On weird dreams
All my life I've had two blokey dreams:
1. My life as the best footballer in the world, rising from teenage prodigy at Weymouth FC to winning the Premier League with the mighty Arsenal. I still occasionally have this dream, which often results in a knee-high tackle from the wife when I kick her in bed
2. The one where I captain a heavily-armed spaceship, crewed by a sexxxy crew of my chosing, based, in part on the classic BBC Micro computer game Elite. Right on Commander!
So why, I ask, am I suddenly having dreams where I am playing baseball?
There I am, out on the plate at the bottom of the ninth, two strikes dowm two men out and the ball in flight toward my face...
I don't even like baseball and only had a fleeting regard for rounders at school on account of [name redacted] in a miniskirt.
My only theory on this bizarre train of events is that some poor bastard's falling out of his bed in Pigdick, Ohio saying "Soccer? I don't even like soccer!"
The ball in flight toward my face...Then I woke up and my pillow was gone.