It’s always a little disconcerting when one of your work mates turns to you during a coffee break, and says:

“You know, D-Man, last night I had this dream where we were tramping with a group of people and you were a bit faster than the rest of us, so you got to the ranger’s hut way before us, and when we all finally got there, you’d killed six backpackers and strung them up for dinner …”

Damn it.

That wasn’t a dream – it was a repressed memory. I thought he’d forgotten …

Why do I always have to be such a nice let-the-witnesses-live kind of guy?

It’s always a little disconcerting when your (male) boss starts the morning meetings with “You know, D-Man, last night I had this dream where you…”

One of my former bosses did that on several occasions.

But that wasn’t half as bad as the meetings that started: “You know, D-Man, I was thinking about you in the shower this morning, and…”

What (I hope) he meant was that often, while at home, he ended up thinking about jobs he wanted to assign to me the next day.
But I just wished he’d keep all thoughts about me as far away from his bed, or shower, as possible.

I also wish he hadn’t been a compulsive nose picker who absent-mindedly, yet compulsively, picked his nose whilst talking to me at the morning meetings. Whilst relaying how he’d had a dream about me, or thought of me while taking a shower…

It’s always a little disconcerting when, like this afternoon, I was in the work change rooms getting ready to cycle home and some guy turns to me and compliments me on my “nice silky boxer shorts”.

WTF? How Totally Gay is that?

Although, having said that … I guess I too have been guilty in the past of uttering such change room classics, as:

“Dude, do you shave your ass?!”

and

“Haaaa!!! Do you get a lot of laughs with THAT thing?!”

Then there’s that time I went on about how that rugby player looked nice in underwear .

Or that weekend not long ago where me and D-Missus crashed at my cousin's house out in the country… and some Bible Bashers turned up... and, to my great astonishment, my cousin didn’t scream at them to Fuck Off, like I normally do … and he instead just stood there politely listening to them talk about The Apocalypse and about how letting gays partake in civil unions was evil and a sign of End Times… and after a few minutes of this I was sick of listening to them, so I walked out in my bath towel and said “Dan, when are you coming back to bed?”.

And *poof* - just like that - the Bible Bashers were gone.

Was I going somewhere with all this?
Did I have a point?

Something about backpackers, or dreams?
I forget.

Nevermind.

As for my own dreams, I don’t normally remember them.

When I do though, they tend to be vivid little fucked up ones. Like this: