Tommy Pullmyfinger Wants to Know About Your Dreams.
Tommy Pullmyfinger is in the dream interpretation biz. Of course he wants you to take a big hit of his new perfume first, but he has hired an expert to analyze your dreams.
The expert is Craig Webb. Not Dr. Craig Webb. Just good old Craig off the street. Craig, I play a Dream Expert on television.
I thought I’d give it a go… so I plugged these terms which I thought related well to fragrances into the interpreter… after the term is a short summary of the expert’s opinion.
- horse turds – not found
- flowers – a good sign; unless they are dead or dying
- falling – out of control
- gobshite – not found
- feeling – not found
- dreaming – not found
- ice – you are turning inward and putting your emotions in hibernation
- music – if you hear it when you wake up, remember the lyrics, try to sing it all day
- smell – trouble ahead, it might pass the smell test
- money – if you get it, good; if you lose it bad.
Which brings me to the aha moment. If you put up an interactive site some dipwad will screw around with it and maybe even tell somebody else.
Here are Sixty’s interpretations:
- horse turds – you watch the movie Braveheart too much
- flowers – you probably need pollinating
- falling – not as good as springing
- gobshite – don’t eat Mexican food right before bed
- feeling – that warmness may mean you peed the bed
- dreaming – if you dream of a dream and nobody knows will the tree fall?
- ice – twice as nice
- music – embrace your earworms
- smell – Tommy Pullmyfinger is a heavy duty fruity-ka-zootie
- money – send some to Sixty
BTW: the music is pretty. It was recorded by a bloke from Yeovil, Somerset in the southwest of England. The woman is pretty. And why is that? Why use a woman to sell to women?
Oh God, I couldn’t tolerate the website, but I’m certain it’s dreck of the highest order.
My dreams tend to be direct lifts from my day’s events. Yesterday I watched “Marnie”, the old Alfred Hitchcock movies, and last night dreamed I’d bludgeoned to death a rival for my husband’s affections. Well, duh.