Stromtle

https://www.metrotimes.com

Square object about an inch thick made of either cake, foam or even formed from thick cream(?). It had the talking face of the American comedian Jerry Seinfeld inset in the surface. It was some sort of party and there was lots of white wine about. The morning after I had to do something-

Ervunt

https://www.irishpost.co.uk

School trip with Alan McGhee and Zed (?), an older ex-secretary from my work. We are out at some kinda fortress/castle where we're all having a picnic. A Cop/Highway patrol guy turns up in a long hatchback car. Playing a tune that isn't, but sounds very like John Squire's 'Transatlantic Near Death Experience'. I run over to ask the cop. He looks a bit like Dennis Weaver (who played McCloud) and is really friendly, saying he thinks the music is '905210'(?) by Bachmann Turner Overdrive. He offers to let you hear it properly. Aye!-

So I go with him and his overweight South American deputy (who has since appeared) into a long wooden shack kinda outhouse building - loads of records on shelves on the r/h wall, the back wall covered in heaps of cds and a tv and video player. Records include The Smiths, Dandy Warhols, The Orb and loads of amazing Spiritualized super-boxed sets I've never seen, including some mega 5 VHS video pack and die-cast space toys. As I try to look through the stuff the deputy keeps moving things to deliberately obscure this and hide that from my view. Dennis meanwhile, is huddled pretty motionless in the corner, his back to me, moving stuff about at low level while unfamiliar music plays-

http://easternncnow.com

The deputy makes to exit. I suddenly, looking at the motionless Dennis, want to follow him - desperately - I now know what happens, I've been here before, but too late - the door is locked shut! I gingerly approach Dennis - I can sort of see from 3/4 back view he's now wearing some sort of white 'killer' mask on his face. I back off, grab up a stool and attack him! He blocks and a bloody fight involving, em, coathangers plus other junk ensues. I cannot bring myself to stab him in  the eye with scissors even though it would mean certain victory-

Eventually he's thoroughly beaten and I pulp and smack him from a distance with some metal stud partition uprights that I will subsequently use to batter open the outhouse door. Sight as I escape is a guy (could be the deputy?) with his hair shot down the middle so that to the sides it looks like mounds/devil horns - he's protesting-

Srummpl

https://nerdist.com

On an earth orbit bio-dome, akin to Silent Running but more stripped back - a simple helping of trees, ponds and pathways. Something tells me the dome is round but the footprint is square? The ponds are raised from the pathways - themselves made of orange training track surface - by about a foot and have thin grass verges around. I know in my head that this dome has regenerated itself. It used to be powered by solar or electricity and now runs on plant energy. I also have an idea that this cycle of regeneration is very quick. There is a False Cypress tree near the corner of a pond and it is broken at the root, lying drowned in the water. I take 3 or 4 small twigs from the tree above the water and know that if I plant them in the ground near the corner of a pond they will grow, and fast. Has everything here regenerated once before? I puzzle over the exact length of this process. Is my mother there? As I sit back to contemplate I realise I have sat on, and crushed, my glasses. Can I have them regenerate too?- 

In a circular lobby with a party of people. Everyone is young, jovial and having a good time. There is a big bubbly blonde girl who I seem to get on well with. This is the entrance to a museum or an exhibition. There is a sudden scrum to get in via a doorway and we are all crushed up against each other. I am part against the female member of staff and she notes, checking my lapel, that none of us have name tags. She manages to take a sticker from the sheet she has in her hand and stick the name 'Jaissin' on my jacket collar. I am amused by her spelling. I must remember and tell my friend Jay Emm, who is there? Thinking of his extravagant laugh? The tight, spiral stair down to the exhibition is in semi-darkness. The stair itself is made from what looks like a dishwasher rack, small, wiry 'U' shaped white loops underfoot and long white support wires running vertically down the sides. I expect this to not be able to support my weight and the moment is tense. The volume of people gives me no option and I am forced on anyway-

We emerge onto a dimly lit underground/metro platform and walk in the only direction we can. We reach a tight bar that runs along some of the platform length. It is walled at either side and open at the platform ends. This, by contrast, is well lit and a black guy and his 2 kids sit at the distinctly retro-styled timber bar. They are ordering cans of juice. I hope to squeeze pass but I cannot, it is not comfortable. He and his eldest son move out the bar to our side to allow us past. Unfortunately none of my group are ready to go - they are all partying in an underground coach. You can only see silhouettes inside and these striking silvery flashes as if triggered by the excited movement. Everyone is yelling and on occasion a bold hand appears, evidently touching the window, making for a startling silhouette effect-

