Bad Dreams

Bad Dreams

Bad dreams are real cunts, especially those where you wake up shaking in a sweat.
I had such a dream the other night, where a ghostly figure appeared at the foot of my bed. In my dream I could speak to it and so I politely asked “who the fuck are you?” “I am the Ghost of Christmas Yet to come” it replied.

Thinking that this all sounded a bit familiar, I asked the cunt if he’d ended up in the wrong play. “No, Blunt, you old cunt. I bring you a message. Come with me and I will take you forward to the Christmas of 2020.”
Before I could start regretting having my ninth glass of red that evening, I was whisked away up into the skies and found myself flying over the snow covered landscape of the British Isles. It was still night-time and the roads were deserted, apart from the occasional sighting of a police car or ambulance.

Finally, I arrived on the edge of a large city which I guessed from the large number of minarets towering into the skies must be London. Why had the ghost brought me, a simple Northern lad to the large metropolitan city which I had long ago forsaken as MY capital city? Suddenly, below me, out of the mist appeared a giant makeshift hospital. This must be that Nightingale hospital that people keep banging on abahhht! It was a feverish scene with staff rushing about outside and a fleet of ambulances constantly depositing patients at the doors.

It was now daylight as the ghost deposited me on a typical London street. I found it difficult to read any of the signs as most of them were in Arabic. He pointed out one house and told me that was the house that Tiny Tim Cratchit used to live in.
“What do you mean, used to,” I asked? The ghost told me he’d finally succûmbed to the virus. The streets were nearly empty because of self isolation and the very few people that were about were wearing protective face masks. Oh! Wait a minute, fuck, those are yash- masks! “It’s going to be a dreary Christmas this year”, the ghost said. “All the poultry farms have been closed down because of the spread of bird flu. You can’t buy a turkey for love nor money. Eggs are like gold. The only ones in existence are the ones that Moggie’s hoarded!

He finally took me to a graveyard and showed me one particular grave which had the appearance of a pauper’s grave. On it, it said . . . . .
“Here lies Bertie Blunt. Died London 28th December 2020.”
“Hold on a minute,” I said. “I didn’t ask for my funeral to be held in this God forsaken city!
What can I do to change all this?”
“Nothing, I’m afraid. The second spike has started.”
Fortunately, I did awake at this point. However, bad dreams are real cunts and
can leave you shit scared!

Nominated by Bertie Blunt Tory Cunt

77 thoughts on “Bad Dreams

  1. See that ghost Bertie? It wasn’t Dale Winton by any chance?
    I bet it was.

    • Come to think of it Freddie, he did say something like “Bertie, you’re about to check out for the last time.”

  2. I hope there is a vampire in it.
    Right bastards to get off you,strong as fuck.
    An army of mudslime hating vampires would be great.
    Or a nightmare.
    Who knows?

    • Yeah, convince the millennials that the peacefuls are vampires just like they’ve seen on the telly. I can see them now, running round the streets, with garlic and wooden stakes looking for ragheads and letterboxes. Do you think they’re dumb enough to swallow it?
      Worth a try.

  3. This started out a bit like the Canterville Ghost, then changed to the Snowman and then took a dark turn.

    Still much better than the majority of BBC ‘dramas’ thought.

    • 😅👍🏼 I must admit Harold, it was inspired by the Snowman.

  4. Had a dream the other night. I was engaged to the sister of a Northumbrian gentleman farmer and spent my nights in dissolute drunken shenanigans in ‘the other pub in the village’ and my days searching for the Reichsbank gold or peasant-hunting with my future brother-in-law.

    Shame I had to wake up really,

  5. I had a bad dream of taking St Greta of Thunderbirds up the ‘arris, while she was screeching on about the end of the world, or something daft.

    I think we were on some rich cunt’s yacht heading towards the Canary Islands. And at the wheel was Richard fucking Branson, smoking a la-de-dah, with that big smug grin on his chops, and his pockets full of taxpayer’s cash!

    But then a giant shark appeared on the horizon; and I shouted to some cunt “we’re gonna need a bigger boat!” Just then the shark swam up close and popped its head out of the water. It was a dead ringer for Flabbott, and it had Magic Grandpa’s twitching corpse in it huge mouth full of razor sharp teeth!

    And then my alarm clock went off and that was that.

  6. Second spike my balls, all government propaganda from the department of Gobbels himself.

    Fuck all the rubbish, for the last few weeks I’ve been doing just as I fancy….I would rather take my chances with the virus than spend the rest of my (admittedly wretched) festering away in fear dependent on handouts from Mr Handcock and the shagging womble.

    Fuck if those in charge can’t obey the very rules they are dreaming up then anal sauce to the lot of them.

    Fuck the lot of you if that’s how you see your future.

  7. My oneiric disturbances appear to be linked to having been off the pop for a couple of days. So I’ve no idea where the government gets this ‘drinking is bad for you’ nonsense from when clearly the opposite is true.

    • Was it for a rich old widow that you were doing a house clearance in a Mac, Miserable?

      • No Bertie ( good nom by the way) a bloke who hoarded, ive made out like a bandit!
        Dead chuffed, loads of tools, paintbrushes, all new, even some socks in my size!
        Ghoulish but im ok with deadmans socks,
        What he’d of wanted.☺

      • Not a chance im sitting in a plastic bubble like a fuckin goldfish Bertie!
        And knowing the landlord he wouldnt ask me too.
        I cant wait!!
        Pubs open, best news Ive heard!
        Im earning again, the pubs will open, just needs to rain now, heaven.
        This is truly gods chosen country isnt it?🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🍺🍻☺

    • ‘Was it a typographical error or a category error, Miles?’

      Neither Honeydew.

      ‘Mistakes are the portals of discovery’.

      If you had looked closely enough through that portal (the asterisk) you woukd have seen a tiny picture of Asterix the Gaul .

      Its true.

    • Good luck kicking the fags.

      I recognise that Onedin Line feem choon from ‘Caligula’ where he and his sister are shagging in the fields.

      Look out for the lemures, nasty by-product of ill humours.

  8. I had strange dream once where I was a copper and as part of a sting operation, I was having a meal with a WPC and we were posing as a couple to entrap a known felon and ne’er do well.

    Anyway, this mixed race gentleman came up and offered us both some naughty salt. When we declined, he looked the WPC up and down and said he wanted to stick his tongue up her arsehole.

    At which point we knew we’d got our man and the rest of the team swooped in to arrest him.
    He kept saying he knew naffink abaaaht it though.

  9. Bad dreams eh ? Cummings gets sacked….Bojo is alone and vulnerable as the vultures circle….Bojo challenged…..Bojo loses…….The Baker Boys fix it for an extension ( in the national interest of course ) we pay 40 Billion each year of the never ending extension, we foot the bill for the collapse of the euro, the EUBank, Kweer Starmer is found to have been knobbing Theresa all along, and……… just before I wak up…we clear all debts incurred by Germany and take it up the ass from the nazi cunts forevermore.

    THAT was the dream…. The fucking reality of it happening is the nightmare !

  10. Last night I dreamt I was out buying some vegetables.

    I took considerable time carefully selecting them – two red peppers and some broccoli.

    But when I went to pay I found I’d neglected to bring any cash!

    Then, as if by magic, I found my contactless debit card in my jeans back pocket and was eagerly proffering it for payment when…

    I woke up!

    Most frustrating not knowing whether payment was approved or not.

  11. No way will a fellow cunter be buried as a pauper in Londonistan Bertie. I have set up a GoFundMe page and started the ball rolling with a £5 donation with a ‘Buy me a decent headstone’ appeal. Miserable has already said he is doing the catering, some good honest Northern food, Fiddler with a blast of his shotguns in a gun salute and Creampuff on the bagpipes.

    • Thanks LL that’s very comforting. I’m sure with Creampuff on the bagpipes, you’ll have a wail of a time. I’m leaving my book of “perfect puns” to you, although I’m sure Mrs Liquidator will find more use for it.

      • My dreams are usually work-related, even though I retired ten years ago, ant unfortunately they’re all of the dry variety.

      • No way will I play fucking bagpipes! Hate ’em!

        Before the lockdown we had an SNP bagpipe terrorist beggar cunt making his stinking noise up the High Street. Every cloud….

        I’m more a drummer me. Love hitting things.

        Bertie’s funeral? Count me in. Will even bring my own sticks and old biscuit tins!

      • I insist after I’ve gone, that you have a “Bang for Bertie” night every Thursday. Who or what you bang is entirely up to you!

    • I might have got it wrong Moggie but wasn’t it you that couldn’t buy any anywhere? Or was it Allan?

      • I did say I hadn’t seen any on several occasions, but I wasn’t after any then. it was just an observation. Like I still can’t get bread flour, after 2 fucking months.

      • Asda is supposed to be selling flour from their own bakeries which they bag up for you.

      • Thats true.
        Nelstrops flour mill, know it well.
        Dangerous places flour mills, can blow up,
        Minute flecks of flour dust in the air, some gormless cunt wanders in with a fag?..💥
        Like a bomb going off.

      • They do but it’s just standard plain flour, no use for bread. If I remember I’m going to ask next time I go why they can’t do the same with standard wholemeal and also strong white and wholemeal flour. It puzzles me that they have almost always had some self-raising in stock.

      • Never have bad dreams or nightmares,
        Probably because im a honest man.
        No guilt, or fear of reprisals for misdeeds etc.
        I sleep wonderfully and dream of awfully nice things, puppies, lambs,
        Nice flowers, and the bombs raining down on China….

      • There was a flour mill explosion 5 years ago at Bosley, near Macclesfield that
        killed four people.

      • I hope this goes in the right place.. It’s triboluminescence Honeydew – best demonstrated by locating some pals somewhere with no light source whatsoever (a cave is good). Once the old eyes are accustomed to the darkness, start chewing polo mints with open mouths – the effect is truly astounding…

  12. When you imbibe cynicism to the deepest depths of your soul and reject all the various cunts of the modern world, also known as being a cynical arsehole, then there are no longer bad dreams in the dream world. You laugh at the pathetic shadows of your psyche and any intruding malevolences. They hold about as much authority and intimidation as our rainbow infused fagotronic enforcers (the police) do.

    I love dreaming and can’t even remember the last bad one. The only problem is I recoil at being forced to wake up and endure another day of this shitheap grind.

    Some say that’s depression. I say it’s thinking clearly.

  13. Excellent cunting BBTC,
    You should have told the ghost to drop you by Notting Hill Gate, we could have had a pint and told the Ghost to go fuck itself. 😁

  14. Excellent bit of cunting Bernie. Don’t know whether it’s C-19 anxiety related, but everybody I know is saying that that they’re having very unpleasant, broken, fragmented dreams just now.
    I dreamed last night that I was on a train that was hijacked by militant vegans. Where the fuck did that come from?
    Woke up anxious, went back to sleep, and dreamt that Julia Hartley-Brewer was sitting on my face. Well at least I know where THAT came from…

      • It could have been worse Ron. If the Flabbot had been sitting on your face, you might not have woken. Could have been a white out.

  15. I had a dream where I could have an opinion without being called a racist.
    I was then visited by the ghost of Christmas past, the snowflake ghost of Christmas present and the “peaceful” smelly ghost of Ramadan future.
    One day we will come out of this dreamlike state, and by fuck will there be a payback.

  16. Bertie, your nomination made me chuckle. Particularly,

    ‘Thinking that this all sounded a bit familiar, I asked the cunt if he’d ended up in the wrong play. “No, Blunt, you old cunt. I bring you a message. Come with me and I will take you forward to the Christmas of 2020.”’

    To me, dreams, good or bad, are very interesting.
    Sometimes it is only when I awake then fall back to sleep I dream.
    Some say dreams are the brain’s way of organising itself.
    This morning I dreamnt I was driving a cart along rails similar to those things at a funfair. As it was driving along I was waving to the people at the faie. Then it began to snow heavily and the people were covered in snow then froze stiff. Then I woke up.

