The Hipster Hoover

I am at a power station with an MP and a large group of people. I have dreamt of this place before,it has an Ageing Device made of crystal underneath it. Inside the power station are glass cases with living animals in, rodents mostly. These cases are arranged in a square. Inside the square scientists are meeting, discussing the destruction of evidence, to hide their misdeeds. The MP goes in and tells them that kids were getting depressed and suicidal after taking layered animal hormones produced there. They look unconfortable. Some leave. I take a seat. I look up and I am outside an old lady’s place with some tea. I go inside and play with a ginger cat.

I am on a train. The carriage is massive, as wide as a football pitch, and we are playing a mixture of Death Race 2000 and Rollerball. It is absolute carnage. 

My Mum uses my Hoover and breaks it, I try to explain to her how it works. I am sorting out old scrapsof paper with jokes and cartoons on. Helping to clean the house. Some things are so knackered even clean they look crap. An old CRT TV. Is it Hipster retro, or just poor?  I am living in a windmill at Haldon Belvedere, John Wayne is my friend and hides my shoes, afraid that I will wander off in a depressed state. I fall asleep and wake up perplexed; I am smooth between the legs, having the genitals of an action man.


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