Sleepwalking
A friend of mine once cooked an entire meal for two in her sleep, ate the lot and washed-up before going back to bed.
She has also awoken to find herself naked, on a fire escape in Fulham, confronted by two burly - and not to mention excitable - officers of the Metropolitan Police.
She doesn't even live in Fulham.
( , Wed 22 Aug 2007, 22:21)
A friend of mine once cooked an entire meal for two in her sleep, ate the lot and washed-up before going back to bed.
She has also awoken to find herself naked, on a fire escape in Fulham, confronted by two burly - and not to mention excitable - officers of the Metropolitan Police.
She doesn't even live in Fulham.
( , Wed 22 Aug 2007, 22:21)
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Wedding night surprise
One of the most lovely guys I know is the spitting double for Family Guy. Not just having that burden to bear in his journey through life, he also sleepwalks when drunk.
On tour in Czechoslovakia with our soccer team he set about drinking himself into a stupor. Leaving the assembled pals to go to bed at 3am, by 5am he found himself in the hotel lobby, naked at the reception desk banging on the table top demanding a taxi to take him back to Vienna (where he was a career diplomat). The giggling girl and male receptionist were enough to wake him and realising his embarrassment he looked around and grabbed the only thing he could to give him some dignity. An A6 Amex promotion postcard was his chosen figleaf. Apparently with some space to spare.
The next day it was clear he hadn't just turned up at reception but had peed in every stairwell all the way down from the 5th floor as well as in his briefcase and over his cell fone in his bedroom. The fone didn't work anymore it was so badly soaked. No doubt some primevial desire to mark his territory whereever he was.
We all travelled together the next day in a Eastern European train to his home in Austria where we were to stay a few nights - the faint smell of urine from his bag was cloying in the heat and a reminder to him and us of his antics. After hours of teasing he made us all swear we would not tell his wife when we met her what he'd done.
As if. Over weiner schnizel's the size of elephant lungs, we chatted with his charming spouse until it was time for him to go for a pee and the inevitable joke at his expense. His wife immediately sussed what we were going on about - clearly a long-suffering victim of his nightly walkabouts. After giving him hell for a few minutes - and did she give him hell - she turned to us and confessed that on his wedding night he'd got so pissed that she had woken up and found him peeing on her leg from the side of the bed. His excuse was he thought she was an urinal.
Poor bastard. He's only not called "pisshead" because he's ginger and there's better nicknames for the bugger.
( , Mon 27 Aug 2007, 18:19, Reply)
One of the most lovely guys I know is the spitting double for Family Guy. Not just having that burden to bear in his journey through life, he also sleepwalks when drunk.
On tour in Czechoslovakia with our soccer team he set about drinking himself into a stupor. Leaving the assembled pals to go to bed at 3am, by 5am he found himself in the hotel lobby, naked at the reception desk banging on the table top demanding a taxi to take him back to Vienna (where he was a career diplomat). The giggling girl and male receptionist were enough to wake him and realising his embarrassment he looked around and grabbed the only thing he could to give him some dignity. An A6 Amex promotion postcard was his chosen figleaf. Apparently with some space to spare.
The next day it was clear he hadn't just turned up at reception but had peed in every stairwell all the way down from the 5th floor as well as in his briefcase and over his cell fone in his bedroom. The fone didn't work anymore it was so badly soaked. No doubt some primevial desire to mark his territory whereever he was.
We all travelled together the next day in a Eastern European train to his home in Austria where we were to stay a few nights - the faint smell of urine from his bag was cloying in the heat and a reminder to him and us of his antics. After hours of teasing he made us all swear we would not tell his wife when we met her what he'd done.
As if. Over weiner schnizel's the size of elephant lungs, we chatted with his charming spouse until it was time for him to go for a pee and the inevitable joke at his expense. His wife immediately sussed what we were going on about - clearly a long-suffering victim of his nightly walkabouts. After giving him hell for a few minutes - and did she give him hell - she turned to us and confessed that on his wedding night he'd got so pissed that she had woken up and found him peeing on her leg from the side of the bed. His excuse was he thought she was an urinal.
Poor bastard. He's only not called "pisshead" because he's ginger and there's better nicknames for the bugger.
( , Mon 27 Aug 2007, 18:19, Reply)
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