7337/19857
What a strange world where a person can admit to killing 25 people and walk free. I’ve killed nowhere near that many, but I’ll be sent to prison if they find out what I’ve done.
I had a dream where I was about to have sex with someone who was not my wife, but to be fair to the dream me I don’t think I was married in the dream. I still didn’t want to do it though, because even in my dreams when my wife is forgotten I am still faithful to her. I was hiding in the toilet. The toilet was covered in ancient piss stains (all over the outside of the porcelain). I was fretting about whether I should clean the toilet in case whoever I was about to sleep with thought I had done all the wee.
I came out of the bathroom and there were suddenly a lot of people in the bedroom, Maybe eight or more. It was clear we were about to take part in an orgy. Now this is not something I would have been up for even before I was a married man, but surely in my dreams I should be allowed to indulge in this kind of fantasy. Just as a reward for being a faithful husband. I have to be allowed some licence in my dreams.
Sadly one of the people in the room was TV’s Emma Kennedy. Somehow, even in the dreamscape, she’d got wind of the fact that something amazing was about to happen and she wanted to ruin if for me. Even though in this case I hadn’t been keen on having sex with one person, let alone a room of them. I remarked to her that her presence made this into a nightmare (and she laughed), so I thought about whether this was a dream and decided it definitely wasn’t. Emma was trying to organise things, saying the sofa was for people who were up for anything and the bed for the less experimental. I felt very uncomfortable. Not just because I wasn’t happy about the whole Emma situation. I hadn’t wanted to have sex at all, and now I was being asked to have sex with everyone, though not Emma. Even in a dream we knew that was never going to happen. I’d have sex with the men ahead of her. At least the dream me reacted in character, as I decided I didn’t want to be a part of any of this and tried to leave. There was a door blocking the table and I was trying to move it when my alarm went off and I woke up.
I was relieved to escape the nightmare orgy, but also disappointed with my dream self. Why waste a dream on trying to get out of an orgy when I could have had a dream about an orgy (and one without my platonic friends in it)? It’s one thing being faithful in real life, but I didn’t vow to not diddle people in my dreams.
But there’s a lot to unpack from all that and I don’t know if I like what it says about my psyche. Or my relationship with Emma.
I have only once been asked to join an orgy in real life. During the Talking Cock tour in 2002, in which I mentioned the fact that I’d never had a threesome. After the show a group of mildly nerdy students approached me (six of them I think) and said they were about to go off to their room for an orgy and would I like to join them to fulfil my dream. I was in a relationship at the time and heading home to my girlfriend, so I politely declined, but even had I been single I think that might have been a bit much for me. To never have had a threesome and go straight into a sevensome. I was never really one to grasp life by the horns and would often feel awkward in even normal social situations and absent myself (even if there was a table in front of the door). Now I look back at it and with the hindsight knowledge that I was five years away from settling down, maybe I should have gone for it. But you know that Emma Kennedy would have somehow found out what was going on and turned up to spoil it.
I’d love to have been the kind of hedonist who could do stuff like this without self-consciousness, but that’s not who I am. I would have found it too embarrassing. And I’m not bisexual. Had it been six women would I have gone for it? Sadly I think probably not. If I can’t even do it in my dreams. Also I should have been doing that kind of thing as a student, but I wasn’t even very good at getting into twosomes then. Plenty of menage a un though.
Anyway, apologies to those accommodating young peopled for turning down their offer. You’re all in your 40s now. I wonder if you’re still together.
I forgot my torch for tonight’s dog walk, but it turned out that it didn’t matter. The moon was bright. Not as bright as day, but bright enough to see and the world looked eerie and beautiful. The countryside is OK.
I popped to the supermarket earlier and they had a big display of Shredded Wheat. I had forgotten about Shredded Wheat. It feels very 20th Century. I don’t know when the last time I ate it would have been. So I bought a box and had some Shredded Wheat. It was the same as before. I quite like it, partly for the nostalgia value. But even in its heyday it was a poor second to Weetabix. Can’t believe it’s still going. The big news is that they now come in paper containers of two rather than three, which makes sense as no one can eat three and you don’t want one going stale in the pack.
I had a joke about Shredded Wheat in 1988. Can’t remember it fully but it included a reference to Henry D Perky who was mentioned in the ads at the time as the inventor (haven’t googled that, but pretty certain I’ve got the name spot on 35 years later). It was something along the lines of “Nobody can eat three shredded wheat. That’s right. That’s because eating Shredded Wheat is like eating pubic hair.”
I didn’t say it was a good joke.
