Those are our own personal miracles. We all dream, we have dreams… Some weird character on our brain takes over…
And people interpret them… you always have bonkers dreams:
“I’m walking down the road, and a man comes up to me, covered in jam, and he sings ‘Oh, I am a man… hippo…’ And he brings me spoons, and his buttocks explode, and his brother drives a small snail towards me, very slowly...
What does it mean?”
And their interpretation is always very ordinary:
“Oh, it means you didn’t get on with your Father when you were a child...”
“Why doesn’t it say that in my dream, then? What’s all the bloody snail thing?”
You never have a straight dream, do you?
You never say, “I’m walking on the road, I go into a shop and buy a Mars bar.”
Cause that kind of dream will probably mean:
“Ah, this means that you’re from Mars, and your ears are made out of jam, and your brother lives in Kent, and his buttocks explode to the size of a balloon.”
“That’s very true!”
- Eddie Izzard "Glorious" -
