Got a great one
I woke up to hear some stranger noises coming from downstairs at an old girlfriend's place.

I went halfway down the stairs to find her mum, naked and grunting whilst doing a perfect front breast stroke up the stairs with toilet paper sticking out her arse.

I ran upstairs and was laughing so hard it took me minutes to say whats happenening to then girlfriend.

I get up to go and have another look with girlfriend in tow to then open the door and see that she's now reached the top, doing a swimming front crawl, get up, turn into her room with a tail of toilet paper still trailing out her crack and close the door.

The next morning at breakfast she said that she had a dream she was swimming up a waterfall to get to work and woke up with friction burns on her bristols. We never told her what she actually did.
( Donkey Gums @mattcomedy, Thu 23 Aug 2007, 11:47, Reply)

Could I love a desk?
God knows why but I recently woke up in the middle of the night, awoke the Mrs and declared 'Don't worry dear - you're not a desk'. Suffice to say she was completely bemused so I patted her on the head patronisingly, shook my head and went back to sleep.

The following morning I was unsurprisingly quizzed about DeskGate and I managed to recall how I'd had a dream where she was worried that she might be a desk, and I saw fit to wake her and put her mind at rest.

Later in the day she did what a lot of women did and started addling my brain with ridiculous questions. I received a text message that simply read "Would you still love me if I was a desk?". Clearly seeking some kind of reassurance, I gathered my thoughts, considered the best way to put her at ease and replied "I'd still want to look in your drawers". We're still together, surprisingly.
(titusyouclown, Fri 24 Aug 2007, 9:36, Reply)

i'm sorry but it had to be done...
thank fuck i am no longer going out with my ex, a violent loathsome individual and all round nasty and alcoholic waste of space. with a terrible snoring disorder.

so we were lying on the bed a while ago and he was asleep. i was pretty much dressed as it was about 4am and was trying to be bothered to get up and go home. suddenly he let rip with the most god almighty fart known to man. this did not amuse me. the smell was indescribable and, worst of all, it was such an offensive fart that he had woken himself up. never a good sign.

shaking his head and looking blearily around, he jumped off the bed and shot into the bathroom. within seconds, i heard the attractive sound of snoring coming from the toilet. nice.

but after a moment i realised that the smell was still lingering. peeling open my own bloodshot eyes, i noticed the dark stain on the sheets right. next. to. my. fucking. head. a leopard with curry up its ass couldn't have moved that quickly. i jumped up and finished getting dressed. the dirty bastard had skidded on the sheets. it was all over. and i don't just mean all over the sheets.

or was it? i couldn't find my right boot. eventually, as the snoring from the bathroom increased in crescendo, i turned the light on. and nearly barfed and fainted. he had not just followed through but had actually curled out an entire "richard the third". there it sat, coiled on the bed, looking at me. jesus. had he been facing the other way, the foul animal would have shat on ME!

i turned the light off, ran out, jumped in my car and fled home. i was so traumatised i had to wake my flatmate. she laughed herself silly. then she sat up.

"you turned the light off?"

"yes."

"so he would have woken up on the toilet... decided it was time to go back to bed... got back in it in the dark..."

that sentence should NEVER be finished.

apologies for length, it's as therapeutic now as it was the first time i posted this....
( rachelswipe with a fork, Thu 23 Aug 2007, 11:17, Reply)

Repost from "housemates from hell" QOTW
I sleepwalk. A bit. Normally it's not much of a problem, I'll find myself waking up wandering around the house in the middle of the night needing a wee or something to eat, so I’ll go to the bog or the fridge, get back to bed and that’s that.

Very occasionally there may be a minor indiscretion, such as the time I walked into my girlfriend’s sister’s bedroom as she was on the job with some fella and tried to get into bed with them, but generally people understand when I explain the score and accept it in good humour and without thinking there’s anything sinister about it.

Except for this one girl.

Poor lass. She moved into a shared house I was living in, and for some reason, whatever part of my brain was in charge of sleepwalking just seemed to have it in for her. I had absolutely no idea why. She was nice. But she certainly didn’t think I was.

