Russell Brand in my head

I watched Russell Brand (and the other guests Ashton Kutcher and Ronnie Corbett) on Jonathan Ross last night. And then I had a dream about him (more later).

I've always liked Russell Brand – since his very early days presenting Big Brother's Big Mouth a few years ago. I find him funny and love his way with words – he is articulate, that's for sure. He's a mad, pirate-esque rogue, and I like the fact that he is different and is controversial. People who call him stupid are sadly mistaken. One thing he is not, is stupid. I can see why he irritates some people but he is someone you either get or you don't. To call him stupid is stupid.

Anyway, last night, in my dream, I was staying at Russell's house, which was in fact a castle. It was a large place set in rambling grounds. It had tiny windows (like slits where arrows would be fired from) and larger ones, that had sturdy locks. He had cooked dinner for me, S, and some other people who had been invited and set it out on a large wooden table. There was a graveyard outside, a stormy, gothic place with fallen stones and crumbling headstones on uneven ground.

The scene changed and I was back inside, in a hall that reminded me of school assembly, and there was Russell, flitting in and out like a big, black crow of a man. Next thing, I realised I had lost my green handbag with all that it contained (I don't have a green handbag and if I did, it wouldn't be the shade of green that appeared in dreamland...). Someone had stolen my purse, keys, phone... Russell was very upset by this. I felt frustrated that I'd have to sort all those things out. Then, Russell started to show me various antiques around the place. And that was that. I dare anyone to psychoanalyse that one!