living room and the kitchen and he pointed up to it. On it was inscribed some religious phrase written in latin that I can't remember, but it was particularly relevant to the situation. We all looked up to it, gave each other a resigned smile, and then I woke up
