Sleep Please

I can't sleep. Michael is dreaming. I can tell because he is making sounds. They sound like he's eating a juicy pork chop. It's rare for him to make any sounds in his sleep, the exception being snoring. At least he can sleep.

I didn't think I did anything in my sleep. Boy was I wrong. ((((Flashback 1995))))


Michael and I were totally in that new fucking stage. He pretty much lived in my dorm room. I had all the alcohol and other stuff. So we stayed up very late partying. The next day we were going to meet my mom at Red Lobster. Hence, we had to set the alarm. The alarm went off and I wasn't awake. It was the first time he was meeting my mom so Michael was up . He thought I was awake because I told him I was. I was actually still sleeping though. Here's how I know. I farted like it was nobody's business. I didn't find this little tid bit out until a few years later, but I was mortified. (((Back to present day)))

I also later found out I talk in my sleep. A lot. It's ridiculous the things I say. Michael takes note of what I say and then heckles me. For a year or so our screen saver said, "Yo Adrian, How about some Halibut steaks!" I mean I spew this shit out in a dead sleep. One time I sat up in bed and started yelling, "Son of Sam! Son of Sam!" What is the matter with me? I mean it's not like I don't talk enough during the day.

Shit. Why can't I sleep!



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