• We have updated the guidelines regarding posting political content: please see the stickied thread on Website Issues.

What Did You Dream Of Last Night?

blessmycottonsocks said:
And gawd bless 'im, Brian Murphy is still with us aged 91.
He's married to Hi-de-hi actress Linda Regan.
The comedy anecdotes those two can chat about must be legendary!

View attachment 73010
Click to expand...
They're in a comedy podcast!

Radio and Podcast sitcom, Barmy Dale, introduces two wonderful actors to the cast, the legend that is Brian Murphy (Man About the House, George and Mildred, Last of the Summer Wine) and Linda Regan (Hi-De-Hi) as Lord Palmer and the Mayoress of Barmy Dale, Felicity Palmer.

Barmy Dale has been nominated for multiple podcast awards and can be heard on all good podcast providers.
Click to expand...

 
I was with my brother-in-law, “urban exploring” the inside of a gargantuan ziggurat-style multi-storey car park. The interior was hollow, and the size of the building was such that one could have built a cathedral in the vacant space.

Some third party handed us a powerful incendiary bomb and we dropped it down the slope of concrete levels below us, intending for it to fall to ground level and detonate hundreds of feet down. Instead, it caught on a projecting piece of the structure and stayed there, spinning furiously, its motion striking a jet of sparks from the stone. l remember thinking, “The friction is going to detonate that bastard, and far too close for comfort.”

At this point, numerous vehicles began to speed into the building at ground level far below us, crashing into each other violently in a tangle of wreckage. This seemed to dislodge the spinning bomb, which plummeted towards the carnage below.

Bladder alarm.

Why can’t l recall nice, happy dreams?

maximus otter
 
Eyespy said:
I finally really woke up at 11: 30 with a stinking headache , I thought I had been up most of the night (very windy and rainy here) making a grey velvet jacket. So convinced was I that I checked the sewing room and emptied my secret fabric stash. No sign of any velvet jacket, scraps or even fluff.
Click to expand...
escargot said:
That's very specific. Where does such a garment appear in your waking ife? :thought:
Click to expand...
I'm sure that if you flatter/bribe @escargot enough, the two of you can make a whole range of grey velvet jackets, and rake in the cash....
 
Dont normally remember my dreams but last night I woke up mid dream so it was still quite vivid. I was on holiday somewhere in Surrey with some friends and bought a horse! I was discussing with a friend how I was going to get the horse back up North. We were boarding a train at the time, but not by getting in the carriage. Oh no, we climbed up onto some sort of goods truck!
Very wierd!
 
Think this was prompted by realising that the hospital that Mrs T was in was built on the site of the TB hospital where my father died.

Anyway I was talking to my father, who I didn't really know as he died when I was seven and a half and was in hospital for a lot of my life. He was thanking a group of female nurses and obviously had said something that would have been regarded as OK (Or maybe not?) many years ago but, by their expressions was perhaps a little weird (They looked bemused rather than offended) I went over and said something like "Things have moved on Dad, you can't say things that way any more." He looked shocked and apologised to the nurses who were very gracious and said something like "Don't worry it's been a long time." Dad said "I can't believe it's been sixty two years." I remember the sixty two years and I had to look it up, he died sixty two years ago.

We were then standing in the road near my house, Mum (who died twenty six years ago) was fussing over finding a hospital for Dad and talking about one in Essex. I pointed out that it was closer in miles but involved the cost and traffic of the Dartford Crossing. Dad said he didn't need a hospital and pointed out a children's playground that was in a grassy hollow. He slid down the bank and insisted that I got on the other end of a huge see-saw. At this point I woke up.

Later that night another dream. An old boss of mine wanted a mural painted quickly and asked me to paint a seascape. I had this huge sheet of paper and was working my way along it thinking that what I was trying to paint was utter crap. However he held it up and it was very good with a sort of Escher like geometric transformation between waves, beach and cliffs. I was stunned as it was way beyond anything I could ever manage.
 
I didn't fall asleep until around 2 am and I had another busy dream. I was with a group of people who decided to vacation somewhere.

