Weird dream this morning, and not a very nice one at that. I was in an exam at school and was constantly distracted. I had two essay questions to answer in an hour and, half-way through, I had written nothing. I was raging. Whenever I dream about school, there's always a mix of all the people who I ever went to school with, from different schools and at different ages, all in the same class.
Got up around 3pm. It could have been earlier if I had got out of bed after the bad exam dream, but I went back to sleep to see what would happen. I was in another class, watching my first crush (Caroline) pilfer pencils from some kid who came round all the classes asking people to sign up for something or other. She signed up, but kept the pencil. It was one of those orange ones with the gold tip for the rubber on the end. (Methinks she used to have one of them when I sat next to her in primary school.)
I was going to go out to do some bitty shopping today: toiletries, stamps (for the letter which has been sent back to me twice now because it doesn't have enough postage on it), and to take the videos back from last night. It started pishing it down with rain, however, so I took, as they say, a raincheck.
When Richard arrived with his friend McCaig (pronounced McKay-g, but spelt ::?::, who is also called Richard), Richard (that's my brother) gave me a parcel that had arrived for me in the post. I was stoked because I knew it would be my long-lost Dog, who had been on holiday in America at my ex-girlfriend's house for almost two years to the day. I also got some other stuff back, including my beloved Ayr United top. (Just you watch the Honest Men storm up the league, now that I'm wearing my lucky top every superstitious Saturday!) She can still be a top gal, can my KBO, when she tries. Alas for her taste in men these days!
Went to rugby training and got through a rather tough fitness gruel without spewing my ring. I felt like choking chunks at times, but declined to partake in barforamic grass decorating. Some poor bastard snapped a ligament or tendon or summink right at the end of the sesh when we were playing rugby league. I was right next to him when he did it (though it wasn't my fault). It went "smack" and must have been a tad painful. It will hurt his pockets worse than his legs, however, as I am led to believe that he didn't have medical insurance, which puts him in big doo-doo in this country (Germany).
I was talking to a Zimbabwean guy called Chris (great name) after training, while I was eating my schnitzel and chips and drinking my spezi. He told me about what it's like for the white people in Zimbabwe, but he feels sorry for the black people because they are the ones who go hungry. Mugabe gives all the land that he reclaims from the white farmers to his cronies, who keep all the profits and produce to themselves. Some of the white farmers actually paid for the land that they farm on and did not just inherit it from their colonial ancestors. To be eligible to buy their land in the mid-eighties, they had to rescind their British passport and pay for the land at the going, commerical rate, so now that they are in trouble and need to leave the country, they can't come to the UK because of our shitty asylum laws. It's a bunch of fubar.
Watched another Eddie Murphy stand-up video called "Raw", which he did two years later than the one we saw last night. He did a nifty impression of Bill Cosby. His stand-up is so much better than his films, although Coming to America was kinda cool.
I'm off to sleep with my darling Dog by my side for the first time in over 730 nights. Seeyallsoon.