Wednesday, 22 July 2020

Dream Grabzzz....

I am talking to the guitarist John Squire and he categorically states that there will be no new Stone Roses material-

I have taken it upon myself to join my friend Haitch EmKay on his holiday in Croatia – seems it's a very last minute decision on my part. We are outside the hotel, on a large external balcony (that ought to be) in the sunshine. Except it is snowing. I can see the snow gathering on a large glass canopy that slopes from the building's edge to the ground. I remark to Haitch that he'll not be putting photographs of this on Facebook-

I am on a bus, travelling with my old friend Cee Cee. He's seated somewhere up the from and is behaving in a very (typical) boorish manner, and keeps pointing me out to the other passengers. I have pulled the hood of my jacket up and over the back of my head to hide my face. An Irish girl, talking loudly, walks down the aisle, mentioning me-

I am on the floor of a room, jostling with a huge spider which dodges me at the other side of some kitchen table furniture-

I am with my friends Dee Bee and Dee Arr. There is a powder in a plastic tub with a small flip-top lid inset into the surface. This contains “suicide powder” (that I cannot help but think of as “suicide paste”-

Critic (Dee Pee of The List magazine?) who is able, by using a system of concise and pointed trolling to then reduce the (dreamescape) gone-to-seed comedian Alan Davies – who here has lanky, greasy hair and is considerably overweight – to near tears by gently accosting him backstage(?) and uttering a single, hushed word-

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