I thought we were going to stay at a nice hotel with all amenities. They decided to go to a campground type of venue ie. no restaurant food, no baths etc. We had to make our own food. There was a shower with no curtains. Everyone was sleeping altogether in beds that had to be shared.

Of course everyone was partying and there were kids running amok. It was noisy and definitely not enjoyable.

I woke in my shared bed (with some random guy) after trying to sleep with all of the cacophony and was trying to find my phone to see the time.

For some reason, I found that I was lying on about 6 phones, none of them mine. I then realized that I was supposed to be at work for 7am (irl yes) and could not figure out why I'd decided that I would go on this trip nor did I know where I was. I also couldn't call anyone to say I wouldn't be in to work.

Then, thank goodness, my alarm went off. Of course it took me a little while to waken because of all of the disturbed sleep in my dream.:roll:
 
I was in a seminar room with a whole bunch of smartly dressed people and a younger version of my dad was there, wearing the kind of light grey suit he used to have for work. He was due to give some kind of presentation, but as soon as he stood up and started to talk, the woman next to me (who had a clipboard on her lap) started frowning and sighing and saying, "That's not what we asked him to do at all." My response was, "He's like Ken Dodd, he'll go on for ages unless you shut him down." Sorry Dad!
 
I was living in a charming cottage in a picture-postcard village, one of those ones with wood cladding around the ground level.

There were creatures living beneath the house. It'd be difficult to convey their exact appearance, but this one from The Spiderwick Chronicles will give you an idea:

9e5b79a7d2dff24e0ef4244f5457f737.jpg


Their lair was accessed via a pipe leading down from the street outside my house, the pipe being about 10" in diameter. My wife would leave offerings of food to the - boggarts? - beside the opening of the pipe, which projected about a foot above the ground.

In the dream, I was annoyed by this. The mem had left a slice of buttered bread leaning against the pipe, so I picked it up and hurled it off into the woods behind the house. I recall it slicing through the air like a well-flipped playing card. Wanting to show the boggarts what I thought of them, I decided to block the end of the pipe to prevent them from leaving their hideout.

There was a large stone shaped somewhat like a starfish in my neighbour's garden, and I judged that it would be sufficiently large to seal the pipe. I picked it up and laid it on the opening of the tube. It proved to be not big enough, and the rock began to rattle down the pipe, not sliding but turning end-over-end, down towards the assembled boggarts below, whose pale, deadpan faces I could see staring up at me. Their almost expressionless faces began to contort into aspects of hate...

Bladder alert!

I need to drink less fluid before turning in: I could pitch some of these ideas to Hollywood.

maximus otter
 
maximus otter said:
I was living in a charming cottage in a picture-postcard village, one of those ones with wood cladding around the ground level.

There were creatures living beneath the house. It'd be difficult to convey their exact appearance, but this one from The Spiderwick Chronicles will give you an idea:

9e5b79a7d2dff24e0ef4244f5457f737.jpg


Their lair was accessed via a pipe leading down from the street outside my house, the pipe being about 10" in diameter. My wife would leave offerings of food to the - boggarts? - beside the opening of the pipe, which projected about a foot above the ground.

In the dream, I was annoyed by this. The mem had left a slice of buttered bread leaning against the pipe, so I picked it up and hurled it off into the woods behind the house. I recall it slicing through the air like a well-flipped playing card. Wanting to show the boggarts what I thought of them, I decided to block the end of the pipe to prevent them from leaving their hideout.

There was a large stone shaped somewhat like a starfish in my neighbour's garden, and I judged that it would be sufficiently large to seal the pipe. I picked it up and laid it on the opening of the tube. It proved to be not big enough, and the rock began to rattle down the pipe, not sliding but turning end-over-end, down towards the assembled boggarts below, whose pale, deadpan faces I could see staring up at me. Their almost expressionless faces began to contort into aspects of hate...

Bladder alert!