I go on past the bar to the next dark platform. I have a headtorch on now. Ahead of me there is a group of 3 workers sitting eating sandwiches. They sit to the side of a tape cordon that fences off a part of the platform that has subsided on the left. To the right there is a grey, grimy and dilapidated looking coach. I pass them okay, carefully stepping over the cordon and negotiating the sunken structure underfoot. There are more groups of workers/employees further up the platform, all in hard hats and reflective jackets, all in groups of 3, all sitting eating sandwiches, illuminated by my headtorch. The furthest group are sitting not to the side but across the platform. I guess I cannot go any further. As I wait for the train/my group I overhear the middle guy from the group at my back talking about his job, saying, "...so I get to do some stand-up. Not very good..."-

Goturulut

https://www.planetdeadly.com

Three nuclear missiles launched. Explosions. Not like typical mushrooms. Lovely deep blue colour. I seemed to be near where they exploded. Trying to run in and out of their various blast zones. Saw on the news that nuclear war had not started. Very relieved. The missiles had seemingly landed in the sea(?). I then saw hundreds of missiles launched off into the sky. They each floated gently up into the air before some booster jets kicked in and they shot away off into the sky. Cannot remember whether I was actually in Scotland (Edinburgh?) or somewhere in Russia-

Uddule

https://talksport.com

I'm on this quiz show and the host, an Asian comedian who's really famous - only he doesn't exist in reality - and who looks like an overweight, squat version of Chris Kamara (with Samuel L. Jackson's Pulp Fiction-style hair) is asking the questions. Only a bit of the way in he starts doing this mad dancing to this groovy bassline and gradually everybody else joins in. Eventually about 7 folk are doing all sorts of weird moves, flashing by me as I plead with them to just stop-

Briuntal

https://www.dinosaurcorporation.com

Some sort of huge circular shelving, packed like IKEA's furniture warehouse. Only this is for toys and you enter though a great gap in a curved white wall. I am with both my brothers and we are wandering around in this vast place. I examine a Tyrannosaurus Rex on one of the shelves. Although it is facing towards (what looks like a chunky) Star Wars At-At I seem to know that it is intended to (somehow) pull it like a chariot. The T-Rex is fascinating as I keep thinking the texture and look of its 'skin' is very much like a Morton's Roll, crisp and a mottled brown- 

Young girl with long, delicate light brown hair. She has it tied up on top of her head and long and wispy at the back and sides. Simple clothes of a white t-shirt and denims, rolled up a little at the bottom to show white socks. She and her boy pal - it feels to me like one of them likes the other much more than he or she knows - have set up boat rides. Puzzled as thinking she needed money to acquire the boat to then try and make money. It's definitely her dream and she has worked hard for it. At times I'm sure she is on crutches, lifting her right leg-

Dream jump or cut and I am watching the moment where the boy leads the young harbourmaster and the girl's mother to the berth to show what she has been up to. She lies, stiff as a board, on her back in the bushes that look onto the jetty where the boat sits. Clearly picture the bottom of her legs, the white socks and shoes lying so still. Behind her is a knotted white polythene bag with the money she has made. I have a sudden flash of a bold black on white newspaper headline that reads "Dammit! There is nothing worse than a lack of cards!", lying across the ground. The girl lies quite still as the 3 other people chat and gesticulate. The girl is then right with them, making 4, and I hear, and am slightly puzzled by, the harbourmaster saying she had made 30 pounds that was in the white bag. When you try and divide that up by the boat rides and people it doesn't seem like a lot of money to make such a fuss. Then (I think) the boy says something - for some reason a noise prevents me hearing it - and the look on the girl's face is pure heartbreak, absolutely devastating. Then, as if the 5 of us are actors concluding a play - everything thus far has been outside and bright and airy - I walk from the bushes to join them and we go off to the left in single file, filing up past the end of the rows of watching audience in a dark auditorium. I am doing my very best to look calm and together in spite of the crushing sadness I feel inside because of the girl's upsetting and haunting look-

Luzzle

http://smartiescollector.com

Went into a shop. Eating a tube of Smarties. Looked up. Security guard just immediately pointing for me to leave. Rather taken aback by this I did so. I promptly walked past the huge glass store windows outside doing the “V” sign to him through them. He saw me and came running out after me. Ran down and into some snooker hall. Coming back out I dropped some loose snooker balls to slow the guard down. Then chased into a less busy market area a bit like those in Glasgow I seemed to be there looking for good places to get lost/hide. Eventually really crowded market and I hid in one of several big baskets. As the guard rummaged through these the Pakistani stallholders told him to treat their stock with some respect and beat it-

Orpuw

Me and my brother and my friend Jay Dubya, who is crashing at our (not normal) house.... The problem is myself and Jay are sharing a single headphone socket for our respective Bob Dylan live albums (I'm on Live 1966, he's on Live 1964) and he keeps pulling the jack out, subjecting my father to it through the wall - not that he cares as it seems he's blind drunk-

