My friends…

You have not lived, truly lived, until you have driven through a neighborhood of multimillion dollar homes with a fellow Agent of SORP in a 1975 Cadillac Ambulance screaming the words to ‘Convoy’ over a state issued public address system with a cargo of Taco Bell.

 

That being said, take a look at this-

 

 

You know what this is? This is what happens at about 4 AM if your me. That’s Dr. Pepper with chunks of ice cream floating in it.

To make a long story short I have a sleep disorder that causes me to get up in the middle of night and seek out food, usually sweet things. It has led me to wake up in the middle of cutting mozzarella into razor thin slices, walking to 7-11 to buy chocolate, and once I woke up after a dream about eating some really shitty pancakes to discover I was trying to swallow a hand towel. The original story I wrote about me and this disorder is located here, http://66.34.10.12/sorpreturns/i_hit_myself_in_the_face_with_a_poptart.htm which for some reason was the first journal entry I ever wrote that had more than 2 responses. I remember that I had 9 people respond to it and was utterly impressed. Go read it if you need additional ranting today. At any rate, back to the issue at hand...

Before I go any further, let me assure you, I am not bullshitting you here folks. The disorder is real, I have Googled it just enough to know that it has a name, that I share it with Montel Williams (and that he actually padlocks his refrigerator shut to keep from eating in the middle of the night), but not enough to actually know the name. Name or no name, it doesn’t make a damned bit of difference when you start trying to eat your linens in the middle of the freaking night.

Well this round was probably the worst so far. It ended with me going back to my bedroom and having to change my shirt and pants. For those wondering, I sleep in my clothes because I have a fear of the house burning down and the neighbors seeing me in my Ghostbusters boxers, but that is neither here nor there. It all played out something like this-

Amber – “Uh…are you changing clothes in the middle of the night?”

Me – “No…wait…yes, but go back to bed”

Amber – “Why…what happened?”

Me – “Fucking nothing ok? Incidents happened. Never you mind”

Amber – “Why are your pants bubbling like that!?”

I didn’t even remember this until the next day when I saw the carnage in the kitchen. It had started out with me waking up to go get something to eat. I always look for something like candy first and then go to any food that is somewhat sweet. For example, cookies and chocolate are at the top, microwave pancakes below that, if nothing sweet, then I will eat ham cuz it’s sorta sweet. It’s like a reverse shitty food pyramid.

Well, it dawns on me that I have both Dr. Pepper AND vanilla ice cream. For some reason my sleep addled mind was telling me that I wasn’t in need of a water tight container to make a Dr. Pepper float at which point I proceeded to pour it directly into the carton. Well, this would have been a solid plan except for the fact that the ice cream was staying absolutely frozen to the bottom of the carton, so a normal midnight excursion to make a float was now a salvage mission to get the frozen ice creamy goodness below the Dr. Pepper, so I grabbed a steak knife, which for those of you who are not privy to my level of expertise on the subject is the perfect tool for melatonin influenced ice cream extraction.

Well the first thing that happened was I poked a hole clean through the bottom of the container so soda was now pouring onto the floor. Ever intrepid, I was not about to be deterred and forged ever onward trying to use the knife as a spoon. Well, as it turns out, bending a knife sideways to try to break up frozen dairy products causes sort of a catapult effect in which you are very likely to fling large chunks of very wet ice cream and soda at your head. This happened about 5 times before I decided to just try to drink directly from the container and ended up pouring the remaining contents on my shirt, after that it was all pretty much down hill.

Another interesting side effect is that I have really screwed up dreams as a result of the impending intestinal effects of eating ham and ice cream in the middle of the night. I actually had one about YOU! Yeppers! Not you in specific, but my LJ friends.

In my dream Amber bought a dog that was taking huge, monster craps all over the lawn. For some reason I thought it was a great idea to go get an icecream scoop and put all of it into little bowls as illustrated nya-

I even put little sprinkle on it and everything. When Amber came home and saw that I was making little ice cream dishes out of dog crap she asked me why in the hell I would be doing such a thing.

“This is the best part!” I tell her “I’m going to post them on my LJ and ask everyone if they look delicious. When everyone responds going ‘Mmm, mmm!’ and ‘Sure does, now I am hungry for chocolate ice cream!’ I am going to go ‘HAHAHA! You’re looking at bowls of shit SUCKERS! You’d all eat Orson Loaf! AHA!”

So yeah, feel flattered, I’m thinking of you all.

So there it is. More later this week, but I am down with the flu right now so my writing is not as usually acerbic as it normally is. Also, I am doing something new here. Every week when I post my current music there will be a link to an mp3 file, so you can listen along too! It’ll be like your really here with me as I bitch and rant! With the possible exception that after I post I have probably already moved on to masturbating to internet porn, but that’s besides the point, it’s the thought that freaking counts.
 

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