I didn’t tell her that I sleepwalk when she moved in; I just didn’t think to do so as it’s so rarely an issue. So when after a few days I came to notice that she was being strangely frosty towards me, I couldn’t work out why - until word got back to me that I’d wandered into her bedroom in the middle of the night and stood glaring at her for a few minutes, freaking her out somewhat. When I found out I did my best to explain and make light of it, however it was clear that whereas I was able to find some humour in the situation, she clearly was not.

A few nights after that I woke up suddenly to find myself confronted by her. She was a little bit cross, enquiring as to what the fuck I thought I was doing, and suggesting I get the fuck out of her room - which indeed I was stood in. With a spoon in my hand. I apologised as best I could and made my way back to my own bed in a state of embarrassment and mild confusion.

I didn’t know anything about the next time until the morning after, when she had a right old go at me for barging into her room, tipping the contents of her chest of drawers all over the floor then walking out again. She called me all the names under the sun and at one point threatened to do me physical harm if it happened again. I tried to reassure her it wouldn’t, but I’m not sure she was convinced - she kept using words like “bullshit", “fucking freak” and “pervert”.

A week or so later I was rudely awoken by a shoe being thrown into my face at high velocity accompanied by a volley of very high pitched screaming. If I’m honest I can probably understand why, seeing as I was stark naked and standing next to her open wardrobe that was making a distinct dripping noise and smelt suspiciously of fresh piss. And, to be fair, I certainly did seem to be languidly wanking my flaccid cock at her.

She moved out.
.
(Ali Bongo 9000 Ali Bongo 9000, Thu 23 Aug 2007, 9:10, Reply)

My cousin
Whilst fast asleep, got out of his bed, walked down the hall and then down the stairs, opened the front door, walked down the road about 500 yards, opened the front door of a house (small country town, no one locked their doors), walked down the hall, entered the master bedroom and climbed into bed with a random couple.

He awoke in the morning at the same time as this woman who had her arms around him.

“You’re not my mum.”
“You’re not my son.”

And then they both started screaming. He gets up and pegs it out of the room but being a house he’d never been in before he couldn’t find the way out. He was running from room to room trying to find the front door whilst this woman kept screaming hysterically.

Eventually he made it out but he was pretty traumatised after that and found it very hard to sleep for weeks after.
(Creamy Discharge Freeze Motherstickers, this is a fuck up, Thu 23 Aug 2007, 5:21, Reply)

Reach for the stars!
According to my girlfriend, one night, whilst I was on some pretty strong prescription medication I kept my right arm pointed straight up in the air for an hour.
She hung a sock on my thumb.
( P45 Sent by my Bosch 509e in the year 2000, Thu 23 Aug 2007, 4:43, Reply)

not sure if this counts.
I was 13 at the time and desperately horny (of course). My very first girlfriend, who was a game girl, had suggested going skinny dipping in the canal at night. I duly set my alarm for 3am, crept out and walked down the lane to her house. Of course, she didn't wake up and I spent a fruitless 10 minutes throwing pebbles at her bedroom window, hoping not to wake her parents.

Disheartened, I started to walk home. Suddenly I saw car headlights approaching so I hid, and was shocked to see my Dad drive past. It suddenly occurred to me that I'd only hit snooze on my alarm. "SHIATTT!".

I started running, knowing he had to get to the end of the lane to turn around. It was hopeless. I'd never make it. Only one option.
Limp hands outstretched in front of me, I started the cartoon-zombie type walk of the sleep walker.

He fell for it. He pulled up and gently ushered me into the car, drove me home and gave me sweet tea til my ears bled.
I fessed up a few years ago.
(Redbull_(UK) pfffft, Fri 24 Aug 2007, 12:33, Reply)

A few years ago
I lived in a shared house with three gorgeous girls (except Sam, who had the Beadle hand). One of them, a very posh, 'Jolly hockeysticks!' type called Beth informed me that in her previous house she'd been reknowned for sleep walking, naked.
This, I have to admit, I was looking forward to.

Sure enough, a few weeks later she turned up in my room completely starkers.

Though you'd think that if a person knew they were prone to nude sleepwalking, they'd at least trim their pubes.
( Bert Monkeysex is waiting for the mods to delete him, Thu 23 Aug 2007, 9:23, Reply)

I was working at Paddington Green Police Station Many Years Ago
We detained a young repeat offender for TWOCing a car in the area.

We booked him in, put him in the cells for the night, but blow me down if he didnt start sleepwalking.

