Going Up The Country

Last night, I dreamed I was on a company outing. The gang and I had to partake in rock climbing under the instructions of someone introduced to us as a ‘holistic mountaineer’… a fairly harmless but New Agey paragon of idiocy with a milky dumb face. We were supposed to perform something that was called ‘the Strawberry Manoeuvre’, which meant that we had to dangle upside down from an overhanging ledge dressed in dark brown monk’s robes, or cowl (I had to look up this word).

The rest of my company was fine with all this. Some were even admiring our guru of the Alps; others began to quickly put on the robes and climbing gear. I on the other hand was bewildered and quite outraged. ‘Look here,’ I said to one of my comrades, ‘you don’t think I am going to  godbuggerybumholecheesehump hang from a mountain impersonating a strawberry in a cowl goddamned!?’ But nobody listened to me and they flew up the mountain like a band of pirates in the rigging of an entered schooner. End of the dream.

Probably a bit of unsolved aggression if you ask me… I have quite a bit of that. It’s the price that comes with being such a friendly giant. And people can be such son of bitches of course... Anyway, not going into that for now, it is my pleasure to announce that I will be leaving you for a few weeks. I will carry on my thoughts from a soberly furnished hut in the middle of an endless sun-bleached wilderness where I will be surrounded by my friends the crickets, the bats and the peeping and whistling of friendly little birds. Later, when the enchanted song of the oriole will get on my nerves like mustard gas, I will return to civilisation and all things will start anew. Till then!