Originally posted on the Nudge Wink Report:

I’ve sat down on the train. I’m tired after a long day at work. I’ve actually got a headache, and I’m hoping for a quiet, peaceful journey. Will I get one… nope. Not at all. Why? Well, lurking in a nearby seat is a biological weapon, a chemical bomb, a vile, repugnant force.


(is it behind me? Please, don’t be behind me!)

I can sense it growing in malice. It’s need to spread its diseased power across the landscape is insatiable. Now it’s making disgusting, squelching, gurgling noises… you know, those wet sounds, like someone walking through thick, wet mud. SLURP SLURP SLURP…

Where is it? What is it?


(it’s really familiar, and I know I’m not going to like what it is…)

The train rumbles along the tracks, juddering and rocking and bumping along. With each new jarring impact, there are groans of woe and fear and dread. Still, one more stop and I’ll be getting off this train…

Except, it’s too late. The final bump triggers the unleashing of this harrowing, terrifying force…

I’m confronted by the coming of The Thing. With that brilliantly disgusting wet ‘blllleeaarrrrerrruk’ sound. What’s happened? What creature has been unleashed?!

The Puke Monster!!!

Basically, a kid on the train was sick.

It’s not really the kid’s fault. I blame the parents for filling them with sugar. Actually, that isn’t fair either. I have no idea why they emptied their stomach. I do know I’m extremely grateful my sense of smell failed me at that moment, and that the train stopped more or less at that moment too. It’s a far cry from a recent flight with my little girl, strapped in and unable to escape as she’s sick over her mother and herself. That I did smell, and I nearly broke out into a sympathetic rainbow-coloured yelp of my own.

I guess the moral of this story is… well… there isn’t one. If you travel with kids, take a sick bag. Take several. Hope for the best, prep for the worst. Assume they will chunder like thunder.


Behind that adorable face lies a crazed mind. My dreams over the past few days have been a sprawling mess, a chaotic maelstrom of weirdness. Let me regale you with the first tale…

Old Men

I have no idea what was happening here. This dream is a few days old so it’s quite fuzzy, but it seemed to involve a car park confrontation, a small waterfall, some kind of extremely valuable artefact and a set of stairs, as well as confronting an old man with a knife who had masqueraded as an ally against the original bad guy. I have no idea why we were mortal enemies but that’s dreams for you!

Masterchef, Killer Robots and the Apocalypse

Yeah… I can’t link the first part to the rest. One minute I’m a contestant on Masterchef Australia (my wife will tell you why that’s hilarious!), the next I’m fleeing from a Terminator and trying to marshal a bunch of people in shelters to survive a coming nuclear war. Why my subconscious produced such a baffling scenario I don’t know!

So I’m walking home from the station on Friday, and I have my headphones in, grooving to some tunes (ok, I don’t groove in public, but you get the idea), when a man starts waving at me.

At first I thought, ‘do we know each other?’ However it became clear I had no idea who he was. He was pleasant enough, but it became clear as to why he’d stopped me, when he asked ‘what do you think of the world today?’


Cue a conversation about light and darkness, good and evil, and God. I have nothing against people of the faith, but he actually walked with me without taking the hint that I wasn’t really keen to have this conversation in an underpass on the way home from a long day at work.

Not for the first time my mind took me to some strange places in my dreams last night. I don’t know what prompted the first dream, and the other two were odd in different ways.

Hillary, World Champion?

It began in Las Vegas. At least, I think it was Vegas. My wife and I were watching a boxing match (strange really, as neither of us have any vested interest in boxing), between an unknown guy and… former First Lady Hillary Clinton. Yes, seriously.

Believe it or not, Hillary gave as good as she got, holding her own well into round 6 and possibly beyond. Even in the dream I couldn’t help but wonder ‘WTF’, and no, I don’t know how the fight ended.

War, with… Animals?

Onward to dream two (I don’t recall if this dream was a strange continuation of the first, but it’s so different it deserves to be classed as a separate dream). I’m driving a tank (or I’m a video game character driving a tank) and blasting enemy tanks in some sort of futuristic war. After wading through dirty sewer water, I’m talking to an anthramorphic fox when a nuke goes off. I blame a combo of Guardians of the Galaxy and the North Korean problem for that one.

