For a period of time between the agez of 9 & 13, I was apparently unaware that BED is the greatest place in the entire world and somewhere that I will never want to be apart from when I get older. For awhile I was an Olympic-ready sleepwalker. I would consistently stumble outta mah sheets and wander around my family's house like a fudging lunatic. I was partix fond of stalking about the chamber of my parents' slumber and there were roughly about 10 times I recall waking up sitting on the floor of my parent's room, staring @ them while they slept. I then would wonder how the hell I got there and how the hell I'd get outta there wiffout waking them. Somehow I always did and I never had to make up any liezzz about why I was ceaselessly breaking-and-entering their bedroom @ three in the morning.
But other timez I gave myself away. Sure I was a zombie voyeur, but worse than that was when I would actually carry on full-length conversations with my family while I was unconscious. A malfunctioning human walkie-talkie, my gob would run on and on about who effing knowz what until my parent's would wake my azz up and put me back to bed. My family has several stories of times when I would flop outta the house and drag mah corpse feet out to the living room where everyone else would be watch Nick at Nite or some crap. I'd stand in the doorway and start rattling on and on about rando crap that made no sense. My parents tell me that it usually had to do wiff schoolwerk and having to go to my friend's house to do a project or some shit and my family would humor me and then
But I wonder...what if I still talk in my sleep and what if I divulge certain...er...embarrassing detailz about my life to whoever is
All these terrible thoughtz came rushing into my skull when I found and thoroughly digested one of mah favorite new blogz, Sleep Talkin' Man. It's written by this lady whose hubbie is a regular night-talker. The blog is a collection of all the crazzzy backward azz mumbalojumbaloz that he belches out during the wee hours. Most of it is quite hilarious, but I can't stop thinking about how scared I would be to say something incriminating about a wrongdoing or a shameful event from my past and have my significant other chew me out about it the next day...
...aaaaaah shoot. Leave it to me to take sumfing light-hearted and fun and make it an anxiety-inducing nightmare. CHECK OUT DA SITE and prepare to laugh your bumcheekz off.