looik, if you really want to meet up with the dead, it's really easy. just spend the night in Portgower.
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
I am sometimes led to despair by the level of discussion on the Org but now and again I read some of the crypto-Orwellian-by-proxy fantasy published on the letters page of the Groat and I realise how isolated some people can be when they don't have the collected wisdom of the Org to put them right. For example look at this letter in today's Groat...
Candidate’s support for Red Ed is worrying
I may be a little worried about Ed and you JL are perhaps more worried than I, but that letter is so ludicrously detached from any earthly reality that it could have been written by our good friend fred if he was on the other side of the political divide. Or by Stavro on one of his saner days.
Indeed it must have been a slow news day because the letters page in today's groat included another deluded diatribe.....
The race is on all over the world to become self-reliant in energy generation
Caithness is a truly wonderful place to live and as such it offers its letter writers the opportunity to make up 'facts' with the levels of impunity that wouldn't go unnoticed elsewhere. It almost makes me want to come back home to join them.
I'm sorry for taking this thread so far off topic but I'm sure I shall have something more on topic following my Advanced Daydreaming Lesson tomorrow.
Last edited by crayola; 16-Oct-10 at 02:17.
If I may add an anecdote. One day, my dog had an exciting day chasing rabbits and one hare. That evening, lying sound asleep on his side in front of the fire, he dreamed of his exciting escapades, complete with moving his legs in a running motion and yipping like little war crys.
From then, I have been convinced that dogs, not just humans can experience dreams.
OK, Crayo, I'll spell it out for you. Our wee Westie Sam often has lots of runs chasing rabbits in his sleep, accompanied by the woofs and yips.
He also can waken suddenly out a sleep and be growling at something that always seems to be behind him.
Maybe it's just his farts! But I never get any smells from him.
Is that clear enough for you?
I don't dream much meself!
Well, not that I remember anyway.
"Life is a sexually transmitted disease, with 100% fatality." R.D.Laing
I love it that you and your westie share the same dreams. He is lucky to have you.
Last night I was trying to travel along the straight line from yesterday to today, as one does every night. But for some reason last night that involved taking a detour around a semi-circle. I could get around the semi-circle but I didn't understand how I did it so I kept going back. I still couldn't figure it out when I awoke this morning. But somehow I had made it without knowing how.
I think my house may be haunted by a ghost witch.
I lost my reading glasses this afternoon. This isn't a rarity so I wasn't any more upset than I would be usually. Then my Cillit Bang bottle disappeared. That was a shock! Then the cloth I was using to clean the kitchen disappeared. That was a second shock. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and no-one was there. That was a huge shock! I was alone in the kitchen and there was no-one else in the house!
This was no dream. It was real.
I felt that hand. How?
Cillit Bang is used to decontaminate radioactive surfaces I think.....
Why would the dead die to get away from us all and then find themselves mingling amongst us again? That just doesn't make sense to me.
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.
Ha ha yes. I remember reading that.
I spent most of yesterday with my best friends Dettol, Cillit Bang, Toilet Duck and my alltime best friend Shower Sparkle.
Until the undead ghost witch took Cillit away from me.
What I didn't say in my previous post was that I cursed the ghost using words that only the sisterhood know. She vanished instantly after returning Cillit and my specs. But she escaped with my cloth.
I was driving home tonight when I drove past my younger self heading into town for a night out. I was wearing knee-length suede boots with embarrassingly low heels and a short dark skirt with dark brown tights which unbelievably were fashionable at the time. What I can't remember is the identity of the man I was with. I think he was an American ambassador's son but I don't know how or why I knew him. Is my memory playing games? Was I too high on red-top fame to remember? Am I fantasising? Or have I already died and am seeing my life flash before me?
My friends from the 60s tell me that 80s London made 60s London look like a teddy bears' picnic. I'm not old enough to remember the 60s but I do remember being seduced by the London Devil in the 80s.
Gulp!
You mean you had a date with Simon Price?
http://www.google.co.uk/imgres?imgur...1t:429,r:0,s:0
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