C4C/apto/Countdown Dreams

[Christy Cooper]

I had a dream that several comedians from 8/10 Cats Does Countdown died (in fact, in my dream, Rob Beckett died from suicide…. wonder what causes these dreams to occur) so Jimmy was calling every comedian he could think of to cover for them eerily, that was a dream I had just a few days before the news about Sean Lock broke last year.

I also had a dream that Susie Dent died…. again, no idea how death seems to crop in my dreams a fair bit but it does.

And I also had a dream that Colin started talking like a stereotypical ‘roadman’- ‘yo, welcome to Countdown, innit badman- propah peng ting, bruv!’- that one wasn’t quite as eerie.

I

[George Armstrong]

Dreamt last night that it was CO:Rugby. The R1 draw has been noted on the sign ups sheet and all MSR had to do was read them out and input them. The first draw was myself, Maus, and Peter Clarke, too an "ooh" from everyone else. Table 2 drew Mike Lee, Fiona and Prune. I missed Table 3 because of Aptochat going down but it was a meaty table from what I heard. MSR found inputting the draw tricky, as he'd taken a bowl of mashed potatoes and covered his hands, and henceforth his laptop with them...

[Ben Wilson]

Last night in a semi-feverish dream, me and Dinos time travelled back to 2018 and searched around a shopping mall to try to find someone in the UK Labour Party to contact, only to realise that we'd been unknowingly staring directly at Jeremy Corbyn for over 20 minutes. Shortly afterwards, Dinos departed and I was left scouring a map of the UK for a petrol station with platinum service (in my dream, service comes in five levels from worst to best- red, green, silver, gold & platinum), eventually finding one in North Lincolnshire. However, I then opt for a red service station in Nottinghamshire instead (that was actually further away from where I live) only to end up at a platinum service one anyway and have to steer around about a dozen Toyota Hiluxes to leave. I then woke up.

[Mark Deeks]

Many if not most of my dreams involve either snooker or Matt Morrison. This one went for both.

-

I was a member of a professional basketball team, the Milton Keynes Miltons, and our next match took place inside a scout hut just off the A507 near the Ampthill turn-off with remarkably low ceilings. The backboard kept falling down and we had to stop play to straighten it all back up, with me being all judgemental and saying things like "this simply won't do" and "we will need to get this fixed up properly in the future". (This need to commentate on everything will become relevant during the C4C-related part of the dream further on.)

My role on this team varied from being a player who can't actually play and who somehow had not been found out yet, to being a sort of raconteur who engaged with members of the crowd and got to know them on some kind of personal level. In this instance, there was only one person in the crowd, so it didn't take long. His name was Gary, and although he looked exactly like the late actor Gary Olsen (who played Ben in 90s sitcom 2.4 Children), he was at pains to point out that he wasn't the late actor Gary Olsen.

After a brief chat with Gary in which we both listed things we were unhappy with about the other while smiling broadly in an incredibly English display of passive-aggressiveness, it was time for the snooker portion of the day. At this point, the Miltons' line-up of former NBA players and fat bus drivers (I thought it best not to elaborate on that part in this post) departed, to be replaced by Matt Morrison and Heather Badcock. Concurrent with this, a giant 24 foot by 10 foot snooker table appeared in the hut (Gary had to move closer to the wall to fit it in), the scout hut turned into a pub with mock Tudor beams, the ceiling somehow got even lower, and the place became filled with a lot more passive-aggressive belligerents. There was lots of smiling and lots of underhand comments in all directions. Lovely stuff.

We were playing a variety of snooker in which one team had seven light blues to pot, and the other team had about 20 of every other colour imaginable. Heather went first, and she took her first shot on the inexplicably-already-scattered table by making a delicate and rather impressive cut on a blue into the corner. Thereafter, she lost her patience and just started twatting everything. After a few rather primal wallops of any blue she could find, her two shots were up, or so I thought - Heather continued trying to play shots, but I insisted we stop and check the instant replay. I was being fair, you see. Which, again, was a key plot point to lay the foundations of the climactic final scene in this truly captivating and totally not boring movie of a dream.

The instant replay revealed that I was wrong; Heather had fluked a blue in the extremely-far-away far corner pocket on her second shot, and thus was in compliance with the rules of this weird-ass sport it seems we were inventing on the fly. Nevertheless, this did not stop the belligerents from whispering and belligerating, and there was tension in the air. The integrity of our basketbooker league was under threat. And it was at this point that I began to notice how much the opposition was cheating. With seemingly every shot, one of their 35-or-so team members was doing something underhanded; by the end, it got to the point where the table had no cushions on it whatsoever (a call-back, it appears, to this), and as long as they could just knock a ball off the edge of the table, they would call it a pot. And that really wouldn't do.

Now, in my dreams, people are usually mad at me. For hours and hours and hours, they'll be like "oh MARK! " in that exasperated way I hear on loop in my paranoid subconscious awake mind and which is definitely not my brain struggling to process childhood traumas or anything. I am a disturbed sleeper because for the most part, my sleep brain is having a go at itself. Not this time, though. In this one, it plays the hero. After all this cheating, I take a stand. I grab the microphone, grab the focus on the room, and go on a speech. It is warmly delivered, but emphatic in its language. It is confrontational without being bellicose. It informs Gary and all his cheaty mates that we know what they've being doing, and we're just going to end it there for tonight, but we're taking the victory, and that's how it's going to be. (The phrase "I'm not asking, buddy, I'm telling" was used at one point. What a hero.)

The 35-or-so cheating Ampthillians were obviously not delighted about this jumped-up fuck from the Keynes coming in, showing off and telling them what's up, so while my team congratulated me and were in awe of my bravado and articulation (being praised for never saying "erm" at any point in my off-the-cuff spiel), they went and got the manager, an Italian man who looked exactly like the non-Italian poker player Sammy Farha. Sammy put his arm around me and said through his big Italian smile, "look, you can have the victory, but get the fuck out of my pub". I got the fuck out of his pub, but on my terms; leaving Matt and Heather in there like the consummate teammate that I am, I watched on through various windows as a riot erupted in the venue, as the cheating team tore the place apart, looking for me, all the while shouting more scathing commentary ("you have only yourselves to blame, for you were not playing in the right spirit!") through the bizarrely open windows.

Heather then pulled out a gun and shot Gary.

[Gavin Chipper]

The last bit is basically what happened at the Fox and Hounds at this year's COLIN.

[Fiona T]

The last bit is basically what happened at the Fox and Hounds at this year's COLIN.

My thoughts exactly. Mark somehow missed all the action

[Mark Deeks]

Missed the action? That simply won't do.

[Callum Todd]

Excellent. For me the most bizarre part of that dream is the dimensions of the snooker table. The angles would be completely different to a normal size table. That won't do.

[George Armstrong]

Was on Aptochat when Tom Cappleman comes online, having enjoyed the latest episode of a new TV Show "Gregg's Obese Services". The entire premise of the show seemed to be something to do with overweight waiters. There was one bit in particular with Tom found hilarious, so I went to find the clip on YouTube. Found a short clip from the show, in which Gregg walks out of a caravan housing the contestants. Outside is a tent which was designed by 3 PSG footballers including Kylian Mbappe, as indicated by a tag on the tent. Gregg remarks, "No matter what you think of these Chelsea boys, you've all walked past this before and thought "mmm BAP eh"".

[Ben Wilson]

In the latest one I end up somewhere in Leeds, trying to find a hotel for the night only to find myself caught outside what I assume is a kitchen or a generator room in the rain, which is padlocked. A bunch of apterites including George Armstrong and Fiona T arrive, break into the place with a pair of huge bolt cutters, and I discover its the old Leeds studio, complete with countdown set. A small game is then played, and I discover its actually a knock out tournament played with the actual set, and we need someone to stand guard in case Damian appears. I can't remember the draw, only that I'm too late to be in it, I'm sitting next to Jono (who is in the draw but thinking of dropping out) and I got AEROWOOD in a round. I then wake up.

[JackHurst]

we need someone to stand guard in case Damian appears

This is the bit that amuses me the most. I'm sure (in your dream world) if he did catch you, his reaction would be to ask to join.

[Mark Deeks]

In an impulsive decision which ended up taking consiiiiiiiiderably longer than I expected, I decided to put together a matrix that counted how many times Apterous/Countdowners have been specifically named as being in dreams. METHODOLOGY: Countdown and Catsdown hosts included because eh why not. The person having the dream is not counted, which particularly penalises Ben Wilson in particular, as he would be on about 6,000 points. Only counts when expressly named.

890 total dream citations, and here are the results!

--

Dreamt about 60 times and by far and away the most popular unconscious Countdowner

Zarte Siempre



Dreamt about 40 times

Graeme Cole, Jen Steadman



Dreamt about 37 times

Mark Deeks



Dreamt about 32 times

Andy Platt



Dreamt about 30 times, most of which have come in the last three pages of the thread, many of which were by Ashton Hancock

James Robinson



Dreamt about 26 times

Jon O'Neill



Dreamt about 24 times

Callum Todd



Dreamt about 23 times and not the most frequently dreamed-about C4Cer despite my best efforts

Matt Morrison



Dreamt about 20 times

Dylan Taylor, and his brother Ryan Taylor



Dreamt about 19 times despite my best efforts

Michelle Nevitt



Dreamt about 18 times

Gevin Chapwell, Thomas Carey



Dreamt about 17 times, albeit not often together

Charlie Reams, Jon Corby



Dreamt about 16 times including one time when he was explicitly described as "phenomenally pissed off"