With my own eyes I saw him unlock his cell door from the inside, come out, punch himself 3 or 4 times in the stomach, then trip down the stairs to the custody officers desk, before repeatedly slamming his own face in to the desk breaking his nose and jawbone.

All this in his sleep, mark you - well that's what we told the NCIS blokes when they came to investigate it.

Evening All.
(LunarJim, Thu 23 Aug 2007, 12:11, Reply)

My mother had a trick to keep me from wetting the bed
She would wake me in the middle of the night, stand me in front of the toilet and tell me to go. I would go, she's put me back in bed and that would be that. It worked brilliantly, and I never once wet the bed.

I did, however, wet a pew.

It was a full catholic wedding ceremony, little four-year-old me dressed in a darling little tuxedo, sleeping like a lamb through the second half of the mass. Then it came time for everybody to stand up, so my dear mother picked me up, stood me up, and in a pavlovian reaction I fulfilled my part of our nightly ritual.

If you've ever seen a woman run out of a cathedral while holding a sleeping toddler in a tuxedo with his penis in his hands, it was me. If you've ever gotten a face full of pee from a toddler in a tuxedo being held by his mother as she runs past your pew, hello Aunt Linda!
(RandomFerret, Fri 24 Aug 2007, 16:19, Reply)

The Horrors
Oh the horrors of sleepwalking

ever since i started secondary school i've sleepwalked, its linked to how stressed i am.

I've woken up down the shops,at other freinds houses, once on the roof, in the bath, in the hottub, at work, at an ex's house (explain that one)

when i was 16, i was dating a pretty 15 year old lass, and i used to stay over about 2 nights a week (and she would stay at mine 2-3 a week)

one night i woke up and started to have sex with her in my sleep (its happened dozens of times, i lost count at 30ish) not usually a problem , as she was used to it.

there was one catch..

Her, her sister, and her mum shared a room for 6 months, fucksocks.

Oh no, it gets worse

I then went on to slip into the (Older!) sisters bed, and carry on. yup

Older sister didnt mind, girlfreind did

woke me up mid act-never, EVER wake a sleepwalker

most sleepwalkers become violent, i have panic attacks, not the petty small ones where you need to rest for 15 mins, no more the blue lips, passing out kind, i've "Died" twice thanks to these panics

que the mother waking up and having to give mouth-mouth

Yup, Shagged two sisters and "pulled" the mom in the same night.

never mentioned it again.

i have 3 coursework assignments due in in 12 hours time, and i havent started yet, who wants to bet i'll sleepwalk tonight?
(tainek, Thu 23 Aug 2007, 22:50, Reply)

Sleep Clubbing
Don't know if this was sleepwalking or some very strange illness I had that made me do this. Anyhow;

It happened about 10 years ago.
I was feeling really ill one Friday night. So at around 8pm I went to bed.
Woke sometime Saturday afternoon.
All seemed normal.

When I went into Uni on the Monday I was informed by several people that I'd been out clubbing with them on Friday night, kicked a Motorscooter-thingy over (complete with rider ...bonus points?) and was so paralytic I had to be bundled into a taxi and sent home sometime in the early hours of Saturday.

I was asleep! I hate nightclubs! I've never had a fight with anyone in my life!
I don't particularly like scooters, true, but I've never lashed out at one before!

Evil Clone? Mistaken Identity?

No.

I was told I took my jeans off in the course of the evening (as you do), and showed off my tattoo, which is not in a place I'd normally be showing to people I didn't know intimately.

I told them it couldn't have been me, and that I didn't have any tattoos down there. Somehow I don't think they believed me.
( BUTT FART is currently addicted to Improbable Island, Thu 23 Aug 2007, 0:18, Reply)

‮I talk backwards in my sleep ‮
(THIRTY-TWO - Sputnik -, Mon 27 Aug 2007, 15:52, Reply)

sleepwalking yes but may have been induced by mind altering substances
When I was in my late teens, went to a party one Saturday night, about 10 km from where I was living. The previous 72 hours I had had no sleep (work 12 hr shifts + going out). After being at the party for 6 hours i was pretty knackered and kept dropping off. A lovely lady who I had worked with offered me some white powder saying "snort this and you won't feel tired". Being no stranger to the joys of speeding, I had no hesitation in doing what she asked. That is all I remember until the following Tuesday morning. I woke up fully dressed but with all my clothes on inside out, no shoes, socks that had no feet in them (+ very sore and cut feet)and a garbage bag that contained 800 cigarettes, 10 copies of the local Sunday paper and 2 large pizzas. I checked my wallet, found that I had about $65 more than I started out with.
Where I woke up was the strange part though, on a jetty in a little fishing village, 260 km from home.
(wallynothere rnot without protection, Thu 23 Aug 2007, 10:29, Reply)

Gasp o' delight!
Indeed I have several stories for this question, and I shall save the best for last.

