Seriously though I really do like Size 10 Arial. Almost all my work is computer-based at the moment and I don't think I'd be able to survive it if I was working with another font.

And if sounds ludicrously mundane - yes, it is. But it's all in a good cause.

No noise in the world so grating and mocking
Than the brutal sound of the bathroom door locking

Dream (Another)

Dreamt I was in Argentina. We were in the Cordoba area. I asked my mother why we weren't going to Buenos Aires. She invoked some comparative point which seemed to say "families who want to waste their money go to Buenos Aires", and that we were not one of those families. The place actually reminded me of Broadstairs in Kent, except there was no sea or any other memories associated with that place - it was the buildings, narrow streets and contours which made it seem like Broadstairs. We were with my cousin Melanie. I walked outside alone and saw a German café. I wanted to go inside, but the food didn't look very nice and everyone seemed to be speaking German. Also I noticed I was wearing a blue jumper, which somehow I imagined to be a barrier to entry. So I just strutted around outside looking at them, and they, occasionally, at me. Some people came to pick us up. They were Argentinians but we spoke to them in English. They were driving us to the border. At one point the driver accelerated to such a speed that we took off like an airplane. We were all a little concerned though as it was clear from our trajectory that we were not going to stair airborne forever, and that the longer our leap, the further we'd have to fall. We landed safely. He said the trick to his driving technique was not only to go fast, but to change the country around him as he advances. He was keen to emphasise that this did not merely mean the roads or the landscape, but also its cultural assumptions, as if changing both together made the journey progress that much smoother.

Standard

This might be the least illuminating post I ever write, but I've realised I actually really like Size 10 Arial font.

Another Cheap Rhyme

I met her on a rail replacement bus
a funny way to start
She said something funny
I said something smart

The seats weren't very comfy
infact they were rather hard
but she smiled at me warmly
and gave me her business card

And so I met her once more
this time on the train
she wasn't like the others
boring, busy and plain

We both got off at Croydon
I asked which way she'd go
She said "my place, you wanna?"
How could I say no

And then we hailed a taxi
the journey wasn't long
she slipped her hand into mine
my heart went into song

We pulled up outside her place
"£10 please mate" I paid
the cabby drove off, cheers mate
tonight I'm getting laid

And up to her appartment
upon the second floor
she giggled as we undid
the lock on the front door

It all happened so quickly
yet I'd gladly stay for more
I lay inside her, grinning
we tumbled on the floor

An hour later I got dressed
she brought coffee in a mug
I sat there slurping slowly
feet perched upon the rug

Suddenly there was knocking
she undid the top bolt
a man stood there angry
she cried "it wasn't my fault!"

He then came in and sternly
asked that I should leave
his brow was boiling furiously
fists shaking from their sleeves

"my daughter's not for picking,
no fallen apple here
now leave before I get angry
do I make myself quite clear?"

He quaked, if only I had known earlier
I'd have left her clean
for the girl I'd had, I later learnt
was only seventeen

So off I went, sad and sullen
out the flat and into the street
I couldn't see a taxi about
so I proceeded on my feet

And back to the station I lumbered
with a sigh running through my head
the train to Redhill wasn't running
so I got on the bus instead

So there I was back on the rail replacement
but from her now forever apart
now I need somebody to replace
the rails in my heart

Royal Fish

Yet Another Dream

I got shot at! Me, my brother and one of his old friends from school (God knows what the selection process for my dreams is) were sitting playing cards on a table by a ground-floor window. The window is wide open. A boy is standing in the street, looking at us. I am holding a book. After a short interval in which the boy is staring resentfully at us, he comes up to the window and, slurring his speech, demands to know what we're playing, and seemed to want to take my book. Within seconds he has become angry and, as if he was determined upon this course long ago he takes out the gun. He aims at me as I run out of the room. He misses narrowly. After a minute or so (or faster, we all know how instantly things happen in dreams) I return to the room. My brother is fine, his friend has escaped and the gunman is nowhere to be seen. At first I am relieved that no-one else has been shot at. However, I am reminded that there is somebody out there who actively wants to kill me and this thought haunted me for the rest of the dream. Until at one point, later on, I started discussing it wilth a friend. "Of course" I conclude, "that must have been a dream. Nobody is trying to kill me. That room we were playing cards in, it was like my brother's room in real life but on the ground floor. And I can't think of any reason why [brother's friend' would be there! We haven't seen him for years!". However, I was still anxious about whether this new assessment of mine was indeed correct.

At a later point in the dream I was walking around St Ann's Well park (or a similar, larger version with fewer trees which only appears in my dreams) dressed at the Pope and, on spotting two boys having a minor quibble I ordered them 'on the Authority of the Pope' to stop. Indeed they did.

Funny Old Dreams

I dreamt that I was having a practice job interview... with my grandfather, up in his top floor flat. My brother and father were in the same room and were talking with eachother, out loud. I was angry with them for not taking the interview seriously. (N.B. I have a real-life interview on Monday afternoon)

Later I dreamt that I was sitting on a long table with a lot of people from school, none of whom I particularly liked. There were quite a few spare seats and some guy (also from school, whom I always despised) was darting his eyes around calculating where would be best to sit. He sat in my area, where there were an above-average proportion of girls. I told him out loud that his reason for choosing this spot was pathetic and that, moreover, he deliberately chose to sit next to me so he could try his 'alpha-male- routine whilst sitting next to someone whom he didn't regard as rival.

Later still I dreamt that, after the meal, we had all got into a bus. Suddenly the bus, along with all the other signs of human life, disappeared. I was alone with two others, James and José (I don't think the J's are significant) and I was walking around in awe. I felt as though we had been transported to the distant future. I was making ridiculous comments "the sun is about to eat us. see how red everything is? this is phobos. this is the photon." while expansive new age music swirled around ominously as if we were at the navel of the universe.

Strange Dream

I dreamt that I was in Swansea looking for the Dylan Thomas statue. As is often the case in mydreams, though the place was instinctively familiar to me it was not the same as it was in real life. There were two railway stations on opposite sides of the road. One was labelled Brighton, the other Inverness - the stations were defined by their destination, not by their starting point (Swansea).