I'm sure more happened in my dream, but he bit I remember is Will Self dropping me off at my house afer driving me home from the pub or something, and he said "Who do you support?"
"Oxford," I said.
"So do I! I go most weeks." he said. "Is there a game tomorrow?"
"Yeh, we're playing Southend at home" I said. "
"Gimme your number, and we can meet up at the game." he said.
So we swapped numbers, and he drove off. I then remembered that we'd played Southend today, and we havn't got a gme tomorrow. I was mortified that I could go to a game with a well respected author, and I told him there was a game tomorrow, when there wasn't.
Go on then, interpret that lot.
― Johnney B (Johnney B), Sunday, 14 September 2003 09:10 (twenty-two years ago)
Thats wierd. Very wierd. But i do respect Will Self (even though I actually havent yet read any of his stuff, but I probably will sometime soon) for completely urinating over Richard Littlejohn that one time on BBC Radio, ooh i googled the transcript:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/1390395.stm― Bob Shaw (Bob Shaw), Sunday, 14 September 2003 09:50 (twenty-two years ago)
Ermmm...your subconscious looking for a male role-model to lend a mentoring hand, but is not sure it how much this will involve bonding around 'traditional' male activities such as football.
― Bob Six (bobbysix), Sunday, 14 September 2003 10:01 (twenty-two years ago)
Or maybe, Martin Amis in "Money"style, you're projecting yourself into a minor role in a self-reflexive Will Self novel. Remember that? Martin Amis is the vaguely-known writer in Will Self's neighbourhood and pub, who appalls that protagonist by the fact that he rolls his own. Got your rizlas?
― antexit, Sunday, 14 September 2003 10:10 (twenty-two years ago)