I need to drink less fluid before turning in: I could pitch some of these ideas to Hollywood.

maximus otter
Click to expand...
Maximus "I don't take no crap from fairies" Otter :clap:
 
Since Mrs T63 had her operation I have been covering a large portion of what she does as well as covering my own activities, hence I am feeling very tired, more so than usual.
Last night I woke up when Mrs T63 threw off the quilt due to a menopausal hot flush. She was sitting up on the side of the bed, I assumed in order to visit the loo. I sat up to ask if she was ok as she wasn’t making any attempt to move. Looking to my right I saw she was laying down and was sound asleep.
The Mrs T63 who was sitting on the side of the bed had disappeared.
I‘m not sure whether it is being so tired, being concerned about her getting around with the cast on her leg, or a combination of both that brings on these weird dreams.
or maybe she was about to launch onto the astral to escape the pain and discomfort she is currently experiencing and I saw her Ka ready for lift off?
 
Background: waiting on a heart op. I have yet another set of "preliminary tests" coming up on Monday (two days time).

Life has become a brand new body clock all of its own: up and awake for between four to six hours. Completely run out of energy and then sleep for four to six hours. Rinse and repeat indefinitely.

During the "sleep phase" this morning, went back to bed. Inevitably I returned to my old university, UEA Norwich, talked to various people and revisited a couple of places. (details lost on waking) This segued into a dinner invitation to a more upmarket house with people in evening dress or dinner jackets, some of whom were known to me, some of whom were not. There was an air of expectation around the table and I got that there was some sort of situation I didn't completely know about. Scene was a big gloomy candle-lit room with not nearly enough light.

I was introduced to "the butler". He was a largely unspeaking, powerfully built man, but with a look of keen intelligence about him. He was bald and with a big hawk nose. Unusually, he was naked to the waist, which I reflected was not the usual butlerian order of dress.

I also got that he wasn't necessarily hostile or opposed to me, but that he had a task to perform: this involved making two short parellel cuts into my right chest, to the side of my breastbone and on a level with the nipple. Oddly, this didn't hurt nor feel physically uncomfortable. "The Butler" used what looked like a paired razor blade to do this, then leant over and sucked or lapped up the blood as it flowed. The rest of the people round the dinner table looked on, fairly intently.

Dream-Me took this passively, and registered the man's body-smell - sweat after exertion - was neither repulsed nor attracted by this. I also thought "Well, I know I'm not gay, or I'd find this attractive?" along with "Good to know I'm not homophobic either, or I'd find this revolting" - or else "So this is what it feels like to be vampired. Funny, I'm not frightened."

I also had the feeling that this was, in some way, not parasitical; yes, a vampire was getting my blood, but he was giving me something in return at the same time. I just needed to figure out what it was.

Woke up. Wondered if something had got into the bed (as you do) and might have bitten me on the chest to provoke a dream: checked, no marks. And that's my dream of the vampire!
 
AgProv said:
Background: waiting on a heart op. I have yet another set of "preliminary tests" coming up on Monday (two days time).

Life has become a brand new body clock all of its own: up and awake for between four to six hours. Completely run out of energy and then sleep for four to six hours. Rinse and repeat indefinitely.

During the "sleep phase" this morning, went back to bed. Inevitably I returned to my old university, UEA Norwich, talked to various people and revisited a couple of places. (details lost on waking) This segued into a dinner invitation to a more upmarket house with people in evening dress or dinner jackets, some of whom were known to me, some of whom were not. There was an air of expectation around the table and I got that there was some sort of situation I didn't completely know about. Scene was a big gloomy candle-lit room with not nearly enough light.

I was introduced to "the butler". He was a largely unspeaking, powerfully built man, but with a look of keen intelligence about him. He was bald and with a big hawk nose. Unusually, he was naked to the waist, which I reflected was not the usual butlerian order of dress.

I also got that he wasn't necessarily hostile or opposed to me, but that he had a task to perform: this involved making two short parellel cuts into my right chest, to the side of my breastbone and on a level with the nipple. Oddly, this didn't hurt nor feel physically uncomfortable. "The Butler" used what looked like a paired razor blade to do this, then leant over and sucked or lapped up the blood as it flowed. The rest of the people round the dinner table looked on, fairly intently.

