Dream Interpretation: New Service From Radio Free Porty

[Jackson Priest]

I don't know about you, but I'm often troubled by recurring dreams.

There's the one where I am half horse and half kangaroo, with a tin opener for a beak. I am heading for a giant tin of carnation milk, but I know that as soon as I get near it, the tin's great hairy hands will cup me and throw me high out of the bubble car which I have forgotten how to drive. Et cetera.

Then there's the one where I'm wearing Idi Amin's underpants, but you'll have to pm me to find out the rest of that one. On 2nd thoughts, don't.

But luckily for me, and for you too, Radio Free Porty has secured the services of Roger Twongle, world-famous dream interpreter, to, er, interpret dreams for us all.

All you have to do is tell Roger your dream, preferably on this thread or by pm if you must, and each week he will choose a particularly troubling dream, and read out the dream and his interpretation in his beautiful soothing Australian tones, thus casting out the badness from your life.

He's going to join this thread now, and introduce himself to you. I hope. Be nice to him please - he's a sensitive soul.

So get writing! Come on! There's airtime to fill!

JP.

[Roger Twongle]

G'day.

This guy Jackson Priest contacted me last night and asked me if I would help the people of Portobello by interpreting their dreams for them. And I said to him, how can I help them, when I cannot help myself? And I put the phone down, and retired to bed.

And I tried to sleep but after tossing and turning for a long time I woke up in a fevered state – hot and sweaty and my sheets were soaking – and I got up and walked – I walked over the wasteland and then climbed up through the scrub vegetation to where the land begins to form a number of hills, put there thousands of years ago by some freak storm or astral collision, and I climbed up to a vantage point high and out of sight of the human eye.

And I looked down at the twinkling lights of the city below and I imagined - I mean I didn't imagine it, I could see it In front of me as clear as a punch in the nose, that there were other people out there behind those windows, behind those lights, and they were no different to me, and that they couldn't sleep either, and that if they could then their sleep would be tempered by the most rotten of dreams – of tall towers trembling as the earth's fragile plates shift, an antelope running fast but not fast enough to escape the lion's jaw, a deep dark pool of despair and despondency and yet more despair. Humanity collapsing. And I wondered not for the first time about the meaning of life, why am I here, and I knew then that I had to try to help you.

And I clambered back down the rocky outcrop, bedraggled and cold, but calm, my soul chastened in knowing what I must do.

So tell me your dreams and I will try to soothe your souls.

Sweet dreams,

Roger Twongle

[Maria]

Roger, you are just the man some of us ladies have been waiting for.
Can you possibly help out three at the one time?

I'll let you start with a fretful ecm..

I had a very vivid dream last night.

Poppy and I were at the airport waiting for a flight out to some tropical island when I suddenly realise that I've only packed underwear, no other clothing, no toiletries, nothing but undies.

Poppy flies into a huge rage and orders me back to Porty to collect my things but when I get back here there is a terrible strom raging, waves crashing over the Prom, hurricane force winds and the like.
I never make it back to the airport and spend the rest of the dream fretting about what she will say/do to me.

I was quite shaken when I woke up.

Then next there's Sandra's very complex....

I had a very bizarre dream the other night - it was about two work colleagues getting intimate..

Finally, if you've got any strength left, there was my dream that involved a lot of us from the Forum out for a coffee, along with a gruff German arms dealer and Wayne Sleep. The number 36 also featured.

I'm confident you'll be able to peel back the layers and reveal the truth that lays within

[ecm]

Welcome Roger - you look scarily familiar to me.

Perhaps we've met before?

In one of my dreams maybe?

I was going to post regarding a specific dream later once I'd had my tea of ten rounds of toasted cheese but, what the heck.

Whilst most of my dreams revolve around tall trees, long trains and huge industrial chimneys the like of which Fred Dibnah would happily dangle from, there is one that recurs and haunts and taunts.

In this dream I am the magnificent Lipizzaner, Boris the White Horse from the TV series of the same name and I'm galloping and galloping as fast as I possibly can to make it to my local before last orders and all sorts of obstacles present themselves which hinder my progress.

