Totally Random

I can hardly ever recall any of my dreams. I'm only aware of actually having them on those odd occasions when I wake up in the middle of a dream and even then I can only remember details for about five seconds before it's all completely gone.

Oh, no! Charlotte can read other people's dreams!
It's getting a bit too much like Inception in here. I'm now off to tip my chair back into a bath to save myself.

My favourite (in terms of oddness) dream I remember involved me being chased by one of those crowds you get in old horror films, with the pitchforks and flaming torches, for reasons I either never knew or can't recall.
To escape from them, I hid in an old, large Victorian greenhouse. I thought I was alone in there, but up popped Bing Crosby, in his sailor's hat and blazer, and he proceeded to run through his entire repertoire of crooning tunes. I couldn't leave, for fear of being captured by the baying mob, so I had to sit it out.
After a while, the crowd dissipated, so I snuck out and managed to make my way home. Just as I was heading up the driveway, out jumped old Scottish music hall entertainer Sir Harry Lauder, who proceeded to stab me with thee sgian-dubh from he produced from his sock.
Then I woke up.

Years later, I discovered by chance that Bing Crosby had done a cover version of one of Harry Lauder's songs - Roamin' in the Gloamin' - and I wondered whether I'd subconsciously known that all along, and that's why I'd connected the two in my dream.

I've just discovered that it's quite difficult to type whilst laughing at em's dream.
So bizarre yet so very specific.
And the man in the kilt is truly the stuff of nightmares! :shudder: