bitful

Readers with professional knowledge in the interpretation of dreams, please avert your gaze now. I do not want to know, really.

I dreamt that I was in an episode of Sex and the City. It was of course extremely vivid and life-like. I was not one of the existing characters, I was simply myself, but at the same time I was Carrie's best friend, glamouros bosom buddy and faithful confident.

Think a more handsome Stanford. Think Anthony bar the cattiness, and the campness, and the annoying voice. Think early-episodes Aidan Shaw (Carrie's architect boyfriend, not the gay porn star), only with Aiden Shaw's (the adult entertainer) cock size.

I looked like myself, having beaten both Colin Farrell (for cock size) and Rupert Everett (who appears to have a monopoly on gay men roles in cinema and TV) to the part.

Exciting dream. A bit less for Dr B., who hardly slept at all because of my moving about.

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