Dream-Me took this passively, and registered the man's body-smell - sweat after exertion - was neither repulsed nor attracted by this. I also thought "Well, I know I'm not gay, or I'd find this attractive?" along with "Good to know I'm not homophobic either, or I'd find this revolting" - or else "So this is what it feels like to be vampired. Funny, I'm not frightened."

I also had the feeling that this was, in some way, not parasitical; yes, a vampire was getting my blood, but he was giving me something in return at the same time. I just needed to figure out what it was.

Woke up. Wondered if something had got into the bed (as you do) and might have bitten me on the chest to provoke a dream: checked, no marks. And that's my dream of the vampire!
Click to expand...
Avoid garlic.
 
AgProv said:
Background: waiting on a heart op. I have yet another set of "preliminary tests" coming up on Monday (two days time).

Life has become a brand new body clock all of its own: up and awake for between four to six hours. Completely run out of energy and then sleep for four to six hours. Rinse and repeat indefinitely.

During the "sleep phase" this morning, went back to bed. Inevitably I returned to my old university, UEA Norwich, talked to various people and revisited a couple of places. (details lost on waking) This segued into a dinner invitation to a more upmarket house with people in evening dress or dinner jackets, some of whom were known to me, some of whom were not. There was an air of expectation around the table and I got that there was some sort of situation I didn't completely know about. Scene was a big gloomy candle-lit room with not nearly enough light.

I was introduced to "the butler". He was a largely unspeaking, powerfully built man, but with a look of keen intelligence about him. He was bald and with a big hawk nose. Unusually, he was naked to the waist, which I reflected was not the usual butlerian order of dress.

I also got that he wasn't necessarily hostile or opposed to me, but that he had a task to perform: this involved making two short parellel cuts into my right chest, to the side of my breastbone and on a level with the nipple. Oddly, this didn't hurt nor feel physically uncomfortable. "The Butler" used what looked like a paired razor blade to do this, then leant over and sucked or lapped up the blood as it flowed. The rest of the people round the dinner table looked on, fairly intently.

Dream-Me took this passively, and registered the man's body-smell - sweat after exertion - was neither repulsed nor attracted by this. I also thought "Well, I know I'm not gay, or I'd find this attractive?" along with "Good to know I'm not homophobic either, or I'd find this revolting" - or else "So this is what it feels like to be vampired. Funny, I'm not frightened."

I also had the feeling that this was, in some way, not parasitical; yes, a vampire was getting my blood, but he was giving me something in return at the same time. I just needed to figure out what it was.

Woke up. Wondered if something had got into the bed (as you do) and might have bitten me on the chest to provoke a dream: checked, no marks. And that's my dream of the vampire!
Click to expand...
Have you checked to make sure you still have a reflection?
 
Last edited:
And so typical of my dreaming mind that when I get vampired in a dream.... forget Catherine Deneuve or Ingrid Pitt. It has to be a big thickset bloke with a very vague resemblance to a younger Aleistar Crowley. And if my psyche wants to go homoerotic - what's wrong with one of the fey and pretty young things out of Twilight or at a pinch, out of Anne Rice? And why now? I'm in my sixties. If I was meant by inclination to go gay, I'd have done it a long time ago. Nothing wrong with it - it's just not really me...
 
Last edited:
I was thinking last night and realised I had some dream-related content for the thread that happened a few years ago.

Basically, I'd moved into a house which was "old" for America, built in 1926 or so, single storey and pretty small. The area was run down (the house had never had its kitchen fully upgraded so it had a single socket and the original sink was the same I'd seen in the ruin of the manager's on-site house at a nearby mercury mine turned county park, the mine of which had shut down around 1980). I had upgraded the kitchen DIY to about-as-classy Ikea and Formica (and found about four layers of tiles, so they did at least retile once every few decades), so I was fairly familiar with the "guts" of the house (both the old knob and tube wiring still in use in places, the loft which was full of horrible blown-in insulation, and a crawlspace with a tiny basement area where the heating system lived. I'd also added a small office-style network rack for ethernet, with a couple of routers and the modem). The floors were pretty wavey, but I repeatedly had foundation guys in who told me it was basically perfect, it was rare for them to see a foundation in that good condition, and the waveyness was to be expected. However, there were areas beyond the small basement and crawlspace that became too narrow to crawl in, so the front of the under-house was inaccessible.