A bunch of neds on bikes and skateboards get in my way, then I slip about on the cobbled streets nearly losing my balance. Then I remember that I have to get a video back to Blockbuster immediately or face a fine.
And so it goes until I realise I'm never going to make it.
It may sound funny but it's very distressing.

I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this.

ecm

[Pal of Porty]

Welcome Mr Twongle. I am already looking forward to your dream interpretations although after your introductory post, it sounds like you also need some help with your dreams!

[ali]

And I tried to sleep but after tossing and turning for a long time I woke up in a fevered state – hot and sweaty and my sheets were soaking – and I got up and walked – I walked over the wasteland and then climbed up through the scrub vegetation to where the land begins to form a number of hills, put there thousands of years ago by some freak storm or astral collision, and I climbed up to a vantage point high and out of sight of the human eye.

And I looked down at the twinkling lights of the city below and I imagined - I mean I didn't imagine it, I could see it In front of me as clear as a punch in the nose, that there were other people out there behind those windows, behind those lights, and they were no different to me, and that they couldn't sleep either, and that if they could then their sleep would be tempered by the most rotten of dreams – of tall towers trembling as the earth's fragile plates shift, an antelope running fast but not fast enough to escape the lion's jaw, a deep dark pool of despair and despondency and yet more despair. Humanity collapsing. And I wondered not for the first time about the meaning of life, why am I here, and I knew then that I had to try to help you.

And I clambered back down the rocky outcrop, bedraggled and cold, but calm, my soul chastened in knowing what I must do.

Oh dear Roger - three paragraphs in a row starting with "and".
You won't last long on here if the punctuation police examine the evidence. You'll be found guilty and condemned.

[ecm]

Roger, you are just the man some of us ladies have been waiting for.
Can you possibly help out three at the one time?

[Dadaist]

G'dae Rodge and dead set welcome to the roster me old bonzer. Your mate Jacko was round at mine the other night - me and him had a couple of tinnies, he might have mentioned it to you.

I'll certainly be having a Captain Cook on me old doorstep for your audio offerings. It's great do have some fair dinkum legal audio here - I tried to tell the MCPS bloke about the old tapes my Aunt Emma Chisett had recorded but as soon as I said "I wanna broadcast some music by Emma Chisett" he said "it's 1600 strine mite".

Just about fell off the dunny. Anyway, looking forward to hearing your upmarket cricket chat mate, we're not posh round here like you are but we don't mind - not like you're a Kiwi or anything bad. Come over anytime for a nice cold one, or just drop the tapes off if you're passing in the ute. ta ta.

[Jackson Priest]

Ali wrote

Oh dear Roger - three paragraphs in a row starting with "and".

Ali! I asked you to be nice to him!

Oh, I do hope you've not upset him. He's more sensitive than an mcps-prs alliance employee, you know.

I do hope he comes back.

Roger - are you there? Roger?

[Dadaist]

Ali stop being a meanie. By pointing out what the Spelling Stasi would have pointed out before the literacy wall came down and we re-unified good and bad use of English, you objectively become as dictatorial as they were before the counter gramm-o-lution.

[Porty]

I don't know about you, but I'm often troubled by recurring dreams.

When I was younger, not had this one for years, I used to dream that there was an army of sunflowers marching on the bit of land beyond the end of the garden. Big chief sunflwer would raise its head, what seemed miles above the other flowers and smile in our bedroom window. It wasn't scary, it was comforting. The best bit was I could force myself to have the dream, i could make the dream happen.

I think most people must have recurring dreams.

On tuesday night I had a vivid dream and it took place between 11:30pm and 12: 15am. I was part of a hippy procession circa 1968, myself and a few other I knew were at the back of the procession. Everyone was singing a Counting Crows song (the song escapes me now but it may have been Omaha). Anyway, the cops decided to have a word with us, as to them we were singing "too triumphantly". I was certain that when they approached us and saw that we were middle-aged, they would relax, they did not. They began arresting us one by one........ and i woke up.

