Last night I had a really weird dream. Even weirder for me in that no zombies were involved. Anyway, me, Karen and K's pal Liz were driving round Scotland visiting wee touristy villages that reeked of Wicker Man type in-breeding. Anyway, they were populated by serious oddballs, and even though it was summer, there was serious snow on parts of the roads, and some of the roads were at 45 degree angles, so the car risked rolling over as you drove along.
We were just about to buy more tartan tat, when I woke up ! That's what you call a close call. Give me the dreams where I'm armed to the teeth fighting off hordes of zombies. That's much less scary.
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