    • That’s a strange dream to have. I think I know what’s causing your dreams Spoons. Eating too much liquorice before you go to bed makes you dream of All-Sorts!

  17. ” so I politely asked “who the fuck are you?” ”

    Absolutely loved that, Sir Bert. That did make me laugh. Comedy gold as they say.

    A bad dream I particularly remember from many (20+) years ago. I’d done something really bad (I could not recall what it was even at the time). Something that you’d rightfully feel very guilty about. Not murder or anything like that. Just something that you feel really bad about. Anyway, I woke up with that feeling of regret/shame/guilt and it gnawed away at me for a good couple of days. Then I suddenly had a flashback of some kind and realised the way I felt was because of a dream and that it wasn’t real. I hadn’t done anything awful after all. My relief was so overwhelming that I think I teared up a bit. True story. So yeah, bad dreams are a cunt.

  18. Morning IY. Is the housing market still completely locked down near you? You were looking to move weren’t you?
    It would seem to be one of the most difficult areas to restart in a safe and practical way.

    • Morning Sir Bert.
      Well, as the dust begins to settle a bit, it seems Texas was one of the few states that got things mostly right. Who knew? Consequently, things are opening up, masks are recommended, social distancing is supposed to apply, but is mostly ignored by many. So things are beginning to have the appearance of being normal/familiar.

      How that translates to the housing market I really don’t know. Our estate agent up in Dallas has been MIA for quite a while. Our local agent has been in touch multiple times over the last several weeks. Maybe that means something, maybe it doesn’t.

      What will likely happen is, me or Mrs Yank will land a new job in the Dallas/Fort Worth market. Then we’ll relocate to a rented house nearer to work. Sell our current house, then look to buy in the Dallas area. That’s still the plan. Not much movement on the job front to report. Yet. Things are picking up though over here.

      Cheers – IY.

  19. I’m sure I read that you won’t do anything in a dream that you couldn’t bring yourself to do when awake….if that is true then I really am a very naughty man capable of every crime starting at the most trivial (horsewhipping Anti-Hunt protesters) and working up to (and including) mass-murder and treason.

    I sometimes wake myself up I’m laughing so hard at something that I’ve doing in a dream.

    • Afternoon Fiddler, does Gemma Arterton feature in your debauched slumbers? Any news on the racing, you must be gagging to get off for a meet?

      • Gemma does feature with more regularity than she’d like,LL. She was up to some naughtiness with me and the tart from some toothpaste ad just the other night…the filthy mare.

        There’s talk of racing starting up again soon but with no crowds…I used to enjoy going for a day’s racing and then a few pints and a decent meal on the way home.

        How are things with you?

      • Workwise its pretty much back to normal Fiddler, like yourself I will be glad when the local opens and things get back to at least something resembling normality. The constant wallowing and obsessing over everything Covid-19 related is not healthy or productive and fucking boring.

  20. For me, a bad dream is a good one which turns bad – usually when I’m just about to get down to some serious sex and the dream changes to something totally different, or the bastard alarm clock goes off.

  21. I do like a wet dream which involves Jennifer Lawrence. But it does into a bit of a living nightmare at 3:30am in the morning when I wake up and have to clean myself and change the sheets if I can be arsed too,

  22. My current (good) dream would be winning the Texas lotto. I could use the odd $200M or so. Apart from moving to a lavish home and buying an Aston Martin, I’d be a bit stumped as to what to do next. I must admit though that I’d invest a little into getting back at those cunts who have wronged me over the years. My shit list is maintained on an ongoing basis and I would enjoy fucking up those cunts’ lives. Not saying that’s appropriate, mature or well adjusted, but it is honest. 🤬 ☠️

    • Evening IY, just the $200m is it? Funny lotto system the Americans use with options of taking a lump sum after tax or so many millions over a few decades which is not a bad idea actually. I see in some states its mandatory to reveal the winners which seems a bit shitty. If we see on the news a Englishman from Texas with said Aston Martin and a pair of gold plated Magnums, we’ll know who it is.

