Before I get going, I noticed that todays post is number 701 on here. I’ve also had 298 comments. Nowt compared to a lot of bloggers, but still a lot to me.
Anyways, I want to tell you about my dream last night. Wait, before you go, it’s good. It was basically a mix of Groundhog Day with Life on Mars and a few other things. I think it was set in the 80s. The premise of the dream was that I had to stop a man committing a murder, and I couldn’t. When he killed, the day went back to the start again. However, like Groundhog Day, only I had awareness of the repitition, so I gradually investigated what led him to murder, until I could figure out a way to stop it happening. In the end, I had to accept that I couldn’t stop them, and persuade someone else to intervene, which they did by attacking them with FA Cup final memorabilia from the 50s to the 70s. After that it got a bit dull and Freudian, so I’ll spare you of that, but in summary, that is my idea, I can’t be naffed to write it, and I own all primary and subsiduary rights to the idea.
I dreamt that Frank Lampard tried to grope me in the back of a taxi and I told him to **** off so he moved onto Chanelle from BB
))) eeek.