I nip to the bathroom and someone's dropped a full sized rug down the exceptionally large toilet. The next thing I know I've picked it out and am folding it up to dab my penis. Then, all that sorted with, the rug hung up to dry, my father appears, telling us how he's been out and about checking out old sights of criminal punishment - with the exception of where they used to hang folk - because going up there's a criminal offence these days...?-

Virtinse

At a house or someplace and there was a dog, like a greyhound with a more Dobermann-esque head, the characteristic pointed upright ears. It had a short, but spiky, dark grey-ish and green flecked coat. There was also a snake in the house and a cat, though it had a similar sleek body to the dog with a small head (but this was that of a puma or panther). I remember introducing myself to the dog and it playfully clamped my outstretched hand in its toothy jaws. The owner told me not to worry, scolding the dog? I tried the same technique with the cat but it was not interested. All the while I was mindful (scared!) of the snake as it seemed to be circling me a little menacingly, skirting about the floor and working its way closer. I again attempted to pat the dog and it proceeded to clamp my hand a couple of times, not letting go. Before I knew what was going on the snake had shot up my body and wrapped itself around my neck and shoulders. The cat then came for me too and I could feel the sharp pain in my neck as it bit twice into the back of it-

Abukerd

Working in a very tiny space. Had to prepare meals. Kay Gee's old job. Totally dodgy feeling. No room. Meal I had to prepare was brought through in parts. Plate of flat Yorkshire puddings and a plate of roast beef. Had to make sure the roast beef went on top of the pudding. Poured milk over them both. Had to get a plate from up off the top shelf. Really high up, had to climb up to get it. Lots of kettles full of boiling water there. Trying not to burn myself by spilling them. Power cords getting tangled round my legs. Very worried and scared-

Wajjik

https://www.npr.org

Sitting in a room having a chat with three other guys - one of whom was Jaws-era Richard Dreyfuss - and we'd all just finished filming our scenes as extras for Star Wars. Next stop we were off somewhere to film the Hoth scenes - for some reason I reckoned this would be Tunisia-

Next thing we're flying along in this light plane over what looks like a strip of waterlogged fields, puddles in bits, bits of fields in others... It's very bumpy on the plane, lots of turbulence, more like being in a boat on choppy waters. So eventually I had to say it was "a bit f**kin' bumpy!", only for them all to reply "we're glad you said that!"-

We land on this strip of field/water - I guess it was a seaplane - and get out. Only problem is there's not much of a road running down either side and carts keep scooting past soaking us from the puddles. So Richard gives it "the next car that comes along is getting it!" So as this white motor goes past he holds up his hand and makes the 'V' sign and turns to follow the trajectory of the vehicle with it. Only, and here we suddenly get very worried, it's a big white hearse! It skids to an immediate stop just up the road - meanwhile we're all in a panic making our way across the roads to hide in gardens(?) - and these two house painters(?) get out, a young guy and an old guy-

Last I remember is being resigned to being cornered and, having taken out the young painter guy by using a big brush to cover his entire face with white paint, I am gearing up to smack the older fellow one with a tin of paint-

Kerbid

https://www.glamour.com

I am at the top of a tall new building (which I am sure is replacing the Empire State Building in New York). I am very frightened as construction is (visibly) still underway and much of the environment is open to the air and I can feel and see everything flexing in the wind. My friend Jay Dee is maybe there, but Sigourney Weaver definitely is. At some moments the works seem quite finished, structurally sound and safe, and at others the structure seems to be simply timber and open to the elements (and I seem to be very much at risk). I am trying to avoid looking at the views of buildings - moving sea-like with every pitch of the construction - that remind my of my perilous location at the very top. I spend much of my time moving very, very slowly, crawling on my belly and desperately holding on for dear life-

In one instance I am in a very small flat consisting of two rooms. It has very low ceilings and a girl lies on a bed/mattress inset into the floor in one room. She seems quite happy to be living here up so high it's unsettling. The wind and rain batter against the curved windows which form the entire walls. The floor to ceiling is maybe only a metre, perhaps even less. I can still feel the distressing sway of the building. There is a sense that the area I am in is somehow not quite connected to the (more complete) structure of the building below. Is there a stair that I could get to to reach a more secure feeling vantage point?-

Entwift

Going for the train. Walking down with "fat Jay"(?). Got on the train. Gee EmmCeeAy was there and Kay Ell and Eee EmmCeeEll. Jay sat with some other folk. Totally run for the train? The seats were dead weird. Gee EmmCeeAy lying on top of the seat headrests on a raised level. The others talking together. Didn't know where to sit. Gee EmmCeeAy fell off the strange upper seats bit-

