books, basketball and mad mullahs

i can only remember fragments of this dream.
i am out looking for a book. i need this book i have a pressing need for it. i have to have it. (i have no idea what type of book it is or why it is so important...) i am looking all over the place. i am in a big shop that is the main one in the area and i am looking for the book, but it is one of those stores that has a little bit of everything but also appears to be someones front room. (it is a maniac cross between asda, woolies and the local musty charity shop...) i keep looking here and there i can't see the book. i go to ask someone and then i can see that they are taking a copy of the book down from a very high shelf. in order to do it they are using a pair of tongs.
for some reason this offends me and i storm out.
i am in a busy street and i am about to cross the road to look for another shop to look for this book.
i can see a group of people standing on the pavement. they all seemed to be bearded. each of tem appears to have a mouth piercing, but the piercing glows...
as i walk by them one of them says something to me.
i think he is insulting me. i challenge him.
"don't you remember me?" and other such things are said at me, someone who is remarkably like osama bin laden, but wearing an old combat jacket, his piercing glows blue.
i do recognise him. he used to support the same basketball team.
we embrace like long lost buddies and get on with the important things in life and talk about basketball.

exs

i have been having lots of dreams featuring my ex recently. i am not sure why i am dreaming so much about her, it is bad enough i still bear the emotional scars of it all, but to keep having to relive her in my dreams is justs cruel and unusual torture.
i can't remember much about this dream other than the fact me and the ex were naked and were going to get down to doing it, when her son interrupted it all.
i think the reason he interrupted was sort the preulde to an action movie type thing but i can't be sure.


the other dream i had was that i was in an anime that featured lots of fire and caves (oh ok hell) but i was 3d and they were all 2d. most odd.

meals but not on wheels

i am in a resturant with someone from work. we are not out on a work do as i am thinking about how we are going to split the bill - straight down the middle or work out who ate what.
the meal has been very nice.
all the staff are female, and have been exceptional.
we are thinking about going but then we are offered desert. we are tempted. then i notice that a change has come over the waitress. where as before they had been smartly but pimly dressed, now there seems to be an edge of sensuality about how they are dressed. i notice one as she leans over to serve another table, and she is showing a lot of breast. another is showing a lot of leg and her stocking tops are showing.
i am looking at the desert menu. it is all wonderful. big bright colours, obviously all full of e numbers. the deserts are all in wacky shapes and no idea of what they are, but all are tempting.
the waitresses are fliting about, hanging around our table as if we are the most important people in the world. we are enjoying the view.
i want to have desert - partly because it looks so tempting and partly because i want to make this meal last as the eye candy is so scrummy. but i can't work out what is on the menu, the pictures look great but i can't make out what the stuff is.
i ask the waitress, she comes and sits in my lap. whispering in my ear asking me what the problem is.
i ask her what each of the deserts are made up of.
she looks at me oddly, as if to say are you mad or stupid?
she points to the menu, and suddenly i can see that beneath each picture there is a clear description. she gets up in a bit of a huff.
the resturant returns to normal.

wombles

there i am standing outside a shop, not unusual for me. but this is a closed shop and it is an olde worlde style shoppe. i am looking in the windows trying to see what is inside. the little square windows don't seem to be giving much awayy. it is dark inside. in bright paint above the windows are several beautifully crafted signs. these signs in yellow, red and blue proclaim the shop as the best place in the world to buy womble momentos from. even better there have been some signs added on that also tell of the coming of a womble museum.
yet the mystery is that there is nothing of the wombles in view in the shop, still not open.
but a crowd is gathering,
i am suddenly talking to a blonde, she has short hair, a voice like mariella frostrup, wearing jeans and a black t-shirt. she has asked me what do i think of scott. i start to answer and the shop is open! we are stuck in the doorway not actually wanting to go in but now we are hindering the crowd that does want to go in, we battle out of the tide of womble fans. i am a little disappointed as i don't get to see a womble.
we walk, turn a corner and then suddenly we are in a muddy semi dumping ground that also has a babbling brook in it.
i offer the woman a clementine, i warn her that it is sharp and will make her pull faces.
she accepts it.
as she peels it she asks me what i was going on the bus when she asked a question and we all laughed.
i asked her what the question was. she couldn't remember, but that it was on the tip of her tongue.

dream fades and i wake up (sort of).

some of it is related to work. the wombles comes out of the fact i have just gotten a womble cd (indeed and it is well what you expect really) while the clementine was the last thing i are last night and it was sharp and sour.
now if i could find that blonde i would be a happy man,

disturbing dreams

i had one of the most disturbing dreams i have ever had the other day.
it had some very odd sexual stuff at the start (i shan't say what was involved as i appreciate some of you have delicate constitutions). this section was so lewd and depraved that even caligula might have blushed. without missing a beat this transformed into an idylic scene, a tennis court, i was watching children play in a hazy sunlight park with leaves flying all around them. the next thing i know i am fascinated by a bright yellow tennis ball that rolls steadily towards me. scene change. a turkish bath and a buffed up oiled and muscled lemmy of motorhead (or was it triple h of the wwe) is naked and looking scared as a pile of women pounce on him and pin him down. he shouts, stuggles and screams. all goes quiet as john wayne enters - dressd as if he was about to go on the set of the cowboys.
i am sure there was more - but i think i was overwhelmed by that stage.
i gotta stop eating chocolates before i go to sleep.