Saturation Points

From now on I'll be using Posterous instead of this old blog thing.  The Blogs page will include a feed from Posterous but the actual page looks nicer.

So who was that girl in my dream last night?  The one in the red t-shirt and shorts who went out to stand in the rain?  Sadly we'll probably never know.  Stupid dreams.

I was going to start with the phrase "This is a weird one," but that seems rather unnecessary.  They're all weird, aren't they?  As if getting your clothes wet isn't weird enough in itself, doing it in a dream paints an extra layer of weirdness over the top of it.  So... this is a fairly normal one.

The protagonist in this one was a girl called Laura, a friend of a friend who I met a handful of times about three years ago and, to be honest, haven't really given much thought to since.  Thank you, brain, for your ceaseless searching for new subjects.  Now, the real-life Laura is, to be fair, nothing special.  Slim build, bleach-blonde hair, distinctly average face.  Not unattractive, but not a head-turner either.  In my dream, however, she appeared to be approaching some kind of supermodel status.

What she had done was to somehow tap into the idea that doing a wetlook shoot was some kind of fast-track to gaining popular recognition.  To this end she had dressed herself up in a fantastic figure-hugging, ankle-length orange dress of crushed silk, teamed with beautiful black underwear and an amazing pair of black high-heeled sandals, the kind with straps which criss-crossed their way up her calves to just below the knees.  Having done this, Laura had a photographer take a large series of photographs of her very slowly soaking her outfit in a bath of water.

Somehow, the photos were being released over a long period of time, starting with her perched on the edge of the bath and building up to the point where she was completely soaked, at which point she would be hailed as the greatest supermodel of our age.  Annoyingly, though others had received the whole set and were marvelling over how the soaked orange dress showed off her fabulously sexy body, I had only managed to acquire the first few photos, up to the stage where she was just about knee deep in the water.  Even these initial pictures were extremely sexy, with her spiky, strappy shoes visible through the soaked fabric of her dress and the promise of more to come.  I never did see the rest of them, of course, but it makes me wonder if I shouldn't make some kind of effort to get back in touch with Laura.  You never know, do you?

Good news: The front cover of this week's NME has a full page shot of a world-famous, blonde, pouting female singer standing waist-deep in a swimming pool, fully clothed.

Who could it be?  Lady Gaga?  Kylie?  Madonna?  Britney?

Ewwwwww.

I don't believe it!  A wetlook scene from US television that isn't shot in total darkness and doesn't cut away to another scene as soon as the girls get wet.  I guess they thought "Ah, it's only Ugly Betty, nobody could possibly be aroused in any way."  We already know, however, that I have strange taste in women.

One of the reasons for starting this blog was to allow me to keep a note of my watery dreams so that I wouldn't forget them.  Of course, since then I haven't had any.  Until last night.

It's all a bit vague, as dreams tend to be, but I was on some kind of road trip in the USA with a female companion.  Annoyingly though, I've no idea who she was.  She was wearing a pale blue t-shirt like one my ex Natalie used to wear, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't her; the dream girl was better looking.  Anyway, I was in the passenger seat as Dream Girl pulled in to a petrol station (okay, gas station if you must) but instead of petrol pumps (yeah yeah, gas pumps!), there were several devices which looked like pe..... gas pumps but actually delivered water instead of any kind of petroleum-based product.  They had shower attachments on the ends of the nozzles and were clearly designed for washing cars, but Dream Girl decided it would be much more fun to turn the shower on herself.  I sat there open mouthed as she allowed the water to pour over her shoulders and down her back, turning her already quite thin t-shirt into little more than a pale blue tint over her skin and her bra.  After thoroughly soaking herself, she got back in the car and drove off, but we didn't get very far as she found it quite difficult to drive with my hands all over her...  8-)

Poor old Lily Allen is apparently suffering from bronchitis.  Well, Lily, didn't your mother ever tell you you'd catch your death of cold if you got your clothes wet?

Fortunately, I can recommend a foolproof remedy.  Absolutely guaranteed to work.  If it doesn't, just send me photographic proof that you actually tried it and I'll give you your money back...

Didn't happen.  Of course it didn't happen.  It was never going to happen.  I can't believe I ever thought there was any possibility that it would happen.  Tch.

Sometimes, just very occasionally, the God of Strange Perversions smiles down on me, pats me on the head and says "Go on then."

We had some friends round last night.  For the sake of argument let's call them, oooh, I don't know, Jack and Ellie. I've known them for nearly a decade, longer even than Her Indoors; in fact I was there the first time they met, although it took them several years to become an item, largely because Jack was married to someone else at the time and Ellie went off with another of our friends that night, much to my disappointment because I've always rather fancied her and never really made much of a secret of the fact.  Anyway, they've finally done the decent thing and got married - in Australia, without any of us.  But now they're back, they're having a big wedding reception type party next Saturday in a rather swanky hotel.  You know, the kind where you have to smuggle your own drink in because you can only afford to buy Coke at the bar.

So anyway, they came over last night for a few post-wedding, pre-party drinks, as you do, and the four of us were milling around in the kitchen idly chatting about the impending party when Ellie casually threw out her little snippet of information which stopped me dead in my tracks.  "Oh yeah, Jack, I spoke to Wendy and she says the skirt will be fine in the water, but she's not sure about the top, but... meh, doesn't matter if it gets ruined, I'll never wear it again anyway."

Pardon?  Not quite daring to believe what I'd just heard, and fearful of disapproving comments from Her Indoors, I said nothing, but the thought has been eating away at me ever since.  The lovely Ellie is planning on jumping in the pool in her wedding dress.  That's such a fantastic thought it deserves to be in extra large bold italics.

I should probably feel guilty for even thinking like this, given that she's just married, but I can't.  I'm so excited by the thought of finally seeing Ellie soaked in her lovely dress that any kind of logical thought has completely gone out of the window.  Of course it probably won't happen and I'll be hugely disappointed, but I'm clinging on to this thought for at least a week.

I don't consider myself to be a huge Who fan, but I like to keep an eye on the show from time to time, so murmurings of a new special edition billed as The Waters Of Mars caught my attention.  I've been looking out for details over the past couple of weeks but they're only just starting to trickle out (as it were).  Naturally with a title like that, my first thought was "Is there going to be any wetlook in it?"  In fact, that was pretty much my only thought, it has to be said.  I still haven't found out many details, so I don't think what I'm about to say is a spoiler, but if you're a mad Who fan who doesn't want to know anything at all about the show before it goes out, look away now!  Otherwise, read on...