I have weird dreams. They've always been weird, but last night I had a dream so (and I avoid using this word in general discourse) random that I need to just “put it out there” as they say.

I dreamt that, somehow, I'd got a gig as a dancer in a pantomime “on ice” which had been written by and was starring Cliff Richard and his fierce new protege, Noel Clarke (best known as Mickey in Doctor Who series 1 and 2). I'd been called in at the last moment to dress rehearsals, which were being held in a Megabowl bowling complex at the top of several escalators at the Trocadero Centre in London. The bowling hadn't been stopped as far as I understand it; we were just going to stomp all over the lanes with ice skates on. And it was also a cinema at the same time. As I stooped into the portal to get in (oh yeah, there weren't real doors, just portals) the Peter Pan of Pop squeezed my buttock.

Now, what the actual fuck sort of misfiring chemical receptors are making up my brain?