Click Here
Friday, January 16, 2004
The dream of last night was long. And involved an unprecedented amount of Thierry Henry. But I never actually saw him for real, oddly enough. In my dream that is.
So it started by me, in a swamp or something. I hear an announcer repeatedly announcing Thierry Henry's full name, but with multiple middle names, including 'Carmen' (huh?). He really made a big deal about the middle names...
Tthen I started work-shadowing Arsene Wenger, and supervised a training session. With just Jens Lehmann and Francesco Fabregas.
After that was done, Wenger told Cesc I'd be playing with them on Sunday, 'cos he couldn't think of anything else for me to do. I was so pleased, but told Cesc that I was crap. He didn't mind.
I ran after Jens, but he didn't wanna talk about anything really.
The next part of my dream I was on the moors, in some sort of expediton. There were many ancient artefacts, that we kept finding. One was a videotape of an old advert. It was Henry, racing Ronaldo and Owen for a ball. They raced for it through crowded streets, and it looked like the best ad I could ever imagine. Then, the ball went under a market stall.
Ronaldo then did an amazing commando roll across the table, while Henry used his power to simply burst through the centre (there were two tables wedged together). Then Henry was about to edge it, when something happened. Someone must have obstructed him or something, because he turned and gesticulated at the camera wildly, and that's where the ad ended. It must have been an outtake or something, I thought.
And there was something else about Henry. He had no shirt, as befitted the advert. But he looked, well, maigre was the only word that came to mind. He was practically emaciated. It was disturbing: he had kind of an anger in his eyes.
So it started by me, in a swamp or something. I hear an announcer repeatedly announcing Thierry Henry's full name, but with multiple middle names, including 'Carmen' (huh?). He really made a big deal about the middle names...
Tthen I started work-shadowing Arsene Wenger, and supervised a training session. With just Jens Lehmann and Francesco Fabregas.
After that was done, Wenger told Cesc I'd be playing with them on Sunday, 'cos he couldn't think of anything else for me to do. I was so pleased, but told Cesc that I was crap. He didn't mind.
I ran after Jens, but he didn't wanna talk about anything really.
The next part of my dream I was on the moors, in some sort of expediton. There were many ancient artefacts, that we kept finding. One was a videotape of an old advert. It was Henry, racing Ronaldo and Owen for a ball. They raced for it through crowded streets, and it looked like the best ad I could ever imagine. Then, the ball went under a market stall.
Ronaldo then did an amazing commando roll across the table, while Henry used his power to simply burst through the centre (there were two tables wedged together). Then Henry was about to edge it, when something happened. Someone must have obstructed him or something, because he turned and gesticulated at the camera wildly, and that's where the ad ended. It must have been an outtake or something, I thought.
And there was something else about Henry. He had no shirt, as befitted the advert. But he looked, well, maigre was the only word that came to mind. He was practically emaciated. It was disturbing: he had kind of an anger in his eyes.
