Gnilbis

I am at the flat of my work colleague Arr EmCeePee and his mother and I am with local cartoonists Kay Ess and Tee Cee. I've always known Tee Cee had some sort of serious eye condition and here it is quite evident, tears continually streaming from each eye and, oddly enough, exceptionally damp hands-

Dinner is a steak, although it looks uncooked, being pale and slick, less a slice of meat and more like an internal organ (but knowing Arr's a committed foodie I'm not too concerned). It's not very well cooked however, and the meat is raw and bloody when I cut into it-

Arr shows us three pieces of his art and I have to say I am very impressed – the principal larger work is of delicate winged male sprites/faeries, rendered in acrylic paints with washes of watercolour and very fine ink linework on top for definition-

Arr has left. The TV is on. Unfortunately Tee drips some tears onto this amazing art and leaves sweaty indents on the back with his fingers. I try to dry the piece from the back and accidentally tear it too. Tee and Kay head off to get Tee's repair kit(?), leaving me alone (but safe in the knowledge Tee's exceptionally skilled with his hands and art and ought to be able to repair it as good as new).-

A BT repair man arrives – at least it's not Arr! - and helps Arr's mother. On their return Tee (and Kay) proceed to fold the paper along my tear, smoothing it down (very) flat with a steel rule. Arr now returns and is not in the least concerned about the accidental damage!?-

Ssikwonk

It is grey and wet and (to the soundtrack of Acetone's 'Every Kiss') the guitarist Mike Lightcap and myself and my old school friend Ay EmCeeEll are riding dirt bikes along excavated roadworks. We are then biking on the sidewalk, driving over fallen protective plastic barriers and jumping over the gaps-

Acetone - Every Kiss

Then (to the sound of Acetone's 'All you know') I am playing football (but with a baseball) with 3/7(?) others in a sunken square pitch. The game seems a bit hard to follow – I am not really sure what's going on – but it's certainly very competitive. Michael(?) from work is there, as droll and serious as ever-

Acetone - All You Know

Remut

I am sitting in an ill-defined (dreamescape) cafeteria space with the lady Cee Cee from my work (and 2 to 3 a.n.others). We seem to be discussing cheesecake – has someone brought one in to work? - and it looks like Cee Cee has missed the opportunity to grab a slice. It just so happens I have a triangular slice of my own which, as it happens, is both homemade and half-eaten. I offer the remaining half to Cee Cee. She really doesn't know what to say. I mention that it was made by my mother-in-law and that, “I'm pretty sure I don't have Coronavirus.” (Is my little brother there, disapproving?) Besides all this I am somewhat concerned as I have a small kitchen knife with me, a 3 inch sharp blade into a rubbery burgandy handle. It is wrapped loosely in a crumb filled paper napkin-

I am preparing to do the washing up and I lift a mug from the basin to turn it the correct way up. It spills a mix of granola cereal and cooked rice with turmeric onto the (white) worktop – I curse myself for not attending to it earlier. Is my brother again present, scoffing at me? I hurry to scoop up the rice from the worktop (which has a sort of odd, inset plughole too) and notice that it is already leaving spotted yellow stains-

Camrick

I am with the musician and singer Nick Cave and we are having a discussion, something along the lines of addiction and I comment that my obsession with ??? is kind of like taking heroin... before hastily backtracking with a, “well, not really...”-

I am talking with the musician Mr. C and am waxing lyrical about Leftfield's 'Space Shanty', saying how I heard it playing in the shop HMV and that it is a stellar example of 1990's techno, that it is well and truly 'up there' with the very best the decade has to offer. Mr. C has a sly grin on his face – I cannot tell if he genuinely agrees or if he is humouring me (because he thinks I'm talking absolute crap)-

Leftfield - Space Shanty

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-