1 post tagged “ian dury”
I’m sorry, no I am sincerely sorry if this embarrasses anyone or repulses anyone for that matter but I need to talk about something that has me a tad bewildered, scared, and muddle-headed. Okay, here goes…I had the most freakiest sex dream. For the love of baby Jesus I’m having sex dreams with Henry Rollins whilst Ian Dury looks on.
I woke up this morning and had the fuzziest head; I opened one eye and looked around. I was sleeping side ways in my huge bed. What the fuck? How the fuck? I was completely disorientated. I shut my eyes tightly and then gasped. I instantaneously remembered what I dreamt about and I jolted out of bed and my jelly legs let me down…literally! I smacked the floor and in the process seriously hurt myself. I heard my head go splat on the floorboards and then almost like a 7 second delay sort of thing, I felt the pain. My entire left side from head to toe is so sore.
Then for some spastic reason I jumped up off the floor and ran for my wardrobe and opened the door and looked in. You know I honestly believe I was still half asleep. I then literally jumped back into bed and looked under my doona just in case Henry was in bed with me. I threw the doona off me looked at my mattress and then threw the doona back on me.
It felt so real, you know how you wake up and you could have sworn that what you dreamt about had really transpired? I don’t want to be dreaming of Henry like this…well okay maybe just a little but it’s desecrating the image I have of Henry. As for Ian Dury, I thought the dude was cool…but watching me bonk Henry? Oh man, this could not have happened.
The dream was so real I could seriously feel Henry’s breath on my face, okay, lets get serious here, maybe it was Elvis’ breath I was feeling??? And Ian Dury was clapping!!!
I got up out of my bed and slowly walked out of my room but paused in the doorway and looked over my shoulder at my bed just in case and then literally hobbled to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face. I stood in front of the vanity and stared at my reflection and felt this wave of disgust. Not disgust that Henry and Ian were in my dreams and in my bed but more disgust in myself.
I went into work feeling really dirty. All the girls usually congregate in the sterilisation room each morning where we sort of “triage” the day ahead. I couldn’t handle being around the girls today so sort of went and sat at my desk still with brain fuzz and Miss A and Suez followed me out where I blurted my dream out. As I was telling them what I dreamt about, I remembered more of my dream and told them that my hair was hurting today and in my dream I would pull Henry’s hair as he was about to…fuck how do I say this politely and with a bit of decorum…ummm…as Henry ejaculated. I must have been pulling my own hair! I couldn’t even see Henrys dick as it was covered with a fig leaf! What is up with me?
The girls all went “ewww” and made me feel even dirtier than I was already feeling. Why am I having sex dreams about and with Henry? I mean this is not the first time; I have been having sex dreams with Henry for over 4 years but none were EVER this vivid.
My entire day I was anxious to get home so I cold ring my mate Easy who claims that he can analyse dreams. The very second I got home I rang Easy and told him the whole dream and pleaded for an explanation.
Easy’s theory is that having sex with a “known” man or a “celebrity” means that he will do me a favour. (cut to me letting out an evil snicker) Not completely satisfied with Easy’s interpretation I rang my friend Leah who claims that sex dreams are all about alleviating physical and psychic distress. I replied with a “huh?” and told her I would see her on the weekend and hung up on her.
Maybe I am really into Ian Dury rather than Henry Rollins? Where is Freud or Jung when you need them the most?
I remember Elvis yelping last night Holy fuck what did I do to my dog?
Reney
P.S – A warning to Tee, if you so much as even suggest that this was a wet dream I will slap your hairy arse from here to Timbuktu AND if you even suggest that I need a booty call be assured I will fly to Sydney for the sole purpose of slicing your salami off – Lorena Bobbitt style. Got it?