I'll start with my mother, who is partial to falling asleep in the middle of a conversation, while still continuing it.

I was once sat on her bed as she dozed, telling her of my worries about something to do with my boyfriend, and got the wonderful advice:

"Pull his ears."

What?

"Pull his ears! To stop the elves."

As lovely as that was, I didn't try it and instead left her to sleep.

She often wakes up in the middle of the night to hold similarly nonsensical conversations with my poor unsuspecting and befuddled dad.
( vix0r was not Matthew on, Wed 22 Aug 2007, 23:54, Reply)

Sleepwalking - Ooohhh.. What does it mean?
When I was 12 I arrived in my parents bedroom at mid-night to, excitedly, tell them that I'd just had sex with a young woman called Rachel in the back of a Volkswagen Beetle and that I had, in fact, 'pumped the fucking arse off her until she was red-raw'. I hadn't really (I wish), at that time I knew no-one of that name, had no interest in cars and certainly wasn't that rude.

On one morning when I was 13 my mum found me sleeping halfway up/down the staircase with full mattress, pillow and duvet. This continued to happen most nights, without my knowledge, until I was 18.

At 18 my mum awoke at 2am to discover me in the toilet, pissing against the pedestal and all over the bathroom floor, when I'd finished I did casually turn, complete with piss-soaked feet, flush the (unused) toilet, wash my hands and return to bed.

Years later, picture the scene, I'm lying in bed with Mrs. Haggisbreeder, I sit up and start to 'eat' something. She (also sleep cognitive) says: What are you eating?
Me: Nothing! Go back to sleep, it's nothing, honest.
Her: Yes you are! What is it?
Me: Pizza (imaginary)
Her: Can I have a bit?
Me: Shhhh, just go back to sleep..
Her: Oh, go on..
Me: No you can't have any, now fuck off and go back to sleep.

I finished the lot myself, selfish bastard that I am.

The same thing has happened with mince and tatties a few times since then and also with haggis and neeps.

I've always been a sleep walker, recently Mrs Haggisbreeder woke at 2am to find me up against the bedroom window 'giving birth' to some aliens who were being 'delivered' thru the window (Honestly, I don't do drugs). I successfully delivered them all without incident, like a hero, and all the alien survivors and their remote families really appreciated that.

One night, about 2 years ago, when I was working away from home and stayed in a little hotel with some co-workers, I used my bed as a toilet. It was embarrassing and everyone really took the piss out of me. The following evening, I had learned my lesson, I would never again piss my own bed, so I crept into my bosses room and used his bed / pillow instead. How many people get to piss on their boss and use sleepwalking as an excuse?
I still grin (BIG) everytime I think 'I urinated all over that thick cunt'!
I continue to regularly sleepwalk, in-fact I'm actually sleep-writing this and probably won't remember anything about it.

P.S.

I'd just like to give you all a big 'Woo' and a clicky slice of 'YaY' for the sheer cuntyfucks of it.
(Haggisbreeder Was talking when he should have been listening on, Sat 25 Aug 2007, 22:04, Reply)

Bolivian coup sleepwalk
When I was 16, I went through a period of sleepwalking and doing strange things. On one occasion, I made a model of the Cutty Sark out of toothpicks. On another, I painted a replica of the Sistine Chapel frescoes on my bedroom ceiling using my own ordure. Neither of these were particularly odd when compared to the oddest occasion.

On 11 October 1988, I got up in the night, got dressed, walked to the train station and caught a late train to London. Here, I used my dad's credit card to book a flight to Bolivia. Still sleeping, I boarded the flight and enjoyed the in-fight meal.