      • Evening LL. Yep, that would be me. I just checked and the Mega Millions lotto is up to $336M.

        I’d be creative though. Doing something blatantly illegal runs the risk of plod getting involved and I couldn’t spend my millions in a Yank jail. I’d start with petty and annoying and go from there. Buying the house next door to my victims and either being the cunt neighbour from hell or renting it out to awful, low life trailer park trash also has a certain appeal. Stinky food, feral kids, loud music, rotting trash in the back garden. Maybe add a little rat and roach infestation into the proceedings. Gosh….the fun I’d have. 🤣

      • Justice is a phone call and a quiet meeting away.
        It’s who you know that counts.

    • I hope you’ve knocked me off your shit list IY!
      I know we didn’t meet eye to eye at one time but we’ve buried the hatchet haven’t we? I woke up one morning and Mrs B took out a Texan Apache tomahawk from between my shoulders. I regard you as one of my best mates!

      • You only have seven months left anyway according to your dream Bertie, time to get a shit list of your own before you pop off.

        Ps, thanks for your pun book, I look forward to groaning Mrs L into bed.

      • 😀 I might have left it too late to draw up a bucket list! 😀

      • Oh we’re super cool, Sir Bert. We were being a couple of cunts trying to claim the moral high ground over an incident which was truly awful. Old news my friend.

        In fact, when plotting the down fall of those who have crossed the line, input from your good self and some of the other regulars would be most welcome. I think B&WC, Miserable and particularly the resident of Fiddler Towers would have plenty to say.

      • IY – Is your hit list made up exclusively of US citizens or does it extend to others in Blighty? 😀

      • Lots of Brits unfortunately, Bertie. Plenty of Yanks too, with at least one French cunt and an Italian.

        It all starts with at least a couple of teachers from my junior school. Though to be fair, time has probably taken care of those cunts already.

      • Evening IY, hope things are well stateside for you?
        Even though I moan on here about lefties, liars,
        Etc I dont really hold grudges , I havent got a ‘shit list’ as such, and cant speak for BWC but im betting hes similiar.
        Fiddler is another matter.

        Think Dick might hold a grudge against people who’ve done him wrong.
        But can hand on heart say I honestly cant think of anyone id like to get even with!!

      • And that’s why you’re a much nicer person than I am, MNC. Good for you, I say.

        Unfortunately, things stay with me and I don’t subscribe to the forgive and forget model. For me, forgiving is really just giving permission to do it again. There have been many people I’ve known who have shown a complete lack of decency, honesty, integrity, respect and consideration for others. And by others, I mean me.

        Genuine mistakes, misunderstandings, acting on false information…those things I can let go, but take note of (in case it’s repeated). But when something is done or said knowingly, with malice of forethought, then something needs to be done.

        I’ve tried giving the benefit of the doubt or giving the other party the opportunity to make amends of their own volition, but the outcome has always been the same. They take the piss and make it worse. That has unfortunately been my consistent experience in my life. Hence, grudges are held against the guilty parties. Not proud of it, but there it is.

      • Oh, and everything is OK with me stateside. Thanks for asking. I’m stuck in front of the computer learning about cloud bollocks. I hate it, but my industry is changing and this’ll help me get a job.

        Hope all is well with you. Cheers – IY.

      • True Miserable, on the flipside maybe Fiddler is on many a shit list starting with The Ramblers Association and Indian call centres flogging him superspeed broadband.

      • Indeed LL.

        Me thinks Mr Fiddler may be running out of places to hide the bodies. 😉

  23. I have shite dreams at night even when I can’t sleep.
    GP has just doubled my dose of Mirtazapine, so hopefully the “drowsiness” side-effects might help. My right ear is fucking about, and my Chalfonts are a veritable pain.
    Back to squirrel service tomorrow, more training. Thankfully I only need one ear for the headset.
    Lockdown can’t end soon enough, back to college to finish Inspection & Testing, then hopefully some sparks work.

  24. ‘They are not long, the days of wine and roses,
    Out of a misty dream
    Our path emerges for a while, then closes
    Within a dream.’

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