Roger, WTF?

Is Roger a communal POL dream? Have things got that bad?

(Just realised I have quite a few marching dreams )

[Sandra]

Wait till you hear bearcub's recent dreams.

[Epykat]

Welcome Mr Twongle! It's such a relief knowing that there's somebody on this forum who can be sensitive, kind, understanding and most of all work out what goes on in a woman's head . Truly a wonderful being. Just as soon as I have a dream I'll let you know.

[Dadaist]

That Martin Luther King keeps going on about some recurring dream he has. I wish he'd shut up.

[ali]

Ali stop being a meanie. By pointing out what the Spelling Stasi would have pointed out before the literacy wall came down and we re-unified good and bad use of English, you objectively become as dictatorial as they were before the counter gramm-o-lution.

Sorry - I'd forgotten that it isn't politically correct in the world of POL to criticise the poor wee deluded Aussie in case we hurt his his feelings. Aaaaaaww - the poor wee lamb!!! How is he ever going to learn??

Maybe it would be kinder to refer him for treatment for his delusions - interpreting dreams. Aye, right!!!!
Pshaw!!!!
Haaaarumph!!!!
Ali the sKeptic

[ali]

Welcome Mr Twongle! It's such a relief knowing that there's somebody on this forum who can be sensitive, kind, understanding and most of all work out what goes on in a woman's head . Truly a wonderful being. Just as soon as I have a dream I'll let you know.

What???!!!

Well, I've been here. And Dada. And what about Porty? You want sensitivity, you got it.
Kindness?? There's wangi, PoP and bearcub. You want understanding? Try Mr Catz.

Work out what's going on in a woman's head - Nope, sorry. You've gone too far. There's no one round here who can help you.

[Dadaist]

Ali the Twongle hater. That not nice.

This guy offers us free cricket dream analysis and you get aggro.

How can you be such a sceptic? This bloke is quite obviously a visionary and whatever criticism you offer, I'm sure he sees through it. With his third eye.

[ali]

Ali the Twongle hater. That not nice.

This guy offers us free cricket dream analysis and you get aggro.

How can you be such a sceptic? This bloke is quite obviously a visionary and whatever criticism you offer, I'm sure he sees through it. With his third eye.

Visionary?? Third eye?? I'm just worried because you sound in danger of turning Roger in to a bit of a cult.

[Maria]

Wait till you hear bearcub's recent dreams.

C'mon Bearcub, spill 'em.

[ecm]

Wait till you hear bearcub's recent dreams.

C'mon Bearcub, spill 'em.

I'd guess they might involve crashing aeroplanes, invisible monsters, polar bears etc etc.

[Porty]

Wait till you hear bearcub's recent dreams.

C'mon Bearcub, spill 'em.

I'd guess they might involve crashing aeroplanes, invisible monsters, polar bears etc etc.

I'd guess, since he has not long been married, that his dreams are mostly about oor' San.

[Epykat]

Welcome Mr Twongle! It's such a relief knowing that there's somebody on this forum who can be sensitive, kind, understanding and most of all work out what goes on in a woman's head . Truly a wonderful being. Just as soon as I have a dream I'll let you know.

What???!!!

Well, I've been here. And Dada. And what about Porty?.

As I was saying.........

[ecm]

Maybe it would be kinder to refer him for treatment for his delusions

Welcome Mr Twongle! It's such a relief knowing that there's somebody on this forum who can be sensitive, kind, understanding and most of all work out what goes on in a woman's head . Truly a wonderful being. Just as soon as I have a dream I'll let you know.

What???!!!

Well, I've been here.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha etc and you dare to suggest that dear Roger is delusional?

[bearcub]

Wait till you hear bearcub's recent dreams.

C'mon Bearcub, spill 'em.

This is a family show!

[Roger Twongle]

Strewth.