On arrival, I set up an anti-government political group and became a rebel figurehead in a very short time. Within weeks, I was on the verge of a landslide election victory. That's when my family saw me on TV - still wearing my pajamas (which had become a cult uniform for my Bolivian followers). They flew out to get me, but this caused riots in the streets and martial war was declared.

Finally, my mother used the old trick of holding a phial of chlorine gas under my nose and I awoke, utterly bemused, amid the screaming crowds.

OK. That's made up. I pissed in the wardrobe
(frankspencer, Wed 29 Aug 2007, 9:59, Reply)

Sleepwa*king
Kind of off topic, mildly embarressing, but here goes...

As a young man, experiencing strange urges and sprouting hairs, I used to suffer from those pleasureable nocturnal emissions that visit teenage boys during sleep. Whilst not unpleasant, they did make the bedsheets go somewhat crunchy so, as a concerted effort to save the sheets, I would place my thumb over the end to prevent the fluid of shame going everywhere as I awoke, then get up and run to the toilet to release it safely.

Fast forward several years to university. I had managed to pull a delightful young lady who, upon awaking, thought it a wizard wheeze to wake me up by (rather expertly) fellating me. Unfortunately, as I came, I was transported to my earlier days. Cue much hilarity as I punched her spark out as I quickly moved my hand down to stop anything coming out of the end and going on the sheets.

Thankyouverymuch
(animal252 last activated his kitten hammer on, Sun 26 Aug 2007, 21:24, Reply)

Writing your name in the snow
The number of stories about peeing in wardrobes being related here is startling. It’s a bloody epidemic. Indeed it seems to be so common an occurrence that I’m amazed Mr Tumnus was not described on his first appearance as ‘dripping wet and reeking of piss’.

If anyone from Ikea reads the messageboards then I imagine in a few months time their range of bedroom furniture will include the ‘Piskabinet’, a wardrobe with a pressure sensor on the floor that, on sensing the presence of an unconscious inebriated loon stepping onto it, opens a compartment containing a galvanised bucket with an inch of bleach in the bottom.

It’s bad enough when you pee in your own wardrobe but a lot of the stories seem to be about peeing in the wardrobes of others. Actually, given a choice this seems to be a sensible option but it does mean that there may also be a market for the Piskabinetdelux which, on sensing moisture on the floor of the wardrobe, opens the trapdoor to the crocodile pit. The only problem with this approach is the health and safety loops through which you have to jump to get planning permission for a crocodile pit these days.

A friend of mine has actually peed in a wardrobe. In his defence he was drunk and asleep at the time (can you be drunk and asleep?). He was in his very-soon-to-be-ex girlfriend’s bedroom. Actually I think the episode may have started the countdown clock on her ex status. Maybe he was trying to engineer a break-up and this was a cry for help - although I would have thought that the actual cry for help was made when he came to standing upright in a wooden box in the pitch darkness up to his ankles in urine.

God knows it could be worse, you could wake up in a wardrobe your unconscious mind thought was a cubical, in a crouching position, reaching for the loo roll and wondering where the hell that vile smell is coming from.
(Macnabbs may contain traces of exaggeration on, Fri 24 Aug 2007, 14:17, Reply)

more of a lack of sleep.......
when my oldest daugter was a newborn and therefore still waking every few hours to eat, i was just a bit tired. the ex mr badgers couldn't be bothered to actually take one of the feedings......he reasoned that i was off work for several months so could nap later......(like that is going to happen with a baby in the house).

i quickly discovered that i only had to be awake enough to stumble off to the kitchen and make a bottle.........i would then sit in a large chair where i could feed the baby (yes in the proper upright position) while dozing............

there were many night-time feedings that i flat out didn't remember because i dozed through the whole thing.......

i realized it was time to either ship the kid off to grandmother so i could get some real sleep or start waking fully after one interesting incident.......

i woke thinking the baby wanted a bottle, made one, and by the time i got back to her crib i found she was still asleep. my next step was to set the bottle on the nightstand and gratefully crawl back in bed. i couldn't have been asleep for more than a few minutes when the interesting bit happened.......

apparently the cat jumpped on the bed to get some sleep as well because i woke up holding the cat like a baby while trying to stuff a bottle in the poor cat's mouth! i couldn't understand why the baby didn't want the bottle and seemed to be a lot more furry than i remembered....


for some odd reason, the cat didn't want to sleep on the bed again for quite a while.
( flirting with badgers What? It sounded good at the time., Fri 24 Aug 2007, 7:59, Reply)

Naked man love
Bless my husband and his sleepy comedy antics. He generally tends to stick to talking in his sleep - examples include:

Sleeping Husband: Bodie and Doyle.
Awake Me: Who are Bodie and Doyle?
Him: The Professionals.
Me: Why are you talking about the Professionals?
Him: Well you bought up TV Detectives (turns over in a strop)

Sleeping Husband: I'm going for a 70s wee.
Awake Me: What's a 70s wee?
Him: A wee with flares on.