Matt Bayfield



Dreamt about 15 times, usually always actually playing Countdown

Dan McColm, Jack Worsley



Dreamt about 13 times, these three greats of the game

Innis Carson, Kirk Bevins, Matty Artell



Dreamt about 12 times, quite a bit more than her husband

Tracey Mills



Dreamt about 11 times, quite a bit less than her basically-husband

Heather Badcock



Also dreamt about 11 times and the most popular of all the actual show's hosts

Susie Dent



Dreamt about 10 times

Dinos Sfyris



Dreamt about 9 times and less than Dinos, as we would all naturally expect

Rachel Riley



Dreamt about 8 times

Adam Gillard, Ben Wilson, Callum Pickering (almost all of which were by James Laverty), Conor Travers, Mike Brown


Dreamt about 7 times

Bradley Horrocks (almost all of which were by Elliot Mellor), Jim Bentley, Lauren Hamer, Nick Hewer


Dreamt about 6 times

Eddy Byrne, Fiona Titcombe, Giles Hutchings, Rhys Benjamin, Richard Priest, Rob Foster


Dreamt about 5 times

Damian Eadie, Jack Hurst, Jeff Clayton, Tom Cappleman


Dreamt about 4 times

George Pryn, Heather Styles, Ian Volante, Kai Laddiman, Richard Whiteley, Stewart Gordon, Tim Down


Dreamt about 3 times

"Callum" (not elaborated upon, which is a shame, as it could have made a difference to the top of the standings), Adam Dexter, Aidan Linge, George Armstrong, James Laverty, Joseph Krol, Paul Erdunast, Paul Howe, Paul Worsley, Philip Aston, Richard Brittain, Zubair Patel


Dreamt about 2 times

"George" (not specified), Adam Curran, Alan Young, Eddie McCullaugh, Fred Whibley, Gary Male, Ian Birdman, James Nguyen, Johnny Canuck, Josh Hurst, Lee Fisher, Mark Davies, Mark Mills, Mark Murray, Michael Wallace, Ned Pendleton (with the two coming a decade apart), Paul Anderson, Paul James, Robin McKay, Sophie Krol, Tony Atkins



Dreamt about 1 time

"Tom C" (unspecified), , Alec Rivers, Andrew Hulme, Andy SC, Angus Burns, Anthony Endsor, Bob de Caux's hair, Brett Smitheram, Carl Williams, CF, Chris Davies, Chris Hare, Chris Marshall, CJ De Mooi, Craig Beevers, Dave Preece, David B Barnard, David O'Donnell, "Oli" (not specified), David Stainer, Dougie Mackay, Eoin Jackson, Eoin Monaghan, "FAT Jon Corby", Gemma Church, Glen Webb, Gyles Brandreth, Hazel Drury, Hywel Morgan, James Rowan, Jamie McNeill, "someone like Paul Worsley but not quite Paul Worsley", Jason Larsen, Jeff Stelling, Jimmy Carr, Jimmy Gough, Joe Bartram, "Adam Gillard doing an impression of Scott Gillies", Jon Stitcher, Jonathan Rawlinson, Jonathan Wynn, Jordan Barker, Joyce Phillips, Julian Fell, Julie Russell, Kerry Alcock, Luke Johnson-Davies, Mark Hartnett, "Andrew Something or Other", Mark Nyman, Mark Tournoff, Martin Bishop, "May have been Hugh Binnie", Matt Croy, Matthew Tassier, Mike Lee, Milo McKenzie, Moose, MSR, Neil Zussman, Oli Moore, Oliver Garner, Paul Gallen, Paul Sinha, Peter Clarke, Phil Collinge, Phil Reynolds, Ray Wilding, Rob Beckett, Ru Maxwell, Sam Goodyear, Sean Lock, Spike, Stephen Read, Stewart Holden, Sue Sanders, "The dismembered head and shoulders of Jeff Clayton", Tom Chafer-Cook, Tricia Pay, Usman Mirza, "A Robin McKay-Alan Young hybrid laughing at my small willy".

[Mark Deeks]

I also enjoyed on this journey the ways people were dreamt about. That is to say, some people were dreamt about in a Countdown context and some were not, but also, how people's depictions in the dreams of community members en masse trended in ways that could not be random and speaks to their reputation in the group. A lot of "Jack Worsley had just made the final of the Champion of Champions", "Mark Deeks was unnecessarily aggressively bollocking a ferret", etc. These are our legacies.

[Ben Wilson]

That reminds me of one I had a few days ago. In the dream, I went to a scrabble tournament, but before I could sign up, I had to complete an arcade game where you control Mr Burns from the Simpsons stealing artefacts from ancient tombs. In a twist, this bit was physical- as in the arcade contained a string of actual (well, replica) tombs that opened and yielded axrual treasure that was then digitised and placed onto Mr Burns's on-screen character. The final level was a streets of rage type affair where I (well, Burns) embarrassingly went down to the second guy I came across, which was still good enough for 3rd place on the leaderboard. I then spent ages trying to get the leaderboard to accept 'NOB' as my name, having accidentally typed an O instead of an E, before giving up, entering 'NEB' and trying to find my first opponent for the scrabble. Other than seeing MSR and Fiona playing each other, nothing else of note happens before I wake up.

