I had a dream
One of the downsides of not owning a telly is that you tend to miss out on episodes of great historical import; listening to them on the wireless isn't quite the same, especially when the commentary isn't up to scratch.
Last night I went to bed fairly early and as is my wont, I left the wireless on a low level, tuned to 5live's coverage of the US election, presented by the snow-shovelling ex children's presenter, Richard Bacon and the rather more astute political editor,John Pienaar. I was hoping to catch the first couple of declarations around 1am, just to see which way the wind was blowing. In the event, I fell asleep around 12.45.
I then found myself walking around Sharon's house in my pyjamas, dithering about using the downstairs lavatory as it involved walking across the back hall which happened to be swimming in dog piss. And I only had socks on my feet. Linn Marie, Sharon's youngest, who was cooking in the kitchen at the time, lost patience and skipped past me into the khazi, oblivious to the mess on the floor. I got upset by my indecisiveness and retired somewhere nondescript. Seeing that she had unwittingly upset me, Linn Marie arranged for my favourite band to put on a special concert for me; unfortunately I didn't recognise any of the players until the star was introduced, a balding, saxophone playing, white polo neck shirt wearing mixed-raced chap with a friendly face going under the name of Paul Kings, coincidentally the same name as a very much Anglo-Saxon and hirsuit childhood friend who now runs a geological testing company in the west country somewhere. We lost touch about 30 years ago bar a brief flurry of Friendsreunited mails a few years back. Paul's solo was interrupted by the piano player who was making his final appearance with the band. He started talking in a familiar drawl and then got up to shake hands with the rest of the band and address the audience, thanking gard and saying thank you to his fellow merkins. It was George W. Bush and he was unaccountably popular.
I woke up. The radio was still on and John McCain was conceding defeat. His voice and intonation, if you are half asleep, is scarily similar to that of the outgoing leader of the free world.
Last night I went to bed fairly early and as is my wont, I left the wireless on a low level, tuned to 5live's coverage of the US election, presented by the snow-shovelling ex children's presenter, Richard Bacon and the rather more astute political editor,John Pienaar. I was hoping to catch the first couple of declarations around 1am, just to see which way the wind was blowing. In the event, I fell asleep around 12.45.
I then found myself walking around Sharon's house in my pyjamas, dithering about using the downstairs lavatory as it involved walking across the back hall which happened to be swimming in dog piss. And I only had socks on my feet. Linn Marie, Sharon's youngest, who was cooking in the kitchen at the time, lost patience and skipped past me into the khazi, oblivious to the mess on the floor. I got upset by my indecisiveness and retired somewhere nondescript. Seeing that she had unwittingly upset me, Linn Marie arranged for my favourite band to put on a special concert for me; unfortunately I didn't recognise any of the players until the star was introduced, a balding, saxophone playing, white polo neck shirt wearing mixed-raced chap with a friendly face going under the name of Paul Kings, coincidentally the same name as a very much Anglo-Saxon and hirsuit childhood friend who now runs a geological testing company in the west country somewhere. We lost touch about 30 years ago bar a brief flurry of Friendsreunited mails a few years back. Paul's solo was interrupted by the piano player who was making his final appearance with the band. He started talking in a familiar drawl and then got up to shake hands with the rest of the band and address the audience, thanking gard and saying thank you to his fellow merkins. It was George W. Bush and he was unaccountably popular.
I woke up. The radio was still on and John McCain was conceding defeat. His voice and intonation, if you are half asleep, is scarily similar to that of the outgoing leader of the free world.
posted by Richard at 11:45 am
4 Vegetable peelings:
Well Poppy does piss in the porch but she's only little and doesn't pee THAT much! Are you sure your dream wasn't exaggerating?
Well, he's going to have to do something once he's out of a job.
The Grauniad suggested today he might take over as the new Doctor Who.
I thought that!
How could someone sounding so like Bush ever hope to think of winning?
I think America has elected the smartest man for the job. Definitely the smartest president in my lifetime. Now if we can keep the CIA from killing him and making it look like a bunch of simpleton racist did it.
Forgive me for my skewed thinking, but I know 9/11 was not a small group of foreign Ghad freaks working independently. WTC building 7 fell like a Las Vegas hotel demolition and it just so happens it was full of Enron and World Com documents.
There is some real tail wagging the dog going on in this world.
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