Gyorrt

Staying at a pals' house - they wake me in the morning saying we're done, that the world has succumbed to 'deep heat' - I can see this slightly because what I'm about to describe is somehow visible through the gap in the door they've peeked through to tell me all this... So I get up and get dressed-

Next thing I'm outdoors, where everything is all washed-out, autumnal colours - faded yellows, browns, kinda like archive footage. I'm in this wide square, busy with lots of concerned folk, walking about quietly talking amongst themselves. Two large, brown brick tower blocks (which I know are exactly 17 storeys high) are off to the left. The trees are absolutely still as there's no wind (but a sense of warm air lingers) and have the absolute minimum of leaves, one per branch. There's an odd sense of futuristic utopia coupled with absolute dread. The planet is screwed and so are we. "About time - a bit late" is what I told my pals as they went off to do some recycling-

Naturally I headed off to one of the tower blocks to wash my Adidas tracksuit top which was soaking in a basin of water there... As I reach the lower level 'open air' lobby area I pass this pudgy little kid singing a line from a hymn - like, but not, a sort of Spiritualized lament version of 'away in a manger'. This scene then repeats, the kid's singing freaking me out this time-

I'm then in a Land Rover heading out into the country where we encounter a farmer with a herd of cows on the road. The animals rampage past us up close, their eyes noticeably rolled back in their heads, the bloodshot whites right at the vehicle window. As we finally pass through a cow at the back breaks away, following us, dashing puppy-like round and round the motor as we go, quite enthusiastic and unafraid. Next thing we're standing in the road - the cow's been shot and is dying, lying in the middle of the road. There's also some bloke in a brown mac atop of it too. He's also been shot and, as he dies he says his name's something like "Wentworth"...?-

Burxle

Large silver cylinder (for making something?). Higher up is a grey corrugated flexible tube coming off from it, 2 feet in length, approx. 3 inches in diameter. From this comes condensed runoff. Seems my task to connect it into another similar tube to catch this moisture. I do this but still sporadically leaking/retconning and needing fitted again-

Surdammelli

http://bloody-disgusting.com

Aliens. Males and females (distinct by having the backs of their heads split into two, forming almost like horns). There are 7 of them. There are 5 or 6 of us (humans) on the spaceship. Killed some with an explosive tip bullet. Attacked by some and hacked them to bits with anything that came to hand. Came in through a gap in the lift. Blocking it up. We had all survived with only 1 Alien left when, waiting for it to attack, the scene changed-

Now in Greece, apparently the only place left in the world. Sea stretching for miles. All normal, the surviving Alien now looked like Sharon Stone. In a massive library full of Marvel graphic novels and the like. Stole money from a house and ran away, scared that I would be killed, hiding it in the ground. Wanted my University life back. To go home. Sharon Stone said our containment time was up... but somehow it overran. Had sex with her and a member of the crew. Feeling-

https://theredlist.com

Eventually got back onto the spaceship. Thought there wouldn't be enough oxygen. But Lurch (from the Addams Family) was at a control panel making things go okay. Seemed to have a couple of minutes but he saved the day. Computer screen-

Brofortyunn

https://alchetron.com

At a large outdoor park, slightly run-down with Kay Ess. A lion, that I recall from being there before, runs at us, veering off at the last second. We can't remember if the animals here are tame or not. I spot Frankie Boyle walking there, trussed up in his hatted disguise. I run over to him and ask him some questions, overjoyed when I remember to ask him about the comic he's working on. A leopard races by, baring its teeth. Kay Ess is upset, scared of the ponies that are eating in the stables. We cannot get past for fear-

Twephenx

https://www.discogs.com

Family and my father, my mother, my big brother and gran are there. We are on some sort of holiday, all rooming together. Have we climbed lots of stairs up to our room? There is some sort of concern about fire. We are all responsible for packing our cases of luggage and need to be ready soon. Seems we are leaving. I am sorting my clothes, thinking of the wardrobe I will spare to wear (for the journey?) and the rest that needs to be packed. I cannot, simply cannot think too straight as I can't find my underarm deodorant stick. The hunt for this is tense. I feel aware that as the tension rises I am getting sweatier underarm by the minute. A vicious circle. I eventually find the deodorant in my rucksack. It seems like everyone is expected to go for a shower but no one, my mother aside, wants to. Hear the sound of the shower running through the wall. My Dad puts the radio on and the music emanating from it I am quite sure is 'Digeridoo' by Aphex Twin. Through the static - it's not the best reception and it took a while even to find this station - I am sure it is that and I say to everyone that they should listen to it, or as much as they can stand, knowing it is heavy techno. The soft Irish voice of the DJ fades in over the intro and introduces the track. My dad sits quite still on the edge of his bed, hands in his lap and I watch, impressed, as he listens intently to the whole thing. The version we hear is not as hardcore as the actual recording, and many vocal samples dip in and out a more laid back interpretation, the music at times edging closer to the looping swooshes at the beginning of Prodigy's 'Skylined' [Narcotic Suite]-