[Ben Wilson]

Also I don't think you mentioned the countdowner whose penis fell off in my dream that one time (well, you have, he is on the list somewhere, but I don't recall telling you who it was).

[Mark Deeks]

Whoever it is gets 45 bonus points. Could decide the title.

[Fiona T]

Well add one to Stephen Read and Tom Carey -

We were doing Edgbaston parkrun before co:Brum. I'd done it before and remembered the route being fast and flat, so I was surprised as we set off to find it was more like an obstacle course with massive hills. I figured it was too hard, so started to walk back to the hotel, but after about five minutes I got worried that Stephen and Tom would be waiting for me to finish at the end after I'd already left, so I returned and started the parkrun. The first obstacle I got to was a bridge - it was very steep and very high with lots of steps, or there was a narrow walkway that was a lot flatter and shorter. I chose the walkway, and was surprised how narrow it was - I was struggling to squeeze through. I was just thinking that it was a good job I wasn't any fatter or I'd be stuck, when my progress was blocked by a (fatter) person who was stuck. I resigned myself to having to go up the long steep steps and headed back, but there was another stuck person. I considered climbing over the railings and jumping off but it was very high and I was too scared. Eventually after some hours the (fatter) person was released and I could continue. On the second lap I went over the bridge instead and the stairs went on for ages. I finished the parkrun in just over 5 hours and missed the co:event. Tom and Stephen hadn't waited for me. Gits.

[Gavin Chipper]

I would have waited, Fiona.

That's great work, Mark by the way. I might start putting more of my dreams on here, but quite often even though they seem quite good at the time, they'd be quite incoherent and probably far less interesting written down.

[Mark Deeks]

With no obvious connection to the plot of the rest of the night's dream - which broadly consisted of Danny John-Jules driving a commercial airliner down the A421 towards Bedford at about warp nine and wondering why the thing wouldn't lift off the ground - my sleep brain did a jump cut to a large empty room, in which me (who was also Hercule Poirot) and Heather Badcock were seated on wonky stools facing each other. The mystery we/I was trying to solve was, what happened to Kerry Alcock? Heather then pulled off her own head to reveal Kerry underneath, and proudly exclaimed "as I've always said, Alcock is Badcock." We high-fived.

[Mark Deeks]

Myself and Lauren Hamer opened a car wash just outside Derby, one we jointly operated while dressed in differently inappropriate ways - her, with a denim skirt jacked up to the armpits in that way usually seen in 95 year old men, and me in a scuba suit with a purple felt hat. Lauren was clearly the senior of the two of us, taking charge of orders and doing the customer patter, while I kept forgetting what to say and falling asleep wearing an oxygen mask. After an incident in which I told a man driving a chipboard-veneered mobile pub that it would take four hours to patch the dinner plate-sized hole in his rear wing - a job she completed in seconds while simultaneously also comping Jodie Marsh with a free hot wax "for her continuing loyalty" - Lauren eventually got sick of my shit and dispatched me to field at long leg for the England T20 team, as Monty Panesar kept missing the wicket. I was bad at this, too, so made my excuses and went to a vintage railway to provide cover for the overworked staff there, only for them to be mad at me for being late. One of the railway staff was a beleaguered and moustachioed Matt Morrison.

[Ben Wilson]

Being really unwell usually lends itself to unusual dreams, and tonight was no exception. In tonight's dream, I'm hosting Countdown in Leamington Spa for some reason, adjudicating a game where there's a query over the validity of a word. It's unknown where the game's host (and other player) went. On my way back to my front desk, I'm bombarded with finished scoresheets to enter onto the system, only to discover that the system being used is some sort of mixing desk set up by Nathan Pace. It's sophisticated enough to impress Graeme, but I have no idea how to operate it, so I go looking for Nathan, only to run into the husbands of the astronauts of a Moon mission practising for zero gravity, and the film's producer yelling at the writers to make the sequel more exciting.

In the previous dream, I was hitchhiking across the UK adjudicating Scrabble moves (including one played by Tuvok from Star Trek) so I'm not sure if it was much of an improvement.

Edit: also, in the previous dream, Mr Burns got it again when the bullies from the Simpsons rerouted Springfield's sewage system to drain directly into his face.

[Marc Meakin]

Being really unwell usually lends itself to unusual dreams, and tonight was no exception. In tonight's dream, I'm hosting Countdown in Leamington Spa for some reason, adjudicating a game where there's a query over the validity of a word. It's unknown where the game's host (and other player) went. On my way back to my front desk, I'm bombarded with finished scoresheets to enter onto the system, only to discover that the system being used is some sort of mixing desk set up by Nathan Pace. It's sophisticated enough to impress Graeme, but I have no idea how to operate it, so I go looking for Nathan, only to run into the husbands of the astronauts of a Moon mission practising for zero gravity, and the film's producer yelling at the writers to make the sequel more exciting.

