Earlier today Facebook reminded me of a dream I had eight years ago:
I had a very weird dream last night. Frank Lampard, while on a training run past my house, ripped up an electrical cable and threw it into one of my neighbour's gardens. The cable set fire to the lawn, and subsequently burnt down almost every house in my road, including mine.
I managed to get the dogs and cats out in time, but for some reason I kept thinking the only person who could call the fire brigade was my brother Jon. He was on the old practice course near the golf club, working on his swing.
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