Brazzle

In Ireland somewhere. Three of us being chased by a huge animal. Similar in shape to a crocodile but entirely furry. No eyes or anything visible. Chased into an L-shaped connecting street. Could not get out as the creature managed to predict us and block either exit each time, blocking us. Trying to predict when the smooth concrete facia were put on the buildings-

Krunfle

http://kingkong.wikia.com

Female King Kong. Scabby and emaciated, like the 30's version with a considerably skull-like face. Flying overhead, aiming to drop bombs, specifically aiming for the yawning mouth. Suddenly grow myself, becoming an equivalent in size to "FemKong". She then transformed into the old secretary from my work and I was suddenly unable to kill-

Blunnkeff

Hollywood composer Danny Elfman to be hanged. The gallows very basic timber construct, only the timber from which the noose was suspended was about 20 metres long! I seem to recall it was branded "FF" (or organised by) the Foo Fighters-

Lavvldes

At the University trying to see a film at the Uni cinema(?). Both films started at around 10:00am and I arrived later, at around 10:35am. The security guy suggested that as the clocks had gone back then the 4:40pm showings might be at 3:30pm. Weirdly this did not apply to the morning showings. I was confused. Met Kay Gee and she had a baby with her. Something to do with murder. Saw a police file with her picture on it. In the picture she had blotchy, reddish skin and looked quite fat. Modern platform lift. Folk waiting on it. When it arrived we all piled on – maximum load only 6 people so it slowly sank downwards. We all wanted to go up. When the load eased up we travelled to the fifth floor. Again the lift started to descend before I got off. I managed to get onto the little ledge part on the fifth floor. I started to fall down the lift shaft but a protective door came down and trapped my legs. Pulled through backwards to safety by Kay Gee and an old, bespectacled woman-

Unteth

http://www.imdb.com

Italian Job sequel. Advice imparted by a young Michael Caine. Backpacks filled with liquid and dust gold. Plan is to get away. March takes us under a barbed wire fence, pack tears as I shimmy there, slipping and sliding down a muddy slope at odds with the day's blended snow. Pack leaking gold as we tread across this stark landscape-

Herunklig

Demi Moore. Surprised at how natural and beautiful she looks, her face is young and smooth, moodily shot from the side like a b/w press photograph, and she appears (to my confusion) to have had no plastic surgery. She is naked and her nipples curve to the side around her bosom like long jelly beans. They almost seem like my own, and I peer over the top of these (exaggerated and oddly) curved forms. I am startled - quite fascinated - that she has a great triangle of dark, wiry pubic hair, sitting facing me with her legs spread unnaturally wide apart like goalposts-

I am at some sort of Glasgow Art School-esque concert venue. Corridor, akin to The Arches toilets area, with grey painted walls and darker grey doors leading off (to individual gigs?). I am talking to the organiser - has he come over to me to guide me to a specific concert room? - and he advised me that the sound from the main venue (outside?), known as "The Kristofferson Suite", visible through a glass door, won't bleed through and disturb what's happening where I am. We talk about Kris Kristofferson at some length and he describes a gig by him as "definitive". I mention that I missed him the last few times he'd been through town and we both agree it may have been the last chance. Do I then see myself shouting for the song 'Border Lord' at a concert? On my own I am listening, searching the corridors for what I am sure is the growling bassline of The Brian Jonestown Massacre's 'Dropping Bombs On The Whitehouse' track. I stop outside several doors and listen to see if they are playing inside. Is Joel Gion there? I think about him as a young, happy man, high on drugs and compare it with changes into the wine swilling, somewhat grizzled character he has become. He still seems happy, but I wonder if he is a sad drunk at heart. This greatly perplexes me-

http://nightflight.com

I am outside in a sort of winding passage-cum-courtyard - high white walls to the side, gravel path and patches of grass - and pass a fellow in a dapper blue suit with a thin moustache (who looks very like a young Spike Milligan). Having passed him I realise he has acknowledged me. It is (rather bizarrely) the comedian Peter Cook, who seems pleased to see me. He's asking me directions (to the venue entrance). Looking into the distance there is what seems to be an elaborate garden (now in some degree of disrepair). The scene is bathed in a cold sunlight. Peter - who I am directing to the cricket - has to head off into the passages to our left, from where I came, to the buildings to that side of the garden. I will continue over to the passages on the right-