But I digress. This is about sleepwalking.

One night, he and I had been out drinking and clubbing with my brother. Somehow we'd ended up in an altercation with bunch of idiots (obviously any offence could not possible have been caused by us!?) and my brother had taken a pasting. We waited for a cab, my brother bleeding and passing out periodically, got home (to the house my bro and I shared at the time), and I (being the most mum-like out of the three of us) bathed his face wounds and put him to bed. As husband and I turned in, I suggested that, should hubby get up in the night for a piss or whatever, he should check on bro, make sure he hadn't choked on his own vomit or something. I was apparently taken at my word.

I was awoken later in the night by a furious brother insisting that I come and retrieve my man - apparently my still sleeping husband had gone in to check on him, and just to make sure all was well, had popped into bed next to him. Stark bollock naked. I was assured that no "rubbing" had taken place.

Click "I like this" if I should be asking more difficult questions of both of them...
(Vernie, Thu 23 Aug 2007, 17:55, Reply)

Again not sleep walking but.................
I farted so loudly in my sleep that I woke Mr Liveinabin up.
But I didn't apologise for my unladylike behaviour, no I (still asleep) informed him to 'get your dinner out of that'.
( Mrs Entity is in hiding., Thu 23 Aug 2007, 13:46, Reply)

When I was younger...
There was a pack of ten or so of us sleeping in someone's living room after much booze.

Well; some were sleeping, a few of us were playing one of those hand destroying button-bashing Olympics style game on the playstation. Anyway.

Mid game, one of the sleepers suddenly sits bolt upright and screams, at the top of his lungs, "POUND OF APPLES. POUND OF APPLES. WALKING DOWN THE STREET WITH HER KNICKERS 'ROUND HER ANKLES."

There was silence, as we all stared at him.

Then; "Fucking hell," said he, as he lay down and slept again.
( gone, Thu 23 Aug 2007, 13:15, Reply)

THEY'RE GONNA TASTE GREAT
THEY'RE GONNA TASTE GREAT
THEY'RE GONNA TASTE GREAT
THEY'RE GONNA TASTE GREAT
THEY'RE GONNA TASTE GREAT
THEY'RE GONNA TASTE GREAT
THEY'RE GONNA TASTE GREAT

How the fuck do you make yourself understand whats been going on when you wake up yourself by saying that?
(no friends Tasting your cake., Thu 23 Aug 2007, 2:13, Reply)

Tips for bored insomniacs
An ex of mine surprised me one night by suddenly leaping out of bed then dragging me out too, while shouting that we had to get out of the way of the avalanche. Although I had a splinter in my arse (from being dragged naked onto my classy bare floorboards), I thought it was rather sweet that even while fast asleep, he'd gone back to save me from the avalanche. Being of a sweet disposition myself, I didn't complain, but thanked him for rescuing me.

Being of an insomniac disposition, I kept an eye and ear out for future sleep-walking and -talking, and engaged him in conversation when I could. It was fascinating. I found out that he would sometimes remember things I had said to him while asleep, but would think it was a character from the dream that had said them, rather than me.

Unfortunately, he turned out to be a complete twat. Between realising this and getting my act together to end it, I started experimenting with planting ideas in his head. Nothing too sinister... First maybe tickling him and whispering that there were aliens crawling over him (jumped in the air and screamed like a goddam girl). Then telling him there was a flood and we had to run and get on the 'boat' (his absent flatmate's desk - got a photo of him sitting on it, naked and clinging onto the anglepoise for dear life). I suppose the time he stuck his knob in my hand - while fast asleep after a blazing row, no less - and I made him think his stepdad was giving him hand relief was perhaps a bit mean. But believe me, he was a cheating twat, and the face he made when he woke up and remembered...
(Turangalila, Tue 28 Aug 2007, 0:54, Reply)

Not Exactly Sleepwalking
But...

