Bizarro-World

I know this is an odd way to break a blogging drought, but I just had to share this with you before I forget.

I just woke up, and I had the strangest of all strange dreams. Certainly no meaning to it, just the revelation of my deep-seated psychosis.

The dream started when I pulled up outside of NASA Space Centre (in my work van, for some reason). I was there as I had been selected as part of a new program to include civilians in the space program to fly to the moon in a two seater spacecraft. The reasons as to why I was selected remain unclear.

I received my equipment and was told that I would get a full briefing from the other crewmember in the hangar area. I went through to where the ship was (nice ship, too), and looked at the crew manifest. Imagine my surprise when I found out that the other crewmember was George Bush. Now imagine my surprise that I was put down as Mission Commander, with the Prez as my copilot.

After a bit, the Prez comes in, and he's properly stinking drunk. He looks at the manifest and then says that he's the commander as legally it's his spaceship as Commander-In-Chief. I pointed out that it was all written in black and white that he was my bitch and he got a bit upset. He scribbled the names out on the manifest and wrote them in the other way round (he also spelt his name wrong). Then he jumped into the pilots seat and strapped himself in while he locked the canopy saying he was the pilot now and there was nothing I could do about it.

I was about to argue with him, so he got on the radio and said that I was a terrorist, which cued up a Benny Hill-esque chase through a maze of corridors. I was being chased by James Woods and the actor guy from 'The Game' (James Rebhorn, thanks IMDB), along with a scientist with a limp who was that fat cooking detective from 'Pie in the Sky' on UK TV (Richard Griffiths, thanks again).

The dream ended when I was helped to safety through an emergency exit by John Cleese. Then I woke up.

Seriously odd.