I am castrating myself and then cook and eat my genitals. Tastes like chicken until I remember what it is and then I am sick and disgusted at my cannibalism.
Brian the snail from the magic roundabout is cloning himself.
American civil war re-enactors march past my house with drums in the dark. The drums are lit up, they are on fire inside.
An overgrown allotment. I try to cut through a poly tunnel. My way is blocked by undergrowth and bags of rubbish. An old man is trying to clear it up. A homeless crackhead has been following me. We all chat and then I leave. The crack head follows me. He wants to stay at my place. I say no. Eventually I have his fingers bent back and my foot on his head to emphasise the message.