I used to read lots and lots about metaphysical bollocks and would frequently test out the various ideas. One thing I read in some book about a Mexican indian sage (something to do with peyote) was that you could close your eyes and run very fast through the countryside and your inner self would automatically guide you away from harm.

Any idea how much it hurts when you run full tilt into a fucking oak tree with your eyes shut? - I do.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Thu 23 Aug 2007, 14:46, Reply)

Parental Sleepwalking
My dad (admittedly after a few too many glasses of red wine) arose from bed and made his way into the fitted wardrobe. My Mum woke and asked what he was doing, the reply was that he was going to the toilet.

Mum managed to point out that it was the wrong door.

So he takes a few more paces and opens up the next door of the fitted wardrobe.

"Now where the bloody-hell d'ya think you're going?"

"Down the secret corridor that no-one knows about"

I think he made it eventually without mishap
(brocky, Thu 23 Aug 2007, 0:37, Reply)

I'm a student nurse
and i do blocks of hospital placements throughout the year. Towards the end of a placement, it starts to get into my and i find myself dreaming about patietns and hospitals.

One night during the penultimate week of my last placement, i came home from working a late shift. I was so tired i decided to just wade through the muck constitutes my bedroom floor and went to bed.

During the night i dreamt that a patient of mine was coming to visit me in my house and needed to stay in my room. In the dream i looked around my room and saw how messy it was and began o get it ready for another person to stay in there. The patient was also wheelchair bound so i began moving furniture to make room for the wheelchair. The job finsihed with me surveying my work proudly and going to sleep. No more dreams for the rest of the night.
Woke up in the morning feeling incredibly disorientated as the room was spotless and all the furniture had moved.

first post, please be nice.
(minsh, Tue 28 Aug 2007, 18:03, Reply)

Airline Fun
An ex of mine told me on many occasions about my fondness for shouting obscenities in my sleep. Not just swearing, but bellowing running commentaries on the wrongest, most degrading sex dreams that anyone could ever have. I think it used to worry her initially but after a while she found it quite funny.

Once, on my own on a flight between Australia and the UK I found myself being rudely awoken by a concerned looking stewardess.

"Are you alright?" she asks me.

"Well I was fine until you woke me up!" I replied, rather testily.

"Yes, sorry about that... We were just a little worried about you... You were, um... shouting."

At this point I look around the cabin to see about a hundred other passengers, mostly with their Qantas blindfolds pushed up on foreheads, staring daggers at me with looks ranging between shock, anger, genuine fear and repulsion.

"Um... what was I shouting?" I ask the stewardess sheepishly.

"Never mind... we just wanted to check you were ok."

I never did find out what filth I was screaming at my fellow passengers, but I think it's safe to say that it wasn't pleasant judging by the looks I got for the next 13 hours.
(fla383 hasn't taken his medication since, Mon 27 Aug 2007, 3:17, Reply)

Grey Lady Down
.
When I was student I sometimes worked as a security guard in a hospital (and, Christ, do I have a load of stories about *that* period in my life. I'll tell you about them sometimes..)

Anyway, it was a regular occurrence for my radio to crackle into life with:

"Grey Lady doing a runner - catch the bitch"

And I'd be off legging it up the road to catch some confused old biddy dressed in her nightie trotting up the road. Most of them were sleep-walking and could be easily led back to the ward but we'd occasionally get one who was actually making a break for freedom from "the dying place". Those old bastards used to actually fight you. It's not nice being gummed by an old bat trying to bite you without her teeth in.

One night I particularly remember because somebody must have mixed up the meds on the Geriatric ward because they were all fucking at it. It was like the Great Escape with all those doddering bastards making their breaks for freedom. As soon as you got one back in bed, another two would make a dash for it - one out of the door, another out of a window. I tell you, it was like trying to herd cats getting these crumbliest back to bed. In the end we had to keep a guard in the ward all night. He later told me it was like being trapped in Hell with the Chorus Of The Dammed - all these drugged up coffin-dodgers shrieking and cursing.

We never did find out what set them all off together.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Sat 25 Aug 2007, 10:58, Reply)