....they can come true, according to Gabrielle. Which is fucking ace news as I dreamed that Tommy Knocker got knocked down by a fucking 30 tonne artic last night. Not that it's likely to happen as "Mr Sensitive" can't be taken anywhere near the main road can he, as he barks like fuck at everything that goes past. That's my walks to the pub fucked. Thanks Tommy Lad. It's not his fault, he's afraid, that's why he acts like that says me Mum. She obviously hasn't considered the option that he's simply a fuckin retard. Doesn't like sheep, horses, cars, lorries, the window being open, the window being shut, me Mum and Dad kissing (not keen on that one meself like, but there's no reason to kick off about it), the noise that the fridge makes when it's been open for more than 30 seconds, the noise that the washing machine makes when it's finished running. What else is there he doesn't like? Oh yeah, thunder and lightning, fucking shi