Poignant Times

I know exactly what brought on the final dream. I was firstly waking around a supermarket with my wife and daughter, when for some reason we had to go off in opposite directions. My little girl wanted to come with me, so off we went to get a card for my Nan’s birthday, even though at this point she has been gone for five years. Still, it mattered to me to get this card – so off I went to find one.

Suddenly, we found ourselves in my Nan’s old home, even though it wasn’t actually her home. My brother was there, and my Nan was there too. She gave me a hug and it felt very real and very emotional (feeling a bit emotional as I write this). Sadly, my daughter couldn’t see her – my Nan was there for my brother and I.

Surreal and touching and emotional.

So the title is slightly misleading. I’m not dreaming of period dramas or ancient Roman battles. I’m actually dreaming about my own past.

To begin with, I’ve had two dreams involving my school chums. The details are a little vague, but one of them appeared to involved taking my wife to a school reunion of some kind. The final dream was about an old job, and meeting the colleagues from that job again.

I’m not sure why I’ve had three consecutive dreams about my past. Plus, they seem to be moving forward – will I eventually dream about the future?! If so, can I please dream up the winning lottery numbers?!

Yesterday I enjoyed a nice trip to the pub, that would have been nicer if the angry drunk hadn’t been there. Never have I seen someone get so worked up over… wait for it… a chair.

Yes folks. That’s the reason for his rage. 

That’s the face I made. What happened exactly? Well, some visitors to the pub (who I think were from Holland – my sincere apologies to the Dutch!) sat down and one of them took an empty, unused chair from another table. Cue drunkard kicking off and launching into a tirade. He succeeded in embarrassing himself and the town, and the town, and in getting himself chucked out the pub to a round of applause. Thus ended the chair saga.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking ‘err, what?’ Well, the post title more or less (more less than more actually) sums up a truly strange dream I had last night. I think I know what inspired it, but even so, it was a trippy dream that I just cannot unravel in my head.


Yeah, that’s pretty much the face I pulled this morning. I was completely bewildered, but let’s start at the beginning. Scooby was on the ground, at some sort of landing pad for a space mission, and he had to get suited up to investigate a radiation leak (or some sort of problem involving radioactive materials). Meanwhile Fred, Daphney and Velma were trying to land a somewhat awkward craft. 

Once landed, the scene shifted. All of a sudden I was overseeing the removal of someone’s cranium and brain – whilst the poor sod was still alive. 

Cue escaping from the scene of the crime. There was also something to do with I’m a Celebrity… And swimming. All in all, complete and thorough confusion. 

I haven’t actually blogged properly for a little while. This occurred to me the other day, when I realised that over the past two weeks, The Legend of Zelda has dominated my site. Usually I’m discussing weird dreams, politics and the various strange events of my life. Let’s do a little of that here shall we?


As usual my subconscious is a mysterious tour de force (or is that farce?). Last night I dreamed I was an Avenger, though I couldn’t figure if I was Spiderman or Iron Man. If I had to pick one to be, I’d be Iron Man, on account of his billions of dollars. Plus, I can’t really swing from building to building in my town.

I also had a very bewildering set of dreams last week, that I had planned to write about, but then went and completely forgot.


Yeah, my bad. The annoying thing is, these dreams were a great showcase for my off the wall, quirky nature.

Strange Events

It might be me being completely paranoid, but every so often the house will creak and groan like someone is in a room that is in fact empty. We know the house was once lived in by an older lady (well, we think she was old). Could our domicile be haunted?!

Ok, probably not, but still…

Another strange quirk of coincidence – a colleague and I both happened to watch Jack Reacher last night, without communicating to each other about it beforehand. It was quite an enjoyable number as it happens, so my wife and I might sit down to watch the sequel at some point in the near future.

Other Stuff

Is it wrong for a 30-something man to be eagerly looking forward to the new Duck Tales series? If so, then I’m as wrong as a meerkat can be!