Kluhcin

My old Studio colleague Dee Arr and the (Animal Kingdom) actor Luke Ford are attempting to revive a rangy dreamescape version of The Incredible Hulk, his arms covered in tattoos, moptop hair perched on a gnarled, goggle-eyed face complete with hook nose and a mean, downturned mouth – very sombre and unsettling looking.

Eee EmmCeeVee (from my work) is quizzing me over a kettle – do I show him I've poured out the boiling water? - as Dee and his cohort succeed in inducing the Hulk to raise his arm-

Citsreg

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I am playing in an Old Firm (Rangers vs Celtic) football match (in dreamescape name only). Neither team sports a recognisable strip of any sort, being casually dressed (and as such both 'sides' are virtually indistinguishable). Not only that but the game is being played in two square rooms separated by a short flight of several steps – these exit one room at the top left corner, entering the next at the bottom right corner. Does someone kick the ball out a window?-

Nortle

I am holding the (Braw Books - Sketch Sunday) baby, a hand under each armpit. It is covered in a myriad of tiny tattoos and has a crescent moon-shaped scar, yet to fully heal, on each bare buttock (as if it has been deliberately sat in broken glass... by me?)-

I am in a sort of cafe/restaurant, all rustic and rickety, bright and airy. A lady, Kay Cee, from my work keeps making jokes about bl*wjobs and is eventually asked outside to explain her rude conduct. It is 3:30 and we are already packing up (our work?) to finish at 4pm. I make a joke about our (architectural?) project, saying we should have put an "egg shop" in the rear courtyard (of our housing project) instead. Everyone, including Kay Emm, finds this hilarious, even when I repeat it a second time-

I am with another work colleague Ay Dubya and we are pleading with a (Sun newspaper) photographer not to publish photos of us trying to fix her computer (on company time... with the Taxpayer's money!). But, then again, aren't we doing it during our lunch hours?-

tardis.fandom.com/wiki/

I am chasing the actor Paul McGann's brother – who IS Paul McGann! - down the street. He's surrounded by a gaggle of teenage girl fans and I can do nothing but hang back and wait my turn-

Broeht

I am outdoors in a (Glasgow?) park and am about to attend a concert by The Orb. There is no one there due to the Covid-19 pandemic and the simple box stage, which looks distinctly amateurish, is empty. I walk down a gently grassy slope and I see a second stage where Alex Paterson, replete with bucket hat, stands behind a set of record decks. He is to my left hand side and to his right there's a woman – his dreamescape wife? - with thick rimmed NHS glasses and frizzy strawberry blonde hair. She is at a set of records decks of her own.-

Paterson spins records by The Orb while a (Black Lives Matter?) protest march is dispersing. Paterson peeks behind the stage (at what looks to me like nothing more than a bunch of town market stalls being dismantled) and, somewhat disgruntled in spite of his chilled demeanour, says, “the young people of today...” I suddenly realise now that Alex has emerged from behind his set of decks that he is not wearing any trousers or pants – his thick, stubby, rope-like p*nis points straight down, firmly sandwiched between his thighs. He has no pubic hair. He is puzzling to himself as some young white males, who exude the classic 'matey-with-underlying-threat' vibe pass by, Paterson evidently at something of a loss as to what he should play next-

Mitnoj

I am on a blustery beach and I am both talking to, as well as watching, The Charlatans singer Tim Burgess.

Their late drummer Jon Brookes, if not exactly present, is certainly swirling about in the fabric of the dreamescape. Tim is talking about the drug Meribone/Meridone(?) and how it makes him float above the waves – it does! He then proceeds to talk about standing on the shore and taking a piss, conscious of the early evening tide coming in at his back-