In the previous dream, I was hitchhiking across the UK adjudicating Scrabble moves (including one played by Tuvok from Star Trek) so I'm not sure if it was much of an improvement.

Edit: also, in the previous dream, Mr Burns got it again when the bullies from the Simpsons rerouted Springfield's sewage system to drain directly into his face.

Get well soon mate

[Ben Wilson]

Cheers Marc

[Elliott Mellor]

I love the rare occasions when my subconscious decides to give me something worthwhile to contribute here.

Last night's setting is a little bit unclear, but the broad plot is that I'm playing Jack Worsley in a best of 5 set match in the final of some elite tennis tournament (that might have only involved apterites, because I'm fairly sure it was mentioned that Jack was the multiple time defending champion, and had recently suffered disappointment in the apterous masters to Zohaib). I was REALLY in the zone, and when I took the first game after saving a break point I let out an almighty shout of "COME ON!!" to the rather large crowd that were watching this exciting spectacle. At some point in the first game I think there was also a case where my serve (which Jack failed to return) was clearly out, but Jack hadn't called it out (apparently there was no umpire and the players were doing the calling) so he rather meekly let me have the point because it was too late to overturn (I tried telling him multiple times that I was happy for it to be overturned as I also thought it was out, but he didn't accept this offer). In some very bizarre twist I was hitting the ball not with a tennis racket, but with a ballpoint pen, which I upgraded to what I believe was a fountain pen after a few games because I felt it would give me better shots (and I recall one moment where I hit a beautifully angled return off Jack's serve that he was nowhere near getting). I think I was about 3-0 up in games at this point, and was contemplating using a proper tennis racket (quite why I hadn't done this from the start is unknown, but clearly I knew what I was doing, and it brings a whole new meaning to the pen-hold grip in sport.) Unfortunately I woke up before finding out, or can't remember, the outcome of the match but I'd like to imagine that I had a pretty easy win if Jack wasn't able to build up a lead when my equipment was so feeble.

[Elliott Mellor]

Bradley making another appearance last night. This time, he had an item that I really wanted, but had decided that he was going to list it on eBay for £500, despite me telling him that this was a completely unrealistic price and also offering to buy it for a fair price. He didn't seem to care about this, and actually seemed to be listing it at that price purely out of spite to stop me from getting it (even if literally nobody else would have ever bought it for that sum).

[Bradley Horrocks]

Bradley making another appearance last night. This time, he had an item that I really wanted, but had decided that he was going to list it on eBay for £500, despite me telling him that this was a completely unrealistic price and also offering to buy it for a fair price. He didn't seem to care about this, and actually seemed to be listing it at that price purely out of spite to stop me from getting it (even if literally nobody else would have ever bought it for that sum).

Sounds like me

[Ben Wilson]

Neglecting to take my meds last night had a very interesting result.

Note: this dream was either sandwiched between or at the same time as dreams where I was Jack Sparrow marooning people in 4 foot deep water, and one where I was reenactment Buffy the Vampire Slayer episodes while following the synopsis on the wiki (note: I've never actually watched Buffy).

The dream starts at a half-finished building project made entirely out of different kinds of purple minecraft blocks. I climb along the outside wall of the building, following a ghostly woman, until I reach what was to be my flat, at which point I and the other angry tenants moon the boss of the project (or just moon in his general direction as he's nowhere to be seen). I then realise that the COLIN hangover is taking place in a fully furnished hole in the ground in the building, and as my sense of time has gone to pot, every round of every game of every round is taking place at the same time. I'm then tasked with finding a snack for one of the players' children, who is either 0, 1, 4, 10 or 14 years old, or all of the above ages at the same time. A solero is also involved somewhere, but I don't know where. After a time jump, I find myself heading away from co:Leeds desperately trying to find a pair of pants, but ultimately deciding to go commando, before ending up in hospital having dead, necrotic skin peeled off my hands by Fred Trump. I then mercifully wake up.

[Marc Meakin]

You've just reminded me to take the meds I forgot to take last night
My dream was not as entertaining as yours though

Hope you are on the mend

[Mark Deeks]

The band Simple Minds were actually a duet of a cat suit-wearing Jim Carrey and a moustachioed Carl Williams.

[Ben Wilson]

My traditional post-COLIN dream state has arrived right on schedule. Last night saw me walking through a completely 'wrong' version of my workplace with some colleagues when we were ambushed by a swarm of Scarabs. I immediately recognised the situation as a scenario from the Metal Gear Solid game they came from (ttbomk you don't actually get swarmed by them in-game though) so I remained calm, only to then be confronted by a (fictional) HR person from my workplace who was giving me a bollocking about my use of language in the workplace, even as she was being actively set on by the scarabs. The situation then transformed into an actual Metal Gear Solid game with the scarabs still attacking, and the dream then restarted, only this time I had a vibrating katana which would kill the scarabs instantly, but had the disadvantage of running on mains power and had a power cable about 3 feet long. Nonetheless, I set out in search of some scarabs to kill.

