Remember how I got all that dream money a couple of dreams back?
Remember how sore my heartfeelings were to lose it all when I woke up.
Well, I spent it in last night's dream. I think it must be the Rick Wakeman.
I spent it in Harvey Norman actually, which had replaced its washing machine section with a bunch of records. I got Frenzal Rhomb's fictional new studio album, and a few other things. I was paying for them at the counter when my father came into the store. He had a beard... he didn't have a beard the last time I saw him. The beard puzzled me. It seemed to taunt me with it's presence.
Finally I said, "Daddio, what's with the beard?"
He explained that he'd travelled through time, so while it was only a few hours since I last saw him, it was several weeks since he'd last seen me.
Then I woke up, glad that I got to spend the money in the end.
But my father can't really time travel (as far as I know), which leaves me without a lot to do this weekend.
Let's have a look at the options.
Friday: Hey, that's today!
Well, tonight I could go to an art show... and I rather think I will.
Well, that's Friday covered.
Tomorrow is Saturday, of course, and I do believe that my younger sibling is going to throw a party, and hell, I might as well get drunk with her friends as long as my friends have abandoned me.
But, I will not be a destructive drunk.
I shall be a constructive drunk, for I have a grand plan to build a spinning prize wheel - oh, how grand it shall be.
Clickaclickaclickaclicka - round and round and round it goes, where it stops, nobody knows. Oh, it stopped.
And you've won a braaaand new car! - I shall exclaim.
Aha, I hear you say, the old sod's gone completely bonkers.
To which I reply, "Afraid not, you pommy bastards! I have grandiose plans of performance art and probable arrests, and all will be revealed in due course!"
Stay tuned in future weeks for my grandiose plans and the putting into operation of same.
That's right - this is one of the grandiose plans that is actually put into operation, as opposed to the seven or so too grandiose plans that I make a day, which don't.