Re: Snooker Related Dreams
All snooker tables are 3D
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Iranu - Posts: 41519
- Joined: 24 January 2010
- Walk-On: Fort Knox - Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds
Prop wrote:Dan-cat wrote:I once had an incredible visual of a 3D snooker table towards the tail end of an ayahuasca (DMT) journey. A waking dream if you like.
And has it spun round a love letter fell into my head, a love letter from me to Ronnie. In the letter I thanked him for all the joy he had given me over the years being a fan, and for introducing me to Dr Steve Peter's seminal work The Chimp Paradox, a life-changing theorem for me. Useful information that I have passed on to many others through my seminar Happiness Technology and mindset coaching http://www.happytech.tv
This is the most Dan Cat post in the history of all Dan Cat posts.
Dan-cat wrote:I had a dream that two journeymen snooker players had a baby, and called him 'Rory Thor'.
Empire State Human wrote:I'm playing in the final of the Welsh Open against Joe Perry. It's the deciding frame and we're on the final blue. I've played a killer safety shot, leaving the cue ball on the baulk cushion, and the blue is at the opposite end and there is no easy safety shot due to the position of the pink and black. Joe eventually decides to go for the pot, although he twitches and massively over-hits it. The blue hits the pocket knuckle and flies a dozen or so feet into the air ...
So high, in fact, that it disappears into the rafters and doesn't come down. On closer inspection, it's found to have rested in an abandoned bird's nest between two eggs, lying on a cross-beam. To my great alarm, the referee does not call a foul, and he argues that because the nest is positioned directly above the table it's considered still in play. I say it's a foul because the ball has left the bed of the table, but the referee vehemently disagrees. I appeal to Joe for help, but he just sits grinning in his chair.
Inevitably, I'm left attempting an impossible jump shot which is called a miss until snookers are required. But then it strikes me that Joe can't win without my concession because he could never play the next shot himself without me exercising the option to make him play again should he miss. So Joe makes me play again from the resulting position, and again, and again, and I still don't concede. Each time I look at him, the smug grin is permanently fixed on his face. In retaliation, between each shot I do my 'Steve Davis routine' of walking around the table and retiring to my chair for a sip of water before lamely jumping the cue ball no more than 2 feet in the air.
This deadlock continues for several hours as the spectators gradually thin out. By 5 am, the frame score is something like 950-50, and only half a dozen spectators remain. It hits me that the situation has passed what I could ever justify, and I start to feel pity for the spectators. I also consider that this incident might overshadow my entire career, that I would be panned in the press and on social media for not conceding in a hopelessly lost situation. Reluctantly, I concede. Joe punches the air in delight amid a smattering of fatigued applause. We have not spoken since.
chengdufan wrote:Empire State Human wrote:I'm playing in the final of the Welsh Open against Joe Perry. It's the deciding frame and we're on the final blue. I've played a killer safety shot, leaving the cue ball on the baulk cushion, and the blue is at the opposite end and there is no easy safety shot due to the position of the pink and black. Joe eventually decides to go for the pot, although he twitches and massively over-hits it. The blue hits the pocket knuckle and flies a dozen or so feet into the air ...
So high, in fact, that it disappears into the rafters and doesn't come down. On closer inspection, it's found to have rested in an abandoned bird's nest between two eggs, lying on a cross-beam. To my great alarm, the referee does not call a foul, and he argues that because the nest is positioned directly above the table it's considered still in play. I say it's a foul because the ball has left the bed of the table, but the referee vehemently disagrees. I appeal to Joe for help, but he just sits grinning in his chair.
Inevitably, I'm left attempting an impossible jump shot which is called a miss until snookers are required. But then it strikes me that Joe can't win without my concession because he could never play the next shot himself without me exercising the option to make him play again should he miss. So Joe makes me play again from the resulting position, and again, and again, and I still don't concede. Each time I look at him, the smug grin is permanently fixed on his face. In retaliation, between each shot I do my 'Steve Davis routine' of walking around the table and retiring to my chair for a sip of water before lamely jumping the cue ball no more than 2 feet in the air.
This deadlock continues for several hours as the spectators gradually thin out. By 5 am, the frame score is something like 950-50, and only half a dozen spectators remain. It hits me that the situation has passed what I could ever justify, and I start to feel pity for the spectators. I also consider that this incident might overshadow my entire career, that I would be panned in the press and on social media for not conceding in a hopelessly lost situation. Reluctantly, I concede. Joe punches the air in delight amid a smattering of fatigued applause. We have not spoken since.
This is possibly my favourite post on the island
Alex0paul wrote:I just dreamt about Dan Cat
Scooper wrote:Strange how often The Gentleman makes his way into dreams.
Scooper wrote:Strange how often The Gentleman makes his way into dreams.
Iranu wrote:Scooper wrote:Strange how often The Gentleman makes his way into dreams.
Can’t even shout.
Can’t even cry.
The Gentleman is coming by.
He’s looking in windows,
He’s knocking on doors.
He needs to take seven and he might take yours.
Can’t call to mom,
Can’t say a word.
You’re gonna die screaming but you won’t be heard.
SnookerEd25 wrote:Scooper wrote:Strange how often The Gentleman makes his way into dreams.
A dream to some…
A NIGHTMARE TO OTHERS
SnookerFan wrote:SnookerEd25 wrote:Scooper wrote:Strange how often The Gentleman makes his way into dreams.
A dream to some…
A NIGHTMARE TO OTHERS
Alright, Pinhead.