And In Those Dreams

Oh the horror, I've just woken up from a terrible nightmare. I lay down for a nap while I waited for Reporting Scotland to come on as I'd a bet with the Republican Boys that the Celtic shame at Falkirk yesterday wouldn't merit a mention. They were sure it would since there could be no hiding their antics this time but I however, knew better. I've had a few drinks with the management at BBC Scotland in the Chip you see, and they are always laughing and high fiving at their latest putting one over the establishment team. When I once pointed out that Rangers were no more the establishment team these days than Greenock Morton I was scolded and asked what kind of Catholic am I which caused me confusion because I'm not. At least I don't think I am. It's all so confusing; I feel like a Catholic but I'm not according to my mum who also says I'm an embarrassment and why do I pander to the lowest common denominator all the time?

Anyway, so I was napping and I had this awful nightmare that I was called into Ibrox by the new Communications Director of Rangers, it was Jim Traynor!  He met me in the trophy room and told me to remember it well and then we were in the press box and he told me to remember this too. Then the dream took me to the terracings where we stood in the snow among the blue seats and the director turned into my dad who told me my new match seat was here beside the Blue Order then my feet turned into pumpkins, Traynor turned into Martin Bain who led me to the toilets where he unbuckled my belt, dropped my trousers and started to ride me as I screamed and begged for more. Then he sneered, spat on me and I woke up. My wife asked if I'd had the Neil Lennon dream again but I said no and went next door to the bedroom to cry.

Tomorrow I'm going to write another piece on the Rangers fans in Bucharest, not because my editor told me to, in fact he told me to lay off for a while but I've got the bit between my teeth and shall not be silenced and because the Republican Boys told me that they'd leave off calling me 'stinky' and 'useful idiot' for a bit if I did although I still maintain that these are surely signs of how much I have been accepted into their ranks.