So far this has been unrelated to C4C/apto/Countdown, right? Well, at that exact moment, the numbers cheese landed in my hand, and I spent the rest of the dream fiddling with that instead.

In a later dream I was back at work, only to be interrupted by Tim Down and Andy Platt canvassing for the Student Union (in a place where there are no students).

[Elliott Mellor]

Last night's took place in a shop, with a few Countdowners (though it wasn't made clear exactly who, just that they were Countdowners). It transpired that we were all extremely excited to meet Eric Idle, who apparently did his shopping there. We happened upon him at a till, and he greeted me very enthusiastically by name as though he was expecting to see me. This caused me to faint (apparently Countdowners idolise Eric Idle in this subconscious land), and for several minutes afterwards I was completely unable to speak due to shock. As everyone was waving their Countdown autograph books for him to sign, I discovered that I hadn't got one myself and improvised with some sort of strange notebook that I got passed.

[Ben Wilson]

Sometimes I make notes about c4c dreams but then forget to type them up when I wake up and (obviously) forget the details later on. This was in my notes from September 2018, so I'll let you fill in all the gaps.

-Tidying after COLIN at my house
-Tropes boxes
-Kirk insane
-Forgot the spoon
-Piles of Haribo
-Popeye
-Someone nicks my chocolate

[Mark Deeks]

Matt Morrison was worried that his beard had started to turn Uncle Albert-white. Rather than comfort him, I made it worse by pointing out the visible streak of piss that ran through it.

[Mark James]

Had a dream about finding something out and posting about it in the really obvious things you just realised thread. Annoyingly I can't remember what the thing was so I don't know if it was an actual fact that would belong in the actual thread. I think it had something to do with the name of a camera part or some technical name of some process involved in movie making. I just remember being impressed and thinking that it was cool and yet obvious and I was stoked to let you all know by posting about it. Very frustrating.

[Ben Wilson]

A couple of nights ago I had a dream where Dan Byrom and Bob Marley were giving me cryptic crossword clues while helping me look for my trousers. 'Drink of bogus agony (9)' was the one that stuck in my mind.

[Elliott Mellor]

Last night finally delivered some content for this thread.

The setting was a church, and I was apparently a volunteer helper during the service (which seemed to involve me being dressed in a black robe). I had to change the hymn numbers, which involved fiddling with some knobs on a very antiquated board, which was extremely high on a wall and required me to do some quite impressive balancing on objects to access.

After the service, I went to the back, where I was ambushed by a man who made suggestions that I should know who he was, despite me not recognising him at all. I figured out it must be Fred Whibley from his accent, and he got very happy that I still remembered him (his accent was literally the only discernible feature of Fred - he now resembled a rather tall and lanky man with very messy hair, he also seemed to have aged quite a bit.)

[Mark Deeks]

On the same day that my new book came out, Ben Wilson came round my mum's house and painstakingly pointed out every single error.

[Ben Wilson]

Last night I forgot my meds again. :-/ in addition to weirder dreams about playing a version of Madden NFL involving edible ball bearing dice and Alex Kingston, I also had a dream in which the COLIN attendees were being transported to the event on canal barges along with multiple Donald Trumps. Well it might have been Trump, all I know for sure is it was a fat guy with bad skin, an even worse combover telling even worse jokes. Charlie was in the lead barge and I'm pretty sure TCap and Adam Dexter were among the bargees.

The really weird thing about this, though, is that I wasn't there in person but following the entire event live on Google Street View.

[Ben Wilson]

Another one last night. For some reason, the Grand Designs team were in North Hykeham, clearing snow from one of the major crossroads in the town and turning it into an ice ring, regardless of the mayhem that would cause the traffic that passes through it. The team then decide 'I know, we'll hold a scrabble tournament there', and when I arrive (this being the first I hear of it), the tournament directors are opening the tournament with the skateboarder Sky Brown announcing the fixtures, but instead of calling players by name, she's calling them by disability and/or long term illness. A load of scrabblers are there along with Tom Carey, Jack Worsley, Dan McColm and TCap. The latter decides to go to the toilet before the start of round 1 but accidentally crotches himself in a thermos of tea I'm carrying in a plastic bag. I then wake up.

[Ben Wilson]

Last night I found myself clambering around the outside of a building in what I identified as Huddersfield, until I started to panic as I realised I was 4 storeys up. Fortunately, I then came across an open window that had Darren Godfrey on the other side, and he allowed me into the building and I went downstairs by basically dropkicking down every flight, nearly knocking over Gillian Anderson along the way. Following that, I walked along a street looking for other buildings to climb, but as I'd sort-of figured out I was dreaming, all the buildings I saw were bland, flat and inappropriate (I have an odd case where when I start lucid dreaming, everything becomes 'ordinary'). I head toward a nearby bus station only to get blocked by a bunch of land sharks swimming around patrol routes in the sand. After that, I woke up.

