I was shocked when I woke up this morning. Cold, horrible shock because seconds earlier I'd been nailing a very tasty piece who I met years ago and I would have quite liked to remain doing so.
In that strange process of coming to terms with reality, I had to wonder about this *****. That was a woman who I never really spoke to, and haven't seen in something like fifteen years. I have never, ever, consciously fantasised about her, and she was completely off my radar in terms of socialising and trying to get laid.
w/t/f? Where did my subconscious even get the inspiration to conjure this scenario? I absolutely do not get it, why would I have this *****?
By way of interest, I don't get the other variety either, the ones where things don't quite go according to plan. I once dreamed that Leona Lewis (a singer) dropped her handbag and I picked it up and ran after her to give it back. She thought she was being accosted by an over eager fan and maced me in the face (spray, thankfully, not the iron variety). Still, even though it was dreamland my eyes stung to buggery and I couldn't see for ****. I just had to back away while I tried to explain that I wasn't that kinda guy.
What is all this stuff about? I can't be bothered to google and actually find out, but I thought you guys might have some good stories and ideas on this subject.
In that strange process of coming to terms with reality, I had to wonder about this *****. That was a woman who I never really spoke to, and haven't seen in something like fifteen years. I have never, ever, consciously fantasised about her, and she was completely off my radar in terms of socialising and trying to get laid.
w/t/f? Where did my subconscious even get the inspiration to conjure this scenario? I absolutely do not get it, why would I have this *****?
By way of interest, I don't get the other variety either, the ones where things don't quite go according to plan. I once dreamed that Leona Lewis (a singer) dropped her handbag and I picked it up and ran after her to give it back. She thought she was being accosted by an over eager fan and maced me in the face (spray, thankfully, not the iron variety). Still, even though it was dreamland my eyes stung to buggery and I couldn't see for ****. I just had to back away while I tried to explain that I wasn't that kinda guy.
What is all this stuff about? I can't be bothered to google and actually find out, but I thought you guys might have some good stories and ideas on this subject.
