Avant garde, no?

cc: The Pentagon, White House (Deidre, see my notebook for O's private add.)
subject: analysis of last night's events



Last night, I had a dream. It was very strange, I was on some sort of school camp but the great thing about this school camp was that nobody from school was actually there. Nice work, subconscious, those characters are getting a little stale these days.

Anyway, myself and my contemporaries were on some sort of camp - it may not have even been organised by a school - and there was a bit of mucking about getting to wherever, with buses and trains and Robert Downey Jr. gave me a ride on a motorcycle.

At first I was grateful to Mr. Downey Jr, but it turned out that he was an incredibly reckless rider.

I regretted accepting his invitation! Imagine that!

Anyway, a whole bunch of nonsense happened and most of it has already slipped from my mind, but what I do remember is that at one point we were playing baseball, except we were just kind of mucking about, having a laff if you will, when suddenly the pitcher decided to take the game seriously and pitched a proper pitch which the batter was in no position to hit wit' his switch, and verily it were a strike!

The only problem was, I was supposed to be the guy catching the ball if it got past the batter, except I wasn't paying attention, and it went rolling into the muddy jungle that we decided to play in front of. So, I went and trundled through the jungle and I retrieved the cue ball from the bracken or whatever, but I was worried that if I just slid it across the table it wouldn't make it all the way, so I threw it back.

Well, when I got back to the game, Mack was not happy. He had retrieved the pool cue I had thrown from the jungle behind the other side of the table, and it was a little bit broken. "Sorry, Mack! I didn't mean to throw it quite so far," I said by way of apology.

"You don't have to apologise to me," said Mack, "It was McBroington's cue."

The next day, I saw McBroington in his car, looking very grumpy. I tried to get his attention, but there was nothing doing. His girlfriend walked past and I asked if he was still angry about the cue. She said, no, he was angry because of his legs. I went over to the bus and got my bags out, then walked over to the airport check-in to fly home. And then I woke up.

What am I supposed to take from all this? That my brain needs a fucking continuity editor? What on Earth were we supposed to be playing?

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