At the risk of never getting into any of your beds in the future...
My name is Michael and I snore. Big time. Embarrasingly so. And yet, it is quite impressive how I can generate a thunderous cadence that has the ability to move furniture across a well-kept carpet. It's partially hereditary - both my parents could represent Great Britain should the Olympic committee feel like introducing some outlandish new competitions. Now I am superceding them. I am the heir apparent with ample frame and everyone will hear my roar.
Like I said though, it's embarrassing. Especially when in the presence of others. When I recently stayed over at filthwizard's place, I was almost too scared to fall asleep for fear of the ensuing orchestral din. Her couch - deliciously unwashed and still baring the lingering, faint indentations of Gary Oldman's bony buttocks - was all too conducive for a good night's sleep. I gingerly slipped into dreamland on my front, but you cannot legislate for movements in the night. I woke up on my side, locked with paranoia that I had been snoring like a motherfucker for seven solid hours, keeping people awake. I'm sure I will become quite the anecdote; "Remember when Monkeyfunk came round..?" I will have finally achieved Legend status.
Even with the safe sanctity of the working men's Mess Room, I am prisoner to my paranoia of night-time foghorning. Last night, given the chance of a couple of hours sleep on a very slow night shift, I apologised in advance to co-worker Graham and got my head down. When I resurfaced, his first words to me were: "Do the words 'Gargling Drain' mean anything to you?" God, he's so funny. He said he was laughing so hard at my snoring that he amazed I hadn't woken up. Lovely.
The underbelly of my snoring has always had a lighter side. Kerry snores profusely too and we joked that, after a long lovemaking session or just the fatigues of the day, it was almost a race to fall asleep first, because the one left awake had a hard time following suit due to the cacophony emenating from our cavernous mouths. I usually deferred to Kerry. She invariably had work the next day. I would busy myself online and sleep during the day.. I'll admit that occasionally her snoring would drive me to the point where I almost screamed for her to roll onto her chest. Only one problem. Huge chest. Lovely chest, but huge. God knows what it will be like when we both have jobs.
Like I said though, it's embarrassing. Especially when in the presence of others. When I recently stayed over at filthwizard's place, I was almost too scared to fall asleep for fear of the ensuing orchestral din. Her couch - deliciously unwashed and still baring the lingering, faint indentations of Gary Oldman's bony buttocks - was all too conducive for a good night's sleep. I gingerly slipped into dreamland on my front, but you cannot legislate for movements in the night. I woke up on my side, locked with paranoia that I had been snoring like a motherfucker for seven solid hours, keeping people awake. I'm sure I will become quite the anecdote; "Remember when Monkeyfunk came round..?" I will have finally achieved Legend status.
Even with the safe sanctity of the working men's Mess Room, I am prisoner to my paranoia of night-time foghorning. Last night, given the chance of a couple of hours sleep on a very slow night shift, I apologised in advance to co-worker Graham and got my head down. When I resurfaced, his first words to me were: "Do the words 'Gargling Drain' mean anything to you?" God, he's so funny. He said he was laughing so hard at my snoring that he amazed I hadn't woken up. Lovely.
The underbelly of my snoring has always had a lighter side. Kerry snores profusely too and we joked that, after a long lovemaking session or just the fatigues of the day, it was almost a race to fall asleep first, because the one left awake had a hard time following suit due to the cacophony emenating from our cavernous mouths. I usually deferred to Kerry. She invariably had work the next day. I would busy myself online and sleep during the day.. I'll admit that occasionally her snoring would drive me to the point where I almost screamed for her to roll onto her chest. Only one problem. Huge chest. Lovely chest, but huge. God knows what it will be like when we both have jobs.