Some content on this page is not suitable for young eyes or faint hearts. Views expressed by Sleep Talkin' Man rarely reflect the opinions of waking Adam. Especially the desire to exterminate all vegetarians (but he does hate lentils.)
Karen's notes: Hmmm.... Perhaps this is the puppy that Adam was talking about?
Shameless merch plug: So many of you asked for "If your husband clucks like a chicken, call 9-9-9" shirts, I'm rushing them into the shops. Look for them later today. And yes, as requested, I am making a 9-1-1 version as well for you Americans out there.
By this time, I'd already been awake for a while with insomnia, so I got up to go to the bathroom. As I shifted out of bed, Adam chimed in with:
"It's moving. You can hear it. Ooooh. It's big 'un! It's a big 'un. We're gonna have to use two mallets on this one. Take out its knees! No, won't be doing that again in a hurry."
STM: MINGE MUNCHER!
ADAM: Ooh… I daresay, that could have been embarrassing. Was it?
KAREN: (laughing) Do you know what you yelled?
ADAM: Umm, I’ve got a horrible suspicion it was nothing I could repeat to my mother? (Karen laughs) Oh, fuck. (more laughing) What was it?
KAREN: Um… Minge muncher?
ADAM: Hmm… My head hurts. Did I bang it?
KAREN: No. No.
ADAM: Mmm. Makes a change.
KAREN: You also clucked like a chicken. Twice.
ADAM: Excuse me? I did what?
KAREN: BaGawk!
ADAM: You-- You misheard.
KAREN: BaGawk!
ADAM: You must have misheard.
KAREN: Nope. What could I possibly mistake that for?
ADAM: Having a stroke? Maybe I was having a stroke, I don’t know!
KAREN: Oh Baby, you were having a stroke and I didn’t do anything!
ADAM: I was clucking like a chicken, for fuck’s sake! I think that’s the warning sign you should wake me up. I’m sorry, when your husband starts clucking like a chicken in bed, call 9-9-9! It’s not healthy.
I was awake before Adam, hoping he would start talking, and I was killing time snuggling with Molly the little doggie. When Adam opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the two of us staring at him expectantly. I think he got a bit creeped out. Poor thing.
"Ho ch-... Ho chee... Ho chee na na na na na... na na na na... Yeaaaaaah, fuck yeah! Oh boy am I glad I got that off my chest... I feel so better now."
Karen's notes: About these wall rumblers - There is some sort of little creature who has made a home underneath our flat (we're on the ground floor), and we sometimes hear it scratching around on the ground beneath our bed. Now, that was happening last night, but it had stopped about 5 minutes before Adam said this. A bit slow on the uptake, my husband.
Irrelevant anecdote: That last one reminds me of the Halloween party we went to last year. The costume competition was titled "Britain's Got Talons". Get it? (and Adam tied for first place with his brilliant Ghostbuster ensemble, constructed from workman's coveralls, a cardboard box, his children's night-light, and parts of our vacuum cleaner.)
Added later: There have been a few requests for a picture of the Halloween costume. I don't think you can tell how utterly brilliant it was from this pic, but here it is:
"Where are all the sleep sheep? Everyone's got a sleep sheep. My sleep sheep's not here. Oh. How am I meant to sleep without my sleep sheep? Sleep sheeeeeep... Wait, you've got two, you bastard! I'm taking that one. He's so soft. Ah, sleep sheep. Don't leave me again. Baaaaaaahhhh."
Karen's notes: Adam must have been tired out from him amazing performance on Tuesday night (this one is from that night, and there were even more!). It was either that, or all the celebrating yesterday afternoon. (Oh, yeah, for those of you in the US, there was an important "soccer" game yesterday. Spoiler alert: we both won.)
Anyway, I LOVE the emotional roller-coaster that is "sleep sheep". First he's utterly self-pitying, then angrily indignant, and finally he finds peaceful contentment. Baaaaahhhhhh indeed.
Merch update: I confess I could NOT resist making a t-shirt of "Captain Bollocks of the Good Ship Scrotum."
Shameless and irrelevant advice solicitation: Speaking of ships, anyone know an affordable option for hiring a boat for the Norfolk Broads in September?
"You take one of those knitting needles and put 'em in my neck once more, I'm gonna see to it that every time you blink, you're gonna be looking at your own rectum. Got it?"
