Yup, August 24th. My major problem was with the daylight savings thing, it should be 15 hours ahead!
This is important for the Labor Day record...right?
Yup again. Were trying to figure out what time we of the land of Oz should present ourselves.
Last night, I only had one dream that I could remember. I usually have about six.
It's not as disturbing or weird as usual, but freaky in its own special way. I was in this theatre, because I was forced to meet Beckett's boring nephew or something. So, I was sat down, having to endure 'Waiting for Godot' or something-- I can't remember-- and the adulterous England football manager Sven Goran Erikkson was sitting next to me. I don't know how I'd think of him-- after all, I just ignore gossip full stop, never mind stuff about some random Swede's private life.
Anyway, the people when they started talking of him. He was sat there, eating pork scratchings, and then he started to sing his sob story to me. And I then said, 'hey, Sven. You should go to the West. Live out your dreams, you know, get a place away from it all. Why not?' And then he was enthralled with this idea. He randomly started saying, 'you're about my height.'
And there was this pig man sitting next to him, with a body of a man and the head of a pig, and he was introduced as his cousin! Then, I was called up on the stage to be Viola from Twelfth Night, and the pigman was Feste, even though I asked him to go away.
Yep, we're in daylight savings time now, we revert to standard time at 2:00 AM on the last Sunday of October.
So, September 6th, it'll still be daylight savings time = 14 hours ahead of us.
Which means 5:00 AM for you. Which I see you already have in your signature. *coff* Nevermind me, I had a guest this weekend and am a bit out of the loop...
O, I'm glad that it's sorted out.
Thanks anyway, Soz. Nice to know someone's thinking of me!
Drom, let me see, from that dream I would say that you love Shakespeare and really don't like England.
Wonder if I'm close...
Heavy stuff Drom...I need another hundred bucks to interpret that dream...
Alright, interpret this, Pan my man!
Last night (and I have posted this elsewhere) I dreamed that I owned a cattle station in the Australian outback (think McClouds daughters all those of you who know Aussie TV). I got a visit from Prince WIlliam. He wanted me to teach him how to run a cattle station. He looked quite nice in a DryzaBone coat and Akubra.
Think hard, you'll get it soon, I'm sure.
Don't have to think hard. You're waiting to be swept off your feet a la Knight On The White Charger. This is quite a common dream amongst lovely, nubile young women.
Well, flattered as I am by your comments, I'm afraid you're slightly off base.
The meaning of my dream is quite simple. I spend too much time here! (Remember that thread in General about shagging royalty? Not that the dream actually got that far, the silly prince actually wanted me to teach him how to run a cattl station!!!)
1. I purposely stayed out of the royalty-shagging thread. Although I have met Charles and earlier Lord Mountbatten I have no interest in Royal shennanigans.
2. I still think my interpretation is correct
3. I'd love to make clicking noises with the roof of my mouth and make loads of money interpreting Xhosa dreams
I would too. There must be so much money and satsfaction, out there, in the world of tribal psychoanalysis.
(Incidentally, when did you meet them, Panz?)
This is totally not about my having met stars...ok?
Promise.
OK ... In 1970 I graduated from Atlantic College in Wales UK and Lord Louis was one of the founders of the school. We shook hands and he congratulated me for having led a boycott against the bloody South Africans at a Surf Rescue Championship.
All the good and fair in him was apparent that day. And all the bad and unfair came at his death. I still have strong feelings about it.
In 1973 Atlantic College sponsored a sail around the world to raise money for scholarships. I sailed the Boston to Wash DC leg and met some amazing DC numbskulls like John Mitchell and Chuck Colson. They came out to greet us at the Press Club
Then in 1986 a fund raiser was held for the Armand Hammer College in the Southwest. It was held in Palm Beach and we were invited to meet with Charles at the polo grounds in Wellington. The real thrill tho was sitting with my wife at a table with Donald Trump(next to my wife)Ivana(next to me)
I was so nervous and smitten with Ivana. While my wife had no idea who the Donald was(at the time he owned a one off football team) and kept jabbering away at him much to his consternation.
To wrap it up. I've always been keen on Charles and his love of bettering mankind. It's a noble trait the English have carried for the last 300 years.
Please then excuse my Australian lack of respect for our monarchy.
Incidently, did you know that the Queen of England has more powers here than in England?
BTW, I will freely admit that the idea of a prince knocking on your door has a certain fascination for any young lady, but I contend that the dream was not instigated by an overweening desire in my heart to run off and marry Prince William, rather it was a direct translation of my comments in the "royalty shagging" thread, accompanied by an overtone of my Australian-ness which is often born in upon me while partaking in discussion in this forum.
See, I had a weird A2K dream. Aint that nice.
Of course I didn't mean Prince William, Fortune. Perhaps it's a cultural thing but over here Knight on a White Charger is a symbolic thing. Your Australianess endears me to you for you see I grew up with a remarkably intelligent ,3 language speaking, incredibly beautiful woman....my mother.
Those were interesting anecdotes, Panzade! I have always thought that 'thieves for their robbery have authority| when judges steal themselves,' but I am glad that they are putting something back into the mix.
