The other day I talked Coops into lending me his entire Police uniform which I proceeded to wear whilst walking around my neighbourhood.
My reasons for wanting to wear it were quite clear in my mind; I assumed, quite rightly as it turns out, that the mere presence of a man in uniform would totally eliminate crime in my ‘hood. So there I was, walking around like I owned the place, as big as shit.
Nobody asked me if I was a cop, they didn’t need to, I had the uniform and the mirrored aviators, so there was no question that I was. But it’s an important point I make because a week later I strode into Coopsies home station expecting the admiration of every bugger in the place.
When they finally worked out that I wasn’t actually a copper and it was his uniform I was wearing (whilst impersonating a Police officer) the shit hit the fan. He got a censure and I got drop kicked out of the station.
Now that’s gratitude for you huh? You try and help someone out and all you get is grief. Only it never actually happened. It was only a dream I had one night last week. Admittedly it was pretty weird, as far as dreams go, but it was still a complete work of fiction.
That morning I awoke, thought to myself ‘what a weird dream’, had a wank in the shower and went to work. I wanted to tell people about it but I didn’t because I knew that it was, as far as weird dreams go, complete arse and no one would get it.
But then that’s true of all dreams and yet how many times has someone tried to tell you about something that never actually happened to them in the first place? If you’re really unlucky you might get to hear about a dream that someone else they know had...that’s twenty wasted minutes of hearing about something that never happened to someone you haven’t even fucken met!
So please don’t tell me about your dreams, especially if you are a crazy cat collecting, lonely DVD lady.
Except the kinky sexual ones. Those you can tell me about.
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