My girlfriend is on the radio at the moment discussing her crazy dreams and discussing what they prophesize. In lieu of what I was originally going to talk about here, my weekend, kids television and Requiem for a Dream. I thought I’d instead discuss dreams and make some more realistic interpretations. So let’s get down to the first dream of my significant other.

I dreamt that me and some of my friends were going on some kind of trip and, for one reason or another, had decided to stop at my house on the way. But when I got to the house, I found it had been transformed into a Goth Theme-Park. My dad had turned into a Goth (nb. he is a hippie). There were employee-of-the-month style pictures drawn in Crayon, one of which was of my dad and labelled “Vince”, suggesting that my dad had changed his name. The theme park had a ghost train and there were lots of sort of haunted-house style features, with trick-walls and horrifying puppets and the like. There was an odd kind of zoo in the basement, with snake and foxes and owls and deer. Upstairs, there was an occult bookshop. When we were walking around the bookshop, my friends were making faces and not looking impressed with my house, I had to explain that I didn’t know that the house would be a Goth theme park. 

Well, I think it’s clear to see from this story that she is into anal, she “has snakes in the basement”… Also, her friends leave her, suggesting that she’s socially retarded and she also clearly has daddy issues. On the other hand, she has me… even if I am horribly mean to her. Next up, she told me about…

I went with friends from my High School to go and see a Manchester United match in Rhyl, Wales. Before going to the match, I met some members of the Chinese Mafia, they were all very muscular and tough-looking. I decided to go clubbing with the group of mafiosos, but had no money, so broke into clubs through the fire exit. We couldn’t afford drinks, so we decided to leave. We all then went to a park where there was a sandpit and played mini golf. Also, there were go-karts in the park, which we drove along the grass. I’m not sure what happened to my friends. 

So, she leaves her friends to go with a masculine gang of Asians, suggesting a love of gang-bangs. She also had no money, suggesting that she’s a student, which she is. She also suggests that she can drive and play golf, which no woman can, suggesting gender identity issues.

And finally…

I was Simon Pegg, and I was shopping in Tesco when suddenly Zombies started appearing. I attacked them with things from the aisles: tins, bottles, bleach; to no avail, the items bounced off of them. Then Danny from Hot Fuzz (played by Nick Frost) appeared and gave me a machine gun and we shot the zombies, which seemed to work, but there were too many of them, they were coming from every direction. I then had to placate the lead zombie by buying him a Tesco-brand, pink ruler for seventeen pence but none of the checkouts had anybody on them, because they had all been eaten by zombies and the self-service checkouts weren’t working, because self-service checkouts suck. So me and Danny decided to steal the ruler, but because we were in the supermarket, it wouldn’t count as stealing. So we decided to leave the supermarket and steal the ruler before we gave it to the zombies, but we couldn’t leave because the exit was blocked by zombies. So we went to the toilets, to escape through a window and Danny gave me a leg-up to help me through the window. Just as I was climbing away, I was trying to pull Danny up too, but the zombies were pulling him back. He said “Go on without me!” and I said “This isn’t supposed to happen, you’re in the wrong bloody film!”. 

I told you so about the gender identity crisis. She’s now imagining herself to be a possibly homosexual man who fights to escape zombie apocalypse.

So there, I’ve learnt an awful lot about my relationship, had some great laughs and haven’t really had to engage my brain to write my daily blog entry. Always fun. Tomorrow, It’ll be my Friday with Requiem, my Saturday with Ned’s Declassified School Survival Guide, Drake and Josh, All Grown Up! and Rugrats and then maybe a little bit about lying ill on my deathbed… or my accurately, sleep-bed, all of Sunday, playing Bioshock 2 and Fifa ’12.

Until then.

My rule when I started writing this blog, all those days, ago was that I would write whenever I was bored, with a maximum one per day. I’m glad I added that second caveat, without it, I have a feeling I would have siphoned psuedo-intellectual shit onto the internet on a Shakespearian scale. But, I digress.

Which is stranger, asking a man for a drink via a youtube song, or asking a man for a vial of sperm via a youtube song. I certainly think that the second is stranger, but I’ve heard arguments to the contrary based on the fact that the latter doesn’t require you to ever meet the person. But, really, if you have a turkey baster and a vial of someone else’s sperm, especially if they’re famous; you are going to want to meet the person at some point, no matter how socially awkard/backward you are. If you’re interested, this is the video asking Jason Segal for a drink and this is the video asking Stephen Fry for sperm. They’re both pretty weird. But as far as I know, only the first one worked. We’ll have to wait a few years for a paternity test to find out if the latter was a success.

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n.b. I started writing this at the end of last year, but, as I have previously mentioned, I have no staying power. So what originally was a list of ten, is now a five. And I really hate Louise Mensch. Also, this is myfirst use of the more tag. Go me!

2011 had a couple of really heroic moments in the news; a lady, alone, attacking a group of jewel thieves with her handbag, a woman shouting at rioters in Hackney, trying to get them to stop destroying people’s livelihoods and an insane Italian man who throws ludicrous sums of money at people in Manchester. But, whilst everybody loves a bit of good news, I think we should save that for a sadder time in this week, maybe when I’m on a train or buried under work. For now, lets take a look at the biggest wankers of the year 2011.

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I’d like to think that I’ve grown out of being a pretentious wanker. But, despite myself, I just named a blog “From December to Apathy” which isn’t even clever. Apathy is too far from the word ashes to actually be witty. Oh well, it’s done now, and it’s not like WordPress just lets me change the title of a blog in the settings menu. I guess I’ll have to learn to live with it.

Like everybody in the world; I’ve tried blogging before and found it difficult. A lack of perceived audience always throws me. I find it difficult to write when I’m aware that nobody is going to read it. It’s the same reason why I won’t get involved with student radio; If I sat in an empty room talking as if people were there, I think I’d end up getting sectioned. It would be like the movie King of Comedy, where Rupert Pupkin has his living room set up like a chat show, talking to the various guests on the show as if they existed.

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