OK then professors of psychology and madness, answer me this: all dreams have some kind of meaning… so where does this come from, what does it mean?

Last night I had a dream that there was a fairground that could only open during the day, because at night, the fairground was attacked by giant mutant squirrels that were attracted to the smell of roasting peanuts and candyfloss, so the fairground had to be locked up and have an electric fence. Cut to the hero (me) in a long duster coat, a Remington pump action shotgun loaded with walnut shells and rock-salt, and the task of getting rid of the giant mutant squirrels.

Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever walked round a fairground when it’s closed up. I have, and it’s strange… the one in my dream was even stranger, because it’s totally deserted, but all the stalls are open and all the lights on… that strange music they play – you know, twisted barrel organ music on old warped tapes – , was playing. But it’s just me Vs the giant mutant squirrels.

You couldn’t make this shit up could you?

Needless to say, because I don’t sleep very well… I woke up before any sort of resolution.

End

And yes, I did spend ten mins making that picture from bits I nicked off the internet.