8 days of happiness #6
May. 15th, 2009 07:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
essayelIntermittent I know. I just keep forgetting but - BUT this morning I can say that my dreams make me happy.
So in this dream I was driving, very fast, Formula One. Ah but not ordinary boring Formula One. In my dream I was defending my world champion status from all comers in Formula One Carnival Float racing. And this was the rally stage.
My vehicle was a lockable church pew of the type used by the gentry, very nicely carved in oak still with traces of the medieval paint under the victorian polish, and my co-driver [oh the horror] was my mother.
We stopped at one of the checkpoints and I had a chat to the annoyingly squeaky checkpoint official and afterwards was accosted by the big one of the Baldwins, the one who played Jayne, inna bathrobe, asking why I'd been talking to her in such an awful fake American accent. I looked at her again and realised that she was Sarah Jessica Parker and that I'd done it to piss her off, but I told him that it was just a clause in the rules which I was fairly confident that he wouldn't have read. He sighed sadly and said it was probably the same clause that had specified that he had to drive wearing nothing but a blueberry flavoured ribbed tickler. When we all set out again I did check him out - have to size up the opposition, you see - and discovered a] he was there, and looking like one of Michel-angelo's more self indulgent statues and b] far from being a driver he was actually just Graham Norton's hood ornament, draped pieta-style across their turbo-charged Margaret Thatcher.
The next leg of the race was on that exciting road that goes from Llangorse, round the toe-end of Mynydd Troed, and comes out at Cwmdu - the one that looks promising at first but soon there's grass up the middle and then gates and cattle grids and then nothing but sheep, and it comes out in the farmyard where you have to watch out for that stupid dog that snaps at your tyres.
AND I WON!! Yay. And there was a party and it gets a bit confusing and the last bit I remember is trying to persuade Kel and Maru and everyone else that we needed to take our trousers off and get henna-tattoos all up our legs.
And the scary thing is that, broken down, very nearly all of that makes sense.
Editted to add: Sense to me. I don't expect anyone else to understand it.
So in this dream I was driving, very fast, Formula One. Ah but not ordinary boring Formula One. In my dream I was defending my world champion status from all comers in Formula One Carnival Float racing. And this was the rally stage.
My vehicle was a lockable church pew of the type used by the gentry, very nicely carved in oak still with traces of the medieval paint under the victorian polish, and my co-driver [oh the horror] was my mother.
We stopped at one of the checkpoints and I had a chat to the annoyingly squeaky checkpoint official and afterwards was accosted by the big one of the Baldwins, the one who played Jayne, inna bathrobe, asking why I'd been talking to her in such an awful fake American accent. I looked at her again and realised that she was Sarah Jessica Parker and that I'd done it to piss her off, but I told him that it was just a clause in the rules which I was fairly confident that he wouldn't have read. He sighed sadly and said it was probably the same clause that had specified that he had to drive wearing nothing but a blueberry flavoured ribbed tickler. When we all set out again I did check him out - have to size up the opposition, you see - and discovered a] he was there, and looking like one of Michel-angelo's more self indulgent statues and b] far from being a driver he was actually just Graham Norton's hood ornament, draped pieta-style across their turbo-charged Margaret Thatcher.
The next leg of the race was on that exciting road that goes from Llangorse, round the toe-end of Mynydd Troed, and comes out at Cwmdu - the one that looks promising at first but soon there's grass up the middle and then gates and cattle grids and then nothing but sheep, and it comes out in the farmyard where you have to watch out for that stupid dog that snaps at your tyres.
AND I WON!! Yay. And there was a party and it gets a bit confusing and the last bit I remember is trying to persuade Kel and Maru and everyone else that we needed to take our trousers off and get henna-tattoos all up our legs.
And the scary thing is that, broken down, very nearly all of that makes sense.
Editted to add: Sense to me. I don't expect anyone else to understand it.