This morning, unable to sleep, I arose and I walked through the graveyard and then into the woods, the frost-stiffened ground crunching beneath my feet. And I saw a remarkable thing. A mother badger, with a family of 7 new-borns. Six of them were nuzzling into her milk-bloated underbelly, but the 7th, the runt of the litter, was lying next to them, quite still, its tongue lolling out of its little mouth. I picked it up, and put it close to one of its mother's teats, hoping that some kind of primitive survival instinct would kick in, and it would begin to partake of the life-giving milk so noisily enjoyed by its kin. But nothing happened, and after a few minutes I stood up, having given up. A solitary tear made its way slowly down my cheek, and froze in the morning air. I brushed it away, saw it smash into 5 tiny pieces when it hit the ground, and I walked away, devastated at my inability to save the little bludger.

But as I walked away, I heard a small guzzling noise. And I turned round to see that those 5 pieces of icy tear had melted and formed the most minute of rivers, and flowed towards the dying badger's tongue. The water revived the little mite, and it slowly but surely raised its head towards its mother's belly and began to drink.

I sat and watched for an hour and eventually, as the light came up they settled and fell to sleep, the young family together with its mother, mysterious and beautiful in the verdant light.

Ali, don't you see that the world may be full of horror, but if you open your eyes there is staggering beauty to behold at every turn. The mask of cynicism you wear protects you, but you must cast it off if you are to achieve inner peace. I sense that you are troubled and confused, and I will try to help you.

Kind people of Portobello, thank you for your welcome and for sharing with me your dreams. Keep 'em coming. I will do what I can to guide you through the mire.

Sweet dreams,

Roger Twongle

PS. Ali, the repetitive use of the word ‘And' was a device employed to illustrate the incremental nature of the forces which persuaded me to agree with Jackson Priest's request for me to help the people of Portobello. I sense that you are an educated man – I feel you possibly studied at one of the Northern universities - and I am sure that you would have realised this had you not been blinded by fear and self-doubt.

PPS. Bearcub, I need details on your dream. It sounds interesting. Hurry up and tell me.

[ali]

Strewth.

Strewth, right enough mate. Where've you been? Had a couple of hectic days at work?

Ali, don't you see that the world may be full of horror, but if you open your eyes there is staggering beauty to behold at every turn. The mask of cynicism you wear protects you, but you must cast it off if you are to achieve inner peace. I sense that you are troubled and confused, and I will try to help you.

My mask of cynicism is actually a little nerve at the corner of my right eye which twitches when I sense the presence of charlatans, quacks and fakirs - and its flickering right now like the left turn indicator on a 1959 Ford Prefect- our older readers will know what I mean.

PS. I sense that you are an educated man – I feel you possibly studied at one of the Northern universities - and I am sure that you would have realised this had you not been blinded by fear and self-doubt.

Your use of the word "Northern" to describe a university in West Yorkshire betrays a certain anglocentric bias. I don't think you're an Aussie - you're English!!!!

[Roger Twongle]

Dear Ali,

I was born in Sydney, and left there on a boat at the age of eight, bound for the city of London, England, clutching in my hand a small case containing a reel of super8 film of The Sullivans which my mother had filmed from the tv (she said it would remind me of home) and a battered autographed photograph of Rodney Marsh.

I wept for the entire journey, and will never forget the blinding sun blurring through my tears as I left the harbour, until all I could see was the brightest white, engulfing me like a magnesium flame.

I have never returned, but in weaker moments take the film from my handkerchief under the bed, set up the projector, and watch the flickering images against the kitchen wall.

My mother was right - it does remind me of home.

Afterwards, as the film comes to an end and slips off the reel, I sit in the darkness, tasting the salty waters from my streaming eyes, and watch the dust playing like a thousand tiny sandstorms in the beam of bright light - and I am also reminded of the time when I left Australia, blinded by the sun and my own tears, knowing deep down that I would never return.

I am your brother, Ali. Please do not condemn me. I am your brother and I love you like a brother, for I sense a fire within you, raging and consuming everything in its path. But you must learn to control that fire, for it may in turn consume you.