Basically, not long after I moved in, and way before I did any upgrades, I started having dreams. They happened the entire time I lived in the house, and they were recurring, always the same theme, and that theme was that small dirt basement. In the dreams the small basement area (which just had dirt walls and floor, with some bits of concrete here and there. The heating system actually hung down from the ceiling and took up most of the basement space, and you'd just climb up the dirt walls to get into the crawlspace beyond that, but in the dreams the dirt passageways would extend way beyond that, leading into twisting and turning passageways.

Weirdly, the number one recurring theme of this was a toilet. If you explored this dream basement, you'd almost always find a hidden door, behind which was the most extravagant bathroom you'd ever seen, with ornate tile everywhere, a standing bathtub with the little brass feet, gold-plated fittings everywhere and pretty much everything you'd expect from the main bathroom in a huge mansion. There was nothing more to this aspect than that, it just existed, consistently, though the exact setup and precise level of fanciness were variable.

The other notable aspect of these dreams was that often there'd be areas where the basement would stop being part of the house, like you'd come to the end of a corridor and find that suddenly there was a large drop leading to a much larger area in some random nook or cranny of the house, into which construction debris had been tossed but it was otherwise just a cavernous space. Usually I'd think "Wow, I have a great idea to use this space".

There'd obviously be random other aspects like whatever I was doing in the basement in any given dream, but those were less recurring. The interesting thing is that these dreams continued regularly the entire five years I lived there, and after I moved out, in the months that followed I continued to have the dreams, but they had now changed to me having to sneak into the house, avoiding detection by the new owners, trying to do or find something that was present there. I never quite knew what the thing was as the dreams mostly centred around avoiding the new owners, either by waiting until they were out (but sometimes they came back during the dream) or sneaking in while they were home, to complete this unknown recovery, but they were still about the same, sprawling maze version of the basement complete with the bathroom, but now with me more specifically searching for something instead of just exploring. Slowly the dreams became less common until they eventually stopped.

Really, it makes me wonder what on earth was going on in that basement, like was there buried treasure I should have found or something.
 
Last night: just a "glimpse" of myself, in which I had the physical vitality and the easy freeness of movement I had in my twenties and thirties. I've noticed how sensory input in dreams follows, pretty much, the order of importance of our five senses: dreams are always visual, and almost always have sound input: you'd expect that. Sight and sound, the two primary human senses. it's only rarely that I smell anything in dreams, and as for taste, that's vanishingly rare. Physical feeling comes last of all - you move, but this is taken for granted and there's no awareness of motion or muscular movement. feeling things happens, but it takes conscious effort (reaching out to touch things is one of the keys to a lucid dream, making a conscious intent to touch and appreciate the sensation of touch).

This dream fragment last night had me just walking and breaking into a gentle jog - a complete awareness of the interplay of muscles, limbs, bones, skin, marvelling at how effortless and easy it was, and then a feeling of depression as to what I've "lost", slowly and gradually, in the last couple of decades, without even realising what's slipped away. Movement in that dream was effortless - movement today takes more thinking about and mobility is definitely limited from what it was. And it depressed me on waking up, feeling it had gone for ever. Ah well, so it is to be male and early sixties!
 
Last night I had three odd dreams.

In the first I was watching a TV film in which a man captured his friend and attacked him with a razor, saying 'I'm sorry about this...' I had to look away at this point, and then when I looked back, I was in the film, in a car with the man and a girl at an airport. The man was naked to the waist and had a stitched wound in the top of his back just under his shoulder blade. 'Aha!' I thought, in the dream, 'he's stolen one of his friend's kidneys!' Then then three of us were in a hotel bedroom, watching TV in a big bed. I moved my pillow and pulled it around lower in the bed so I could see the TV and noted again the man's wound. It was seeping blood a little onto the sheets and I thought it was a very odd place to put stitches for a kidney transplant...

