Tales Of The Gurrier

I had a dream the other night. No not one of those dreams. It was a Gary Coleman dream. I do not dream of Gary often. This may have been the first dream of mine in which he featured heavily. There we were, Gary and I chatting away amicably. I have no recollection of what we were talking about, dreams are funny that way, only that it was all going swimmingly until Gary made some strange remark. Some conversational gaffe, some outrageous comment that could not be allowed to slide and I turned to him and said in a comedy accent.
“Whatchooo talkin’ bout Gary?”
Chuckling to myself at my droll wit I nudged him in the ribs and continued.
“Whatchooo talkin’ bout Gary?” I repeated.
Gary looked at me blankly.
“I said whatchooo talkin’ bout Gary? Eh? You know, whatchooo talkin’ bout.”
“I’m sorry I don’t know what you mean” said Gary innocently.
“You know” I ploughed on. “From that show, you used to say it in that show from the eighties.”
“I’m drawing a blank here Donal could you elaborate?”
“You know, that show, what was it called, Different Strokes”
Gary is staring at me mystified and a little upset now.
I’m beginning to get desperate. I’ve made a horrendous social faux pas with my new friend Gary Coleman and I have to dig myself out of this hole. Like a drowning man I grasp the first piece of flotsam that passes by.
“You know the show Gary, you were in it. How did it go;
Now, the world don’t move to the beat of just one drum,
What might be right for you, may not be right for some.
A man is born, he’s a man of means.
Then along come two, they got nothing but their jeans,”

My rendition of the theme tune peters out as memory fails me but then with a slow smile of joy spreading across his cherubic features Gary begins to nod vigorously.
“Oh yes of course, Different Strokes, now I remember. Hey whatchooo talkin’ bout Donal? Heh, heh he, whatchooo talkin’ bout, heh, heh, heh.”
We laugh together in the manner they do at the end of tv series in the eighties.
I’m so relieved I almost pass out, then I wake up.

This was not as strange as the dream I had following night when I discovered my ex boss had a secret room on the roof of the building filled with strange beeping machines. When I stumbled upon him he was in there hunched over in the dark watching videos of Lions being shot with high powered rifles on You Tube.

The really scary thing is I completely understand the bizarre Electronic Lion murder viewing room dream but the Gary Coleman dream? Not a clue.

This entry was posted on Saturday, April 29th, 2006 at 9:38 pm and is filed under Bloggery. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.