[Fiona T]

A bunch of us were in a pub to welcome back Conor, who had just been released from prison. Jack was explaining that Conor had survived in the tough prison environment by fist-bumping everyone and saying "alright mate". Conor then came over to us, fist-bumped me and said "alright mate". I was paying close attention as I thought it could be useful technique if I ever found myself in prison. I then gave Conor a hug but noticed his head was missing - I glanced round and saw it was at the bar, so was in a dilemma as to whether I should let go of the hug, not knowing how his headless body would behave, or hang on to the hug, which was by now feeling very awkward, till his head came back. Then I woke up.

[Ben Wilson]

Last night's dream started in a bus on lincoln High Street that was delayed. Jeff Clayton then knocks on the window to say hi, and explains (through text) he's involved in the opening of a new bus-themed cafe and all buses will be delayed as a result. I then go and look for some dinner, but as Jeff didn't tell me which bus the cafe was in, it takes me a while. The last part of the dream involved Robin Williams singing a song while transforming from a strawberry into a pineapple. At that point, I wake up.

[Jeff Clayton Quiz]

Jeff then knocks on the window to say hi, and explains (through text) he's involved in the opening of a new bus-themed cafe and all buses will be delayed as a result.

Wonderfully flattering and thoroughly disproportionate in equal measure I always took care to ensure I could "step up" buses and drivers whenever either/both were running late!

Cheers for sharing, Ben.

[Ben Wilson]

I'm ill again, so this means very weird dreams. In this case, it starts with the Honda skydiving ad, from the perspective of the cameraman, who somehow ends up landing in COLIN and running into Ian Volante, who from a very precise angle looks like James Nguyen (as in the old avatar, not Ahmed himself). When questioned about this, Ian simply shrugs, but then I realise I'm in a dream and I ask if 'Ian' has a message for the real Ian. He does and the message is '130.'

Everyone then goes for lunch and leaves me alone, so I take the opportunity to examine the prize table, including a large board game compendium, but when I open the shrink wrapping to take a closer look, I get frustrated when I see that there's no cardboard bottom to the box, just polystyrene, which I hate in a game. Maus then returns and asks if there are any coconut funko twirl forms left. I wake up before I'm able to answer him.

[Thomas Carey]

yeah that tracks

[Callum Todd]

Piecing things together, I reckon this means that there were 130 coconut funko twirl forms left. Thanks Ian for (preemptively) answering Maus's questions. Kind of rude of you to leave him hanging like that Ben tbh

[Ben Wilson]

Piecing things together, I reckon this means that there were 130 coconut funko twirl forms left. Thanks Ian for (preemptively) answering Maus's questions. Kind of rude of you to leave him hanging like that Ben tbh

Technically this is only true if Ian also wanted some coconut funko twirl forms.

[Elliott Mellor]

Callum Todd made a star appearance in a dream a couple of nights back. It was the final of the weakest link numbers tournament and the three finalists were me, Edward Ashcroft and Callum Todd. It was (of course) spoilage, but bizarrely it was against apterous prune. Edward had already played and scored 50 and I had scored 60 in my game. However, in an unusual twist, Tass had decided that Callum had to play me instead of apterous prune. I contemplated choosing six large numbers every time to make it much harder for him to even get close to 60, but decided in the interests of fairness to choose four large. After about ten rounds, I was absolutely battering him (I think it was 60-0), but he solved a round I didn't to reduce the deficit. I complimented his brilliant solution, and he then launched in to a diatribe about how he didn't appreciate my veiled accusation of cheating and that I'd had a solution very similar in an earlier round so if he was cheating then I must be as well. He refused to accept that I was genuinely just complimenting a great solve, and insisted that I was implying that he had used a solver and that I was insinuating that he needed a solver in order to have a chance against me (though, considering the score in my dream, perhaps there was some truth in that). Such was the scale of the fallout that the game wasn't resumed, and presumably I was declared the tournament victor by default.

[Gavin Chipper]

A rare one from me - I was at a CO-event. I think it must have started too early to do the parkrun, but me and Thomas Carey were watching out of the window as the parkrunners went past and we cheered Corby when he came through. But then I thought if Corby's doing it then I could have done as well. And I wondered if I could just start late and still beat the people at the back. I didn't end up doing the parkrun though.

Then I played a game on a table with Fiona Ti and some other guy. It was just one game between all of us and we all ended up on 51 points. The guy had already won 7 games I think so it was considered likely he'd make the quarter finals. Fiona had won about two, but it was my first game. Then I think someone said that it would count as a win for all of us but I wondered if this meant we would just play each other again, but apparently not. I don't think much else happened.