Then I was on a trip somewhere. I met two of my old workmates who asked me to come back on the coach they were on. There were a lot of corridors, a dropped purse which spilled £2 coins, and one of my workmates driving the coach. An elderly lady was walking with a frame up some steps, telling us about something she'd read in a magazine at the hairdresser's...

The last dream - I was working at a newsstand on a station platform. Two women asked me for a copy of 'Classics'. I couldn't work out what they meant, and they pointed to a shelf. I climbed up on the lower shelves to reach up, one of the women joined me and started sorting through a collection of Pokemon advent calendars that were on the shelf, which was apparently what they'd meant by 'classics'.
 
I noticed a stray(?) female tabby cat that was walking on three legs. Her left front leg was loose and immobile. I realized that it was broken or somehow injured and that she was trying not to use it.

I got some meat (a small roast I think) that I was going to cut the fatty portions up to give her to eat since I figured she would not be able to fend for herself.

I cut up some and gave it to her. She seemed exhausted and was lying on her side. I had to move slowly since whenever I got close, she'd move away. Very cautious and not trusting.

I gave her the scraps of meat, which she ate. She seemed to gain some strength.

As I was giving her tiny pieces by hand, I noticed in the bowl a cat nose. I tossed this aside as I didn't think she'd want to eat it.

Then, I realized that somehow I had prepped a cat for her meal. I then looked over to see only a cat skin that had retained its cat form despite having been used to gather meat from. The skin even had the ears standing as though a full cat. The nose was missing, of course.

:omg:don't ask me.
 
@AgProv, I hope all goes well with your surgery. I'm guessing what it might be, through your comments. You might be surprised by the energy you will regain following the surgery.

AgProv said:
I was introduced to "the butler". He was a largely unspeaking, powerfully built man, but with a look of keen intelligence about him. He was bald and with a big hawk nose...

I also got that he wasn't necessarily hostile or opposed to me, but that he had a task to perform: this involved making two short parellel cuts into my right chest, to the side of my breastbone and on a level with the nipple. Oddly, this didn't hurt nor feel physically uncomfortable. "The Butler" used what looked like a paired razor blade to do this, then leant over and sucked or lapped up the blood as it flowed. The rest of the people round the dinner table looked on, fairly intently...


I also had the feeling that this was, in some way, not parasitical; yes, a vampire was getting my blood, but he was giving me something in return at the same time. I just needed to figure out what it was.
Click to expand...
I view this as part of your mind dealing with your upcoming surgery. Butler=vampire=surgeon.

A butler is expected to pay attention to even the smallest of details. You want your surgeon to be very detail oriented and intelligent. The vampire giving you something. Blood is often the symbol for life force.

I do get the impression that this dream is a positive one.
 
brownmane said:
I noticed a stray(?) female tabby cat that was walking on three legs. Her left front leg was loose and immobile. I realized that it was broken or somehow injured and that she was trying not to use it.
Click to expand...
Oh heck I'd opened this thread before going off to prepare my meal and when I came back I'd forgotten it was the dream thread and thought it was 'The what I did today thread'! Blimey it gave me quite a fright!! duh
 
Well damn and blast it the forum rules are even bu88erin' up my dreams!!!

After a dream about nothing much I was aware that a meeting of some sort was going on in my garage (which I don't have in real life) It was something to do with a neighbourhood project so I went in to see what was going on.

To my astonishment Jacob Rees Mogg and Nigel Farage were standing on the margins looking on with interest but not joining in. 'Oh good thinks I and was planning a bit of shit stirring and was about to approach when I remembered the 'no politics' rule.!!!

This brought me up short but it made me realise I was dreaming and it had become lucid ... but there was nowhere I could take it as rulz are rulz!

This meant an instant awakening but as I'm in full agreement with the rule I thought it was quite funny although a bit disappointed about missing a bit of lucidity.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top