The World According to... Boring John

I wish I had, though.

Instead, I was some kind of daring fugitive, on the run for doing something wrong! (Probably complained too 'loudly' about the incompetent and corrupt BLiar government. Do you reckon he ever read George Orwell's Animal Farm?)

Anyway, the boys in blue were after me. Some kind of uniform, for sure.

And they easily caught me. Meant business, I seem to remember. I was to be summarily executed. Each and every one of the 'soldiers' was to take turns in emptying a few rounds into me.

They were pretty angry with me.

And I just accepted my fate. Walked with the first 'soldier' to my place of execution -- the man that was going to actually kill me -- and even agree remember agreeing to keep my hands in the air so that he would know if I was dead or not!

(How accommodating of me.)

Gun goes against the top of my head.

Bullet is fired.

And then another bullet.

Strange feeling, having a bullet pass through your head.

Don't remember being frightened or cross or anything. I don't think I was looking forward to the pain of the bullet passing through my not-so-thick skull, but that's all that came to mind (if you'll pardon the expression).

So two bullets pass through my head.

And then I seem to be floating, floating past my very own body a little while later.

I see only two bullet holes in my head. The other men had obviously not wanted to waste their bullets on my already dead body.

That was considerate of them.

And then...

As I woke from yet another marvellous BJ dream, I could hear the pigeons doing a merry dance on my rooftop. So loud, and repetitive was their banging around that I seriously thought someone was banging, albeit halfheartedly, on my front door.

I then had a short day-dream about putting spikes on my roof, and imagined the argument I'd be having with the pigeon owner when the first of 'em got spiked.

(Why can't I have sexy dreams like everyone else?)

(Why can't I dream of you?)