On some narrow stone steps - that could be a ruin as it feels like I'm inside but also outside - I pass a class of schoolchildren being followed by their teacher. Two boys at the back are cheeky and she passes me a metal ruler, a "W" shaped one in profile, though a little flattened out, and encourages me to hit them on their exposed calves (they are wearing shorts). Then it seems I am following the party of kids. At one point they are all reciting and giggling. "Did you do that?!" asks the teacher angrily. I can hear some sort of playful rhyme that features "hobby" and "jobby". There is a sort of rope construct near where we are standing, comprising 3 ropes in a "V" formation, one rope to support each arm and a single rope below for your feet. This spans the short distance across to a slated roof, bathed in sunlight, where the offending rhyme featuring these words has been painted in white letters-

https://www.standard.co.uk

I am chatting to the comedian Julia Davis. We are talking about Kevin Eldon. I am then in a (function?) room with him. The walls are of a burgandy hue, interjected with black uprights. The whole feel is garish. He is talking away (to me?) and I remember him saying something about a TV programme he's come up with/is working on called "Celebrity Sandcastles"-

Lortret

University Professor Eff Dubya and his brother. They are talking about the 'building report' assessment. Big blue wooden slatted house, like that of the Addams Family, and similarly spooky. I drew it. Eff Dubya is talking about its unconventional design. Kenneth Frampton's Modern Architecture book. Pictures of frog corpses crawling with flies. Took a while to work out that an image was a huge empty frog eye socket with flies crawling all over it. All very transparent, a light green/lime colour. Eff talks about how if it is built then people will come to eat and that it did not have to be built in a certain place because people would come to it anyway(?). In the student halls at University. Met two Charlatans fans and we show off our t-shirts to each other. Other folk were asking who they were. One guy looked very much like my friend Enn Ess but it definitely wasn't him. Was wearing my “Tim Negative” Charlatans shirt at the time-

Dirinth

I confront my upstairs neighbour in the close, quizzing him about the bubbled dampness to my ceiling. I perch incredibly on the slim dado rail in the corner. He answers and exits suddenly. I then talk to a "corruption" of my neighbour in the fresh air, standing atop some suspended concrete garden. I thumb through my collection of sketches endlessly, searching for my successful caricature of him-

Hruddle

At some sort of function with Kay Emm. Cold white environment, all rounded surfaces and abuzz with conversation. I am chatting to Stuart Braithwaite from Mogwai. He is smartly dressed and looks exactly as per the Every Country's Sun online 'making of' videos. I leave-

Suddenly I am wiping my bottom, two dirty great streaked wipes (the paper viewed in grotesque close up). From behind me I hear, "maybe you should pull the curtain when you wipe your bottom..." I'm surprised to see Stuart grabbing a beer from a fridge, the line of the curtain over to my left. I casually say I could just use the curtain to wipe my bottom and he says I'd better not!-

Something that seems to be a thread throughout this dreamescape is about (audience/attendance) numbers of 1000 - 3000 - 5000 people, 1000 being poor with 5000 being the most desirable and profitable(?). This feels quite critical and the thought of these figures continually bothers me. See you around, says Stuart when he comes up to me and I hear he is leaving. I give him a friendly response-

Kay Emm and I seem to be in a great labyrinth of a theatre. It has a plush red carpet and off-white walls throughout. I meet two guys and explain what I am doing(?) but at this point I only have an old print of my Burning Orphanage comedy script, with its plastic spine and biro amendments by myself. I feel it should be something else and the lack of this document confuses me and I stutter... What I should have in my possession relates to some sort of quiz/task that Kay Emm and I are appaently undertaking(?). I almost get in a fight or sense impending violence with one of the guys. We are walking outside and I am feeling tense, quite prepared to fight him, and he seems to feel the same towards me. I am not sure of the other guy either. See spray painted letters of "S" and "D", gold on a black timber background when we are walking. These relate somehow to the tasks we're undertaking. Kay Emm and I supposed to be collecting (proper versions of) these gold letters hanging on the theatre walls inside? When I am back with her - no idea how much time has elapsed - I recall she wants to go back outside with me to see these letters, but I really don't want to, being wary of the threatening guy-

Drinking with Vee Dee and we have three shots in quick succession. Next I know we are both standing in intense pain with numerous holly leaves stuck and caught in our clothing. I work out we have run through a holly bush in a sudden blackout of complete drunkenness and that I have a branch of holly jammed in just above my groin. The holly bush sits high on a white rendered/painted wall and drapes over the top, the drinks table/outlet we must have been stumbling for beyond it. Where the branch is jammed into my belly is really painful and, like the many leaves caught in my jumper, I'm definitely aware it needs to be pulled out. Sort of see the burial point in my skin in close up, the skin folding in, the branch jutting neatly out-

Luglit

Afternoon. Goes by. I miss a Critique/Presentation at University and the later The Charlatans concert. It is 7:41pm and the gig starts at 8:00pm. No way I will make it. I kick the VHS video clock. It jumps back to 7:33. Then switches off. Broken. My father comes in and starts commenting-

