Caution

I don’t know if it’s because of recent press coverage or what, but again I dreamt of being a squaddie. This time I was in Iraq....

We had been given a couple of days off, so a gang of us headed out for good times. Now I’m sure in real life that wouldn’t happen, but this is a dream and I’m a frickin’ dog who can type, so can it.

Anywayyyy, since the US HaHarmy had blown almost everything up, there was nowhere to go. You can’t exactly make your own amusement either since alcohol’s about as available as the totty over there. Sure there are a lot of black tents scurrying around, but you never know what minger lies beneath so we didn’t take our chances. It was tough as we had 3 months of horny to get rid of and were hoping to do things even Saddam Hussein would’ve been ashamed of....

So, being hard-pushed to find much to do, we ended up going to a mosque. It was pretty dull, so we did our Wayne’s World impression and chanted “We’re not worthy, we’re not worthy” - it was a short visit with a long queue of angry arabs trying to kick the Christianity out of us.

We wanted to steal the shoes from outside the mosque and arrange them in a trail leading to a crater, but Corporal Gayboy didn’t think it would improve relations. He was always a total buzzkill, but we’d get our own back on him every so often by swapping the contents of his washbag with random replacements, often with a theme for the week: e.g. condoms, inflated/used/filled with food (sometimes digested) or with messages written on like “this is my hat” – apt for a dickhead.

The dream ended with one of the black tents screaming, from afar at first, but getting louder and I awoke to find my owner walking through the door with her slippers held out before her. Clearly she’d found the message I’d left for her and maybe now she’ll reconsider the whole getting Toddy castrated idea.