I worked all through Sunday night (and into Monday morning) in a boring job.
Monday daytime I didn’t sleep properly, so Monday night I fell asleep about 9pm.
I woke up about 11.30pm, realised I wasn’t about to get up and start cooking now, so, still hungry and missing an evening meal – I went back to sleep.
I’ve woken up at least twice since then, and it’s currently 5.32am as I start writing this, but I’m not annoyed. In fact, I’m actually quite happy.
Yesterday, I spoke to someone in a paid professional capacity, about several things. These included the fact that for the last few weeks, all the dreams I can remember upon waking are about me being attacked, or my untimely death. I’ve been attacked by everything from moths to wasps to a yeti. I’ve been shot at by a laser cannon and attacked by a crazed woman brandishing a serrated bread knife. I’ve traveled through time to attempt to stop an attacker by poisoning him first, and failed.
Last night, I had a dream where I didn’t die. I wasn’t even attacked. Go unconscious me! And I thought I’d share it here so anyone who reads this knows how crazy my brain is when I’m not awake.
To start with, I was part of what appeared to be a real life episode of Red Dwarf, which for some reason guest-starred David Tennant in part, as a kind of spoof of himself as Dr Who.
Tennant was turned into a chicken. Not a live chicken – no. A barbequed, nicely cooked chicken.
So well cooked in fact, that it was difficult to keep him from being eaten while trying to find a way of changing him back.
The woman who had carried out the conversion took the chicken, and then invited us to eat him. We all declined, except Rimmer. Which is odd, as he’s a hologram and doesn’t have to eat.
She also possibly cast some sort of weird spell on us.
The others hastily disappeared, I tried to find her, and must have managed to do so, as I was busy trying to knock her by hitting her with a broom when it was suggested I retreat, as the rest of them had discovered the now-secret location of the chicken.
The room was filled with a table, several members of Red Dwarf, a cooked Tennant-chicken, me, and shelves upon shelves of baseball caps. On each, a logo of meaning emblazoned on the front, and underneath each, a bowl of cooked sausages.
The logo on the front corresponded directly to who was featuring in the sausages, but I couldn’t fathom most of them out.
It was somehow common knowledge that the eating of the sausages would remove a part of the person whose essence had been stolen from them (and added to the recipe). Physically. If you ate a couple of sausages made from a person, they might (wherever they were in real life) shrink by an inch, for example.
Lister had a great idea that if he ate the sausages made from his own essence, nothing bad would happen. Upon eating half a sausage and feeling a tingling sensation in his fingers as they were possibly about to shorten, he gave this up.
At this point it became apparent, that this wasn’t real. I wasn’t really there. This was a film being shown at a film/TV production college of sorts. We were all watching it in a big cinema and I was sat near someone from The Inbetweeners, and some little kid I recognised from something, but still aren’t quite sure what.
Upon leaving the cinema by the appropriate exits, I found myself in what I’m told was Jonathan Ross’ house. He has a TV production school in his house? Of course!
In fact, it seems I was being given a tour of the place. TV production school one minute, then a meander along a very long balcony-type walkway.
Somewhere on a lower floor (which I could see due to the atrium-type design), Phillip Schofield was filming something for This Morning. It was a band performing on the show (although recorded, and from a different location for some reason?) There was a cameraman on one of those metal rollercoaster things they put cameras on to track alongside people walking/running from one place to another (not sure what they’re called. I don’t work in the film industry).
This place was bigger than any stately home I’ve ever been to. It made Longleat House look like a 2 bedroom terrace. There were multiple kitchens with staff, and some sort of talent agency upstairs. You could probably have filmed a Top Gear track lap in one of his living rooms.
Also taking the tour with me was a guy I haven’t seen since college, and someone I’m sure I know in real life, but whose name I just can’t remember.
The exit from all this was at the top floor. I think the property is built into some sort of hollowed out mountain – the sort only usually reserved for Bond villains.
On the way out, as I opened the front door, I swore in passing at how ridiculously huge this place was, and immediately got disapproving looks from the OAPs who were playing golf in a small section of his front garden.
My friend apologised on my behalf, and we left across several fields.
Nearby, there was a kind of square of businesses. I commented on how convenient it is to have a huge house, but still be nearby all the local facilities. I then noticed the Tesco Express was actually shut down. A larger Tesco had opened across the road, but had also shut down.
Several offices had been emptied.
But every one of these buildings had a “SOLD” sign stuck on the outside. My friend joked Ross had bought them all to expand his empire. I never found out if this was the case.
Apparently we were missing some kind of party at the JR complex, so we headed back. My friend from college had to go (though I hadn’t spoken to him once, throughout the entire dream. Which is also the case in real life, for the last couple of years).
On my way back up the hill to a side entrance, I passed the former MP Neil Hamilton leaving with a woman. He said “well, well, Ben Park” and gave a look as if he was annoyed with me. I immediately apologised but I’ve no idea what for. I chased after him for a bit and he told me “no, no. Don’t you worry. I’ll talk to my estate agent about it tomorrow”.
After he’d left, I queried who the other woman was, to my friend. He told me Christine and Neil had split up ever since what I had done, re the property/estate agent. I still don’t know what I did.
Back to the party (taking place in a side garden of sorts), various actors/actresses I recognised, may have even known what show they were from, but wasn’t aware of their real names.
Jonathan Ross had invited someone to this party, who worked as a full-time Jonathan Ross lookalike. He was so good, I struggled to tell them apart, except that the lookalike had a very strong cockney accent, so had to engage in conversation with him to work out if I was talking to the real one or not.
My friend wanted to leave and was giving me a lift, even though he wasn’t going in my direction really. There was the suggestion he might give me a lift to a train station and I might get home that way. I remember thinking I could call my girlfriend to pick me up from Temple Meads.
I tried to find the real Ross to say goodbye, managed to, but upon telling him I was off, he said “you should stay until after….” and I misheard the end of the sentence. Before I could say “sorry – after what?”, I woke up, still wondering what I was waiting for.
And here I am now. I’m going to go back to sleep and see if I can find out.
I do hope it isn’t “….after we restrain you with a yeti, carve you into sausages, and feed you to the cast of Red Dwarf, and a chickenified version of David Tennant, while Neil Hamilton films it for Rightmove.co.uk”.
Later edit: I didn’t get back to sleep, so don’t know what would/might have happened next.
Edit2: Today (17th November) is Jonathan Ross’ birthday. That would explain why he’s having a party. Happy Birthday!