Wirrukle

http://womenandhollywood.com/

Myself and Heather Graham, talking to Eee Eff from my school days. We laugh about how everyone said he had a small penis at school and yet now it is an astonishing 13 inches long! I pick at a hole in the fabric of my dreamescape and a bee emerges. Soon there are 1000s of them, a whole swarm. I think how I should maybe run to the shower and switch it on, spraying water over the bees, drenching their wings, their sodden corpses piling up in the bath at my feet-

Sereppin

Myself and Kay Emm in a car. She is driving. Tightly packed network of inner city roads, some passing overhead, with crash barriers at the verge. Slightly claustrophobic. Varying between 2-3 lanes. No oncoming traffic, only appears to flow in one direction. Busy, travelling at 50mph or so. Startled to see a dog running, keeping pace with the traffic. It is a Dobermann Pinscher and is weaving in and out of the speeding vehicles, reappearing every time I anxiously suspect it has been hit/killed. Another 2 dogs join in this tense race of death, enthusiastic, running close to the car, accelerating past, continually dodging and weaving. At one point the traffic slows and there are concrete slab paths (inset in red chuckie stones) to the side of the road(s). A thick set brown/yellow-ish dog darts off at one such path - much to our relief - and runs alongside a pedestrian in a white shirt and kilt-

Arrive at a University(?) destination and enter a large foyer. It has a dark, almost black, mottled vinyl flooring and a high ceiling. Large windows ahead give a bright and spacious feel. What looks like great metal wind chimes - actually matt finished steel rods of different lengths - hang from a similar circular support (itself suspended from the ceiling) a few metres in diameter. Myself, Kay Emm (and now) Jay Emm spot Vee Dee flanked by two official looking gentlemen. I try and catch his (weary) eye as he converses with them. He wears a slight hang-dog expression of surprise when he notices us, and holds the pose for a long time. There is a stair from a floor below over to our right and a large circular architectural model - that I somehow envisioned/suspected completes the scene? - begins to emerge, carried by a number of people. It is made of timber and white plastic tubing, demarking some sort of ribbed exterior feature. Everyone joins in in the effort to attach the model to the metal rods, each one seeming to correspond to a rib on the outside. We are all scrunched up close trying to match these up-

Man comes from tree. Tree from the norm-

Tyannegt

Setting is China or Japan. Rainy, damp day. Running at full pelt up a road to a house. I go in, collect something, then leave. Come running out and the other guy (a Chinese equivalent of my older brother) who is running towards me at first then diverts off up another road and into another home to get something. I realise if I am running along the road I will get caught (by?). I run up a guy's driveway and cut through his garden onto a cobble path that stretches down to the sea (which is some distance away). There are gardening plots/allotments on either side of the path. Absolutely race down this shiny and slippy path, leaping over the people I come to. Eventually I reach the sea. Boats out on the water. Very choppy/rough sea. I swim out to a two funnelled ship and scramble aboard-

The crew then assemble and are going to kick me in. A fight ensues and I am kind of using a mop handle to fend them off, winning until a big butcher guy turns up (armed with a “mini-sickle” weapon)-

Think I lose a finger. Think I've had it. Only two guys left by now but I am cornered. When I chop the butcher's arm off and boot him over the side the other (and final) guy runs up to me with a bit broken off the ship's nameplate-

I think I kicked him over the side and-

Hertle

Shrunken, battered hands, knotted, the fingers twisted out of sight, bloated from the blood swelling inside. I deny that I have destroyed them punching walls-

Fulgey

At work and participating in some sort of festival (to do with American Indians - though our office is not dressing up - and I am at the head of our people chain). Ess Tee - seemingly frozen in a perpetual sarcastic kinda hang-dog expression - is part of our group. I can see guys, dressed 100% as per the cliche movie Indians, flooding from the doorways and entrances of offices around us, all heading for some central tower. The front guy of every group is dressed up. As I am not in costume I decide to affect an exaggerated and stuttered hop from one foot to the other, arching over and mimicking (but not actually making) the classic "woo woo woo!" Indian sound with my hand and mouth. I sense my hopping is increasingly out of time and misjudged, the rest of the chain doing their best to copy my movements. Aware of the lines and lines of people converging on the central tower. Do we divert? Or am I distracted? But suddenly I am in a queue and presented with a huge plate/tray of food drowned in a thick, red, salsa-esque sauce. I should know the food I am being handed - it's meat, I'm sure - but it looks like donuts of some sort underneath-

"I cannot believe it's been a year", I say. I am really obsessed on this point, repeating it out loud and in my head over and over. I just cannot understand how the gap between festivals (?) is a year and it seems I'm repeating the experience immediately. As I'm thinking and trying to discuss this-

