Last night I dreamed that I was walking in Saint Chad’s Park, past a music rehearsal studio, within which I could hear a beat combo practising. The song I overheard – which, in dreamland, I understood to be a Sleater-Kinney cover version – consisted of a single line, repeated over and over again: “Our milieu is that of Doctor Ludwig”. Very melodious.
More comforting than the dream I had last night.
I was in a railway carriage that had been converted for use as a home.
Radio 2 Disc Jockey Chris Evans told me he had arranged for a biker gang to come and kill me but continually apologised for doing so.
I used an ornamental carriage lamp to bash his brains out before making good my escape.
OSM As strange as the first part of this dream may be, I find something very comforting in knowing that ultimately you did bash the little ginger gits brains out.