Sweet dreams,

Roger Twongle

[ali]

Dear Ali,

I was born in Sydney, and left there on a boat at the age of eight, bound for the city of London, England, clutching in my hand a small case containing a reel of super8 film of The Sullivans which my mother had filmed from the tv (she said it would remind me of home) and a battered autographed photograph of Rodney Marsh.

I wept for the entire journey, and will never forget the blinding sun blurring through my tears as I left the harbour, until all I could see was the brightest white, engulfing me like a magnesium flame.

I have never returned, but in weaker moments take the film from my handkerchief under the bed, set up the projector, and watch the flickering images against the kitchen wall.

My mother was right - it does remind me of home.

Afterwards, as the film comes to an end and slips off the reel, I sit in the darkness, tasting the salty waters from my streaming eyes, and watch the dust playing like a thousand tiny sandstorms in the beam of bright light - and I am also reminded of the time when I left Australia, blinded by the sun and my own tears, knowing deep down that I would never return.

I am your brother, Ali. Please do not condemn me. I am your brother and I love you like a brother, for I sense a fire within you, raging and consuming everything in its path. But you must learn to control that fire, for it may in turn consume you.

Sweet dreams,

Roger Twongle

Twongle Schmongle!!!!!!

Your manipulative schmaltzy yarns are an indication that you've mastered your dark arts well and these stories are not just something you could think up, say, wheeling the baby in the pushchair between Boots and Fords the Bakers on a wet saturday morning.

Do you have a store of them ready to use, with a little tweaking, for all those occasions when you are about to be unfrocked and exposed, as it were???


Anyway, how much longer are your audience of poor, naive, would-be dupes (and it gives me no pleasure you understand, but I have to point it out) - mostly women- going to have to wait before their dreams are "interpreted" then?

[bearcub]

.....PPS. Bearcub, I need details on your dream. It sounds interesting. Hurry up and tell me.

Ok, Mr Twongle, just for you (and anyone else needing a laugh on this dreich night)

Was dreaming that I was in group of people who'd won something (can't remember what!), but as we were walking along a group of people that we'd beaten kept on making snide remarks, and being abusive about others in my group, so I lost it and went up to confront them. Was right in their face asking them to "come ahead " when one of them got really close to my face..........................................................






















...........then I woke up to a scream as I sunk my teeth into Sandra's elbow which had strayed near my face.

[ecm]

...........then I woke up to a scream as I sunk my teeth into Sandra's elbow which had strayed near my face.

Shouldn't laugh really, poor Sandra.

[foxy]

...........then I woke up to a scream as I sunk my teeth into Sandra's elbow which had strayed near my face.

Shouldn't laugh really, poor Sandra.

Well it was her funny bone

[ecm]

...........then I woke up to a scream as I sunk my teeth into Sandra's elbow which had strayed near my face.

Shouldn't laugh really, poor Sandra.

Well it was her funny bone

Ba boom tisch!!

[bellybabe]

It's such a relief knowing that there's somebody on this forum who can be sensitive, kind, understanding and most of all work out what goes on in a woman's head

Work out what's going on in a woman's head - Nope, sorry. You've gone too far. There's no one round here who can help you.

Look no further - I'm your woman! I've been here a while though - shame you hadn't noticed...

[Jackson Priest]

Heard from Roger Twongle last night. He phoned me from Serbia! Was muttering something about a horse. All sounded a bit odd.

Dadaist, he said he would get something to you today. I said, "But you don't know where he lives." He said, "Don't worry. I'll find him alright."

I do hope this doesn't backfire - it was supposed to make me look good.

I think I'll go back and actually check up on the references he gave me.

JP.

[Epykat]

Don't say he's disappeared just when I had a strange one for him

Me n Scoop sitting at a desk (possibly a school desk but outside, opposite Brighton Park - possibly Marya's garden?). Captain Hook is shouting at us
to tell him immediately the exact angle of the large oak tree to the small, fir tree directly to the left of it. I'm trying desperately to put my hand up to answer him but I can't because the arm's gone dead and it won't move, and he's getting really angry and he's going to throw me to the crocodile. When I woke up I was lying on my arm and it had gone to sleep