I am walking along muddy curved grooves with a group of people. I drop some musical weights which clang on the ground and split. Around a bend I see Mr Benn approaching, sporting a fine moustache. I have to get to him before the wrong person in my group does, I manage it and I pass him the weights.
We reverse away from each other and I’m singing a song in my head, “Mr Benn, has a friend, round the bend” which for some reason I find hilarious.
I am at work and a very tired manager is sad at my psychedelic message, believing it to be a coded message about the updated Apple TV that is coming soon. I disconnect my huge white phone, and look at a new version of Skype. It informs me that due to a change in Chinese fish consumption, tin cars from china will no longer have sharp edges.