The Weirdest Dream

I awoke to Bella ‘grooming’ me. She was running her claws through my hair and miaowing in my ear. The little brat cat wanted her breakfast – a nice big bowl of M&S Luxury Tuna. She interrupted a bizarre dream I was having in which I was a guest a George Bush and his family in The White House. My Perfect Cousin (better not mention who I mean. But everyone has one) was living there alone, without her husband and children and was being referred to as ‘The President’s Favourite Girl’. (Well, she was everyone’s favourite girl). Bush was taking pot-shots at Michael Moore and various other ‘left-wing’ journalists from a watch tower. Many of them collapsed in pools of their own blood.

Later, I was sitting with Laura Bush discussing the ‘No Child Left Behind Programme’ and her interest in the process of teaching children to read. We were drinking Earl Grey and eating scones with jam and cream. When I mentioned that I happened to object to presidents shooting journalists, I was escorted from the White House by My Perfect Cousin at gun point. I wasn’t surprised – she always was a treacherous bitch.

Weird dream, huh? Any dream analysts out there?

Or am I simply completely nutso?