I'm on a bike - but am I jangling keys in my hand? - cycling out and about in a typically Stranger Things suburban outskirts-meets-rural area. Two(?) other kids are cycling up ahead of me. I feel I'm still struggling with, and arguing, the notion that it cannot have been a year. It's not possible for time to pass so quickly. Suddenly this kid called Arge, in classic skinny white tee and immaculate styled bowlcut, and myself are on the one bike having decided to take a shortcut or make our own way. Oddly, as we slowly traverse the rough, mossy, damp terrain ahead of us, the ground covered in a fine coating of browned pine needles, he seems to be underneath the bike's frame, looking up at me and talking to me from under the wheels. I tell him to watch his head on the wheels as we negotiate a particularly humpbacked peice of ground, worried that he'll be squashed. Quickly the POV is up very close to the ground - almost as if it's some sort of 'front wheel cam' - as we negotiate the hill. See the wheel easing its way over the grass with considerable effort. We pass a knife - I know instantly it's a knife though it's retracted and in a neat black leather slipcase with a silver keyring at one end. It's stark and black, crisp and neat against the damp grass. Then creep past very slowly, gingerly passing a sharp-featured, clean-cut youth - the knife owner - asleep on his back. So very close as we inch by in 'front wheel cam' mode. Notice he is very clean shaven but for a single hair, about a centimetre long and dark, growing out from between the underside of his nose and top lip. Once we are past we look back, a wider shot, and he sits up on his elbows and challenges us, mentioning using his knife against our "shitty penknife"-

Turrkab

https://www.ocado.com

Gee MickAyy and I walking along the Largs seafront. Pass the large block of flats where Cee EmmCeeDee lives. Didn't seem so at first, but we were being followed by two youths with a Windolene/Jif squirter thing. Seemed intent to spray it in our faces so I thought. Turned a corner and using the time whereupon we were obscured from their view we set about picking up large stones which were strewn on the pavement. Confrontation seemed imminent-

Vrinple

My neighbour's voice sounds throughout the house, uncannily close and clear. Echos of her phonecall and image remain, lingering beyond my bedroom door, in the hall, in the hall cupboard. She is in the close-

Klovvim

http://ttte.wikia.com

Thomas The Tank Engine live action movie. There is some controversy as the UK version we all know and love is considered an abomination as it has been changed considerably from the original French(?) version – a sort of pink, very cartoony-faced engine with clock hands on his nose*? Rowan Atkinson seems to be very vocal in his criticism of these alterations. Then, appearing is if on a branded image - curved logo below, blue sky background - I see (what I know is) the Fat Controller's face only he's played by a grinning, hatless Christopher Eccleston. I am puzzled by this and try to think of a suitable alternative actor and-

www.abebooks.com

*This is in fact a variation on Sammy The Shunter.

Berdle

https://en.wikipedia.org/

In a room. The Charlatans drummer John Brookes and the (young) actor Fred Savage are present. BTE 1B assessment. All had about 15 minutes to complete it. Going to work at the Presto supermarket dairy department at 11 o'clock? Hair wouldn't stay in place so used milk/pure orange juice on it. Nelroy(?) was working on scaffolding in Cunningham Drive-

Chuntinnet

https://northernreaction.wordpress.com

Grant Morrison thumps a crooked tool on the steel plate lid, the child to be revived and reborn stirs in the confines of the half wine barrel below. Grant intimates success and the warped snuffles suggest that it is so-

Hirflinn

https://www.pinterest.co.uk

I'm with Tim Burgess in a sort of dimly lit student union environment. We've been discussing/analysing a sort of burger-like construct, made from 3 or so layers of greeny/yellowy thick plastic piled on top of each other. Are there words written on it? Not sure if we've even been responsible for assembling it. He seems very thin, dressed in a smart, skinny-fit black shirt with matching jeans. I see his body, lanky and hunched together in the seating, worryingly so, his arms and torso about the same width, but not his face. I sense, rather than see, he has the strange dyed-black pudding-bowl cut of 2010's Who We Touch. Martin Blunt, looking wired and lairy has arrived and is very much 'in our face'-

http://www.jwpagency.com

Desperate for something to say I say I'm desperate for something to say, eventually mentioning that I had seen Brian Auger's Oblivion Express - with a spritely Alex Ligertwood in tow - in concert. I marvel and enthuse about Brian Auger being 75 years old and putting in such a spirited and energetic performance. The pair of them agree about his continued Hammond Organ skills. In the midst of this (in)tense conversation I see Mark Collins and Tony Rogers arrive. They are carrying a thin striped camp bed mattress each, complete with a (loosely) fitted sheet, and proceed to bed down on the floor of the union behind where we're seated and-