[Gavin Chipper]

I had another one the other night. I was doing some 5k race or something - maybe as part of a relay. Anyway I felt it was my best ever run but when I finished my watch said 11:50 ish so I knew I must have gone the wrong way. So I walked the route with Matt Morrison to see where I might have gone wrong. It went through some house and took some route through various rooms. I don't recall finding the source of the error.

[Ben Wilson]

Late night + forgetting meds + hypo = oddness from my subconscious.

It starts with me sitting at a table watching a rehearsal of a Taylor Swift concert with a bunch of people I don't know, all of whom for some reason have snowflake tattoos under their nostrils (one person has two under each nostril, but the same size as if there was one under each nostril, as little sense as that makes). All of a sudden, James Robinson, Chris Marshall and Zubair Patel show up and take their seats. They don't recognise me at first, but I recognise them as there's only one person I know who'd wear a Huddersfield Town shirt to a Taylor Swift concert. I say hi, and then wake up.

...and then when I fall asleep, I get a rare part 2 to the dream, where I'm still waiting for the start of the concert and sat next to James, Chris and Zubair. James (for some reason) lets me write down the events of dream 1 on his shirt, which I then photograph with my phone, and subsequently photograph the photo on the phone with another, bigger phone. An intermission is then called (despite the concert not starting) so I head toward the bogs down a combination of a main road in Hykeham and a corridor in my old school. Along the way I run into Jeff Clayton, and shortly afterward I knacker my ankle against the leg of a table. Then I wake up properly.

[Elliott Mellor]

Last night saw me and Tom Carey trying to make our way in to work on the Metrolink (in this dream, we apparently both work in the same place that I work in real life and alight from the same tram stop as I really do). Due to "engineering works" the trams are all going to random locations, and an incredibly unhelpful worker tells us to get a tram in to Piccadilly Gardens and try and fudge the rest of the journey.

Unfortunately, the tram doesn't go there at all and we end up stranded outside my old school in Oldham. It's now about 08:20 and we need to be in work in Salford for 9. With the nearest tram stop ages away (somehow, the previous tram didn't even drop us at one), I have the idea to try and get someone from the school to give us a lift. Tom has also now acquired what seems to be a giant lollipop sign with his full name "THOMAS WILLIAM CAREY" etched on it and is parading it around for reasons unknown.

After getting in the school, I try and secure a lift for us. My old history teacher and some of my current work colleagues are among the people who are there, but none seem able to help (at no point did I question why my work colleagues are chilling at this school when they also ought to be in work). Eventually someone called Jack offers us a lift, and we rush to his car (a very suave, orange, open-top sports car). Tom has now turned in to Fred Whibley and we speed away to hopefully arrive at work on time.

[Ben Wilson]

A brief one last night where I was on a street in Lincoln playing a game I'd called 'Dread Poker' against Charlie and a couple of other people. 'Dread Poker' is basically Poker mixed with Balatro, you play with 3 other people and draw 10-11 cards (my subconscious was unclear about this) and redraw/discard with every betting round. It sounds crap but everyone in the dream was having fun until I somehow won. A short while later (or a completely different dream), I was punditing a Sunday league football game with Jeff Stelling.

[Mark Deeks]

Had a dream in which Ben Wilson died of a serious head wound caused by falling down drunk at a child's birthday party in Japan.

[Conor]

Was walking down my road, and a car pulled over next to me. It was Mark Watson, and he was looking for Mark Deeks to play basketball together.

[Mark Deeks]

Well I mean we've all had that dream

[Marc Meakin]

Was walking down my road, and a car pulled over next to me. It was Mark Watson, and he was looking for Mark Deeks to play basketball together.

Hoop Dreams indeed

[Gavin Chipper]

I met Fred Mumford at some Countdown event or something. I asked him what his user name was on the Autosport forum. He was a bit coy about it. I asked if it began with C and he said no, which blew my theory out of the water.

It was quite a weird dream generally that involved going to see Derren Brown (which I did the other day in real life) and Jono and Matt Morrison were there. But also people were at my house at one point, or just outside it.

Also playing some weird new version of Road Rash was involved at one point. Hard to pin down what the dream was "about".

[Fred Mumford]

I met Fred Mumford at some Countdown event or something. I asked him what his user name was on the Autosport forum. He was a bit coy about it. I asked if it began with C and he said no, which blew my theory out of the water

What did I look like?

I do often get called something beginning with a C, but I wouldn't want to use it as a forum username.

[Gavin Chipper]

I met Fred Mumford at some Countdown event or something. I asked him what his user name was on the Autosport forum. He was a bit coy about it. I asked if it began with C and he said no, which blew my theory out of the water

What did I look like?

I do often get called something beginning with a C, but I wouldn't want to use it as a forum username.

Short dark hair. Maybe a bit of facial hair. 30s.

This wasn't just a guess from the dream btw. I have a chart, the first column being a list of all the Autosport forumers and the second column being the probability of being Fred Mumford, and the top name begins with C.