Hope fully I am resurrecting this in the correct place!
I had a dream last night involving Matt, Thom Yorke and foot massages which unfortunately isn’t as interesting as it sounds as I instantly started stressing about the cleanliness of my house and went off to clean forgetting about them entirely. 🙁
So this morning Eddie V and I were in bed… actually a cot we were forced to share in a small cabin in the woods with no heat… but I digress… Things were going really well. Did I mention I was 25 again? And then I found out he had borrowed my vintage Martin guitar without asking and there were four…. FOUR!… holes through the top wood. He claimed to have no idea how they got there.
And that is the story of how I cock-blocked my own wet dream.
I had a dream that was actually quite horrible, wherein the band were performing in a small venue, sort of a classy gentleman’s club type affair. Suddenly a crazy hobo came in and held them at gunpoint until the police arrived! After which, Matt was all ‘Nah man, it’s cool, I’m alright’ and just carried on performing right where they had left off. Such a little trooper.
Last night I dreamt I was seeing the band in a small venue (hm, topic theme emerging?) It was going really well, I was at the front and everything. LH bounds in and tells me that I need to come with her, so I do, embarking on a madcap flight through streets to the band’s hotel. Employing advanced spy techniques LH evades hotel staff and leads me to the band’s hotel rooms. Which turn into a 2 up 2 down semi somewhere grim. The tiny front room holds a bed and a bookcase full of Matt’s notebooks. I start rifling through feeling only a tiny bit bad. The front door opens, Matt comes in, wearing glasses and looking distracted. He doesn’t see us, gets something, leaves, then double takes and comes back. He doesn’t seem too bothered that we are in his house, but in my dream I explain this away through Green Gloves. Then I woke up.