So, I was at my swing dance class, the DJ didn’t turn up, I offered to play some stuff off my laptop. The decks were INCREDIBLE…all edged like the Tron lightcycles.
I plugged in and started to choose some tracks, spotify was taking ages to stream and some disabled douche started heckling me for having too much silence between songs. I ended up fighting him, I don’t even know why he was at a dance class…he clearly couldn’t dance. I also had amazing fight skills, I basically just got him by the neck, my hand was very big.
I got chucked out of the class because i fought the disabled heckler even though he deserved it.
It was at this point my dreams lost all their colour and were drawn on (as they happened) like a graphic novel. This started with me heading a surveillance team. People in a hot tub in the back of an articulated lorry all got shot by some gangsters, I was a detective, I survived by dressing as Catherine Zeta Jones in Chicago and holding my breath underwater. When i popped back up i’d left the graphic novel and had been living on a farm since i was a kid.
I looked after donkeys and dogs, that was my job, These donkeys were on long chains, way too long for my liking. I couldn’t control them and they kept wanting to bite my hands. I decided I was going to move out after the Border Collie’s I was looking after kept trying to steal the rings off my fingers and were biting my gums (wtf?). I arranged a lucrative property deal and ended up making quite a profit on my farmhouse.
When I was leaving the farm (ie: waking up) i came across a hidden playground where kids were all just getting around by doing forward rolls and shouting “cocka doodle doo!”. I tried to explain you only said cockadoodle doo when you did a roly poly off a cockerel but they looked at me as if i was insane.
