I had an interesting dream last night, which given the season of the Witch I thought I’d share with you. It’s a dark, dank castle. Cobwebs everywhere, gloomy portraits with eyes which follow you, suits of armour that you’d swear moved occasionally – all the finest Haunted Castle clichés.
And as I walk through this cold, stone-lined building I see a light under one oaken door. Opening it I step into a huge hall. There in front of a roaring fire is home style guru Linda Barker, naked and bent over one of the bloody sofas she keeps trying to hock to us in drokking adverts right now while a huge, brick-red demon with a penis like a chainsaw is mercilessly sodomising her over her own sofa (with interest free credit). On the rug nearby is Lawrence Llewellyn-Bowen, also naked. His torso has been ripped open by the scissors Linda Barker uses in her other adverts – always cutting prices, snip, snip – and another demon is emptying his torso out and using his organs and his intestines for some rather original interior decoration and happily ignoring his cries of pain and protests that his liver colour clashes with the drapes.
You think there is some truth in the idea that our dreams often are an outlet for our daytime annoyances?
Coming soon, the new Big Brother which is set in a Nazi SS Experiment Camp… Vote for which inmate gets subjected to a wacky experiment by a mad Nazi scientist each week.
Oh, I love my dreams…If this is being sick I don’t want to be cured. Just keep me away from sharp objects.