So... I just woke up about 30 minutes ago. Its 3:07 AM CST.
And I think I may broken my face. Ma meal ticket! Don't ask me how. Don't ask me why. Just know that I have.
I have no idea what the fuck is going on. When I blink it like causes my lips tp smack. Swallowing makes me sneeze. I'm making one of those kinds of faces that when you were younger grown people would tell you, "Hey, stop doing that or it'll stay that way!" And it DID!
So I immediately burst into my parents room and woke them up, thinking I had suffered a stroke or aneurysm. They, of course, thought they were being robbed by a boogey man and his pet dog, so some confusion ensued. After everything got straightened out, my mother assured me that I had just slept on it wrong and the contortions would cease momentarily.
Who the damn?! How do you sleep on your face wrong? I mean, I thought one of the few things in life I had down solid was my sleeping technique. That, riding a bike and changing oil were my automatics. Now sleep is starting to leave me too? Betrayal runs deeper than the streams and colder than bared steel.
And let me say, that waking up with all your wodgits not matriculating in their proper whoseits is SCARY AS ALL SHITDAMNHELL! First I thought I was blind, but then I remembered that I sleep with my room completely dark. Then I thought I was being attacked by Dire Rats, but forgot that my dog was sleeping in my room. Then I tried using him as a Seeing-Eye Dog, but forgot that he don't do nothing unless Peanut Butter or Cheese were involved. I then sought to further damage my face by opening my door into it, which was a treat and a half. After fashioning a leash (noose) for my dog out of a sweater, and using my sword as I cane, I braved the unknown confines of my house. Didn't. Overreact. In the slightest.
Guess its just old age. I already feel the Ahlzheimer's coming on. My grandmother calls'm "The Fits". Before long it'll be Tapioka, Depends, and telling the "whippersnappers" about my spacetime ventures with Ronald and the Reaganauts!
Ya see, we use to put an ace of spades in our cap, cause that were the style at the time. But you could only use the ace after igniting your P-38 explosive space modulator, caps having been invented the previous winter...
Paint my chicken coop!
And I think I may broken my face. Ma meal ticket! Don't ask me how. Don't ask me why. Just know that I have.
I have no idea what the fuck is going on. When I blink it like causes my lips tp smack. Swallowing makes me sneeze. I'm making one of those kinds of faces that when you were younger grown people would tell you, "Hey, stop doing that or it'll stay that way!" And it DID!
So I immediately burst into my parents room and woke them up, thinking I had suffered a stroke or aneurysm. They, of course, thought they were being robbed by a boogey man and his pet dog, so some confusion ensued. After everything got straightened out, my mother assured me that I had just slept on it wrong and the contortions would cease momentarily.
Who the damn?! How do you sleep on your face wrong? I mean, I thought one of the few things in life I had down solid was my sleeping technique. That, riding a bike and changing oil were my automatics. Now sleep is starting to leave me too? Betrayal runs deeper than the streams and colder than bared steel.
And let me say, that waking up with all your wodgits not matriculating in their proper whoseits is SCARY AS ALL SHITDAMNHELL! First I thought I was blind, but then I remembered that I sleep with my room completely dark. Then I thought I was being attacked by Dire Rats, but forgot that my dog was sleeping in my room. Then I tried using him as a Seeing-Eye Dog, but forgot that he don't do nothing unless Peanut Butter or Cheese were involved. I then sought to further damage my face by opening my door into it, which was a treat and a half. After fashioning a leash (noose) for my dog out of a sweater, and using my sword as I cane, I braved the unknown confines of my house. Didn't. Overreact. In the slightest.
Guess its just old age. I already feel the Ahlzheimer's coming on. My grandmother calls'm "The Fits". Before long it'll be Tapioka, Depends, and telling the "whippersnappers" about my spacetime ventures with Ronald and the Reaganauts!
Ya see, we use to put an ace of spades in our cap, cause that were the style at the time. But you could only use the ace after igniting your P-38 explosive space modulator, caps having been invented the previous winter...
Paint my chicken coop!
wonderwaffles:
Faces were made to be broken.