Some say he does not actually exist
After a sizeable gap in the celebrity dreams, I had a random corker of one yesterday. It started off as what was clearly a Top Gear challenge - I haven't even watched it in the last week - and it was set, in all places, a school. This is my subconscious, after all. It quickly became clear that I could only see Clarkson and Hammond, and the way the others were refering to me meant one thing - I *was* James May. Well, it's been some time since I did a bit of subconscious body swapping! It was quite therapeutic being Captain Slow, he apparently has some kind of zen quality.
The challenge itself seemed to involve toy cars. Y'know, not even real cars. LOLZ. And Jeremy ended up on a toy car in a paddling pool for reasons completely unknown. And in a similar vein, the me!James ended up lying on his back on the hall floor, looking up at some roof window only to exclaim, somewhat uncharacteristically, "FUCK ME, IT'S MY CAT!". And sure enough, the cat jumped through the window into the hall. I have no idea what that was about.
Just to compound matters, there was a later a sing along of Sparks' Lighten Up Morrissey (which was in my head for the rest of the morning, subconscious thankyouverymuch). And Prince Charles - no, this really is getting more random - had a cameo. He wandered into the hall, muttered "I don't know what I'm doing here." and promptly disappeared again. As you do.
In real life, when I'm not being James May, I'm on kitten duty (or, alternatively, catpoop duty) as Mum and James are away at Alton Towers hotel. There's a mass civil service conference there. SRSLY. So if any serial killers want me, I'll be here alone all night.