Note: Adam has a tweaked nerve in his neck right now.
"(singing) I'm gonna be the captain, I'm gonna be in charge. I'm gonna be the captain, I'm gonna be-... You can fuck off to the back and sulk there. (singing again) I'm gonna be the captain, I'm gonna be in charge.... Captain Bollocks! I shall be Captain Bollocks. On the good ship Scrotum. It's a small boat, but it'll pack a punch. We'll be able seamen in our boat, Scrotum."
ADAM: My neck hurts Baby. Baby, are you awake?
KAREN: Are- are you awake?
ADAM: Yeah.
KAREN: Captain Bollocks of the good ship Scrotum? (laughs) (...pause...)
ADAM: Well it works.
KAREN: I leaned up to pet Molly for a minute and I came back down and you said, "Where are you going? Oh, you're not going anywhere." And then you, like, you patted me and you went, "Good cow."
ADAM: Oh Baby, I didn't call you a cow!
KAREN: "Good cow"
ADAM: No, I didn't call you a cow! For the record- this is not for your benefit but for anybody, obviously, who's going to suggest that I was thinking about you-
KAREN: Uh-huh?
ADAM: You're not a cow.
KAREN: Thank you.
ADAM: Although, cows do have pretty eyes.
KAREN: (laughing) Oh, thank you!
ADAM: Well, you know, they've got long eyelashes and, when they're calves they're quite cute. But I don't think of you as a cow.
KAREN: Thank you.
ADAM: Or any kind of heifer-like animal.
KAREN: Thank you.
ADAM: Yes. It's fine. Really.
Added later: There is a fascinating discussion brewing in the comments about this word, "auraphile." I'm pretty sure Adam made it up. That is, it might actually exist and have a meaning, but none that he already knew. I guessing that he was punning on "pedophile" (i.e., love of, and therefore abuse of... well, ears, in this case).
Karen's notes: Okay, this is a singlet. I have no idea how the combo of shower cap and something like this amounts to "naked native," but I am am enormously amused imagining Adam in such an ensemble.
Too bad our shirt shop doesn't carry singlets!
On an entirely different note, we were listening to Tom Waits' "What's He Building in There" yesterday, and Adam's 6-year-old daughter decided that it sounded just like Adam sleep talking. I can't quite say I'm in agreement (accent?!), but I guess it does speak to the utter creepiness of Adam's midnight musings.
"Where are we going? I want to know where you're taking me. It's all fun not knowing, but now I'm bored, so FUCKING TELL ME WHERE ARE WE GOING! ... Ooh, I've never been there before! I hope it's good."
Karen's notes: Ok, that's a bit more like it. Note to self: angry Adam = silent Adam.
This supports my theory that happiness is the source of Adam's sleep talking. I know it's counter-intuitive, given the usual content of his mutterings, but Adam only started sleep talking after he and I got together (neither his parents nor his ex-wife ever heard him talk). And the more settled our life became (we had a lot of very difficult things to contend with for a while-- visa issues, unemployment, and other nasty stuff) the more and more he talked. And now that we have this lovely life together with our adorable doggie in our delightful neighborhood, and Adam has a job he loves, he chatters his head off.
Karen's notes: Quiet night again, so these are from the nestegg.
Adam was a bit angry at me about something the last couple of days, I wonder if his subconscious was keeping quiet to punish me. Well, he's over it now, all is love again, so maybe we'll have a fruitful weekend to make up for it.
Karen's notes: Nothing last night. These are leftovers from yesterday.
Added later: A few people have pointed out that there was a band in the 80's called Kajagoogoo. Perhaps that is what Adam is talking about, although I don't know how "cow-cow" figures in.
(in response to the little dog we're taking care of lick-lick-licking herself) "What's the tip-top tapping? No more. No more. If it does it again I'll BREAK ITS FUCKING NECK! ... Nope, it's not doing it anymore."
(in an exaggerated queen's-English accent) "Excuse me. Sorry to bother you. Would you tell me where I am? I'm completely ass-smashed lost. Totally. Totally."
"There's this guitar riff stuck in my head. Doo doo doo doo-doo, doo doo doo doo-doo. Whoever wrote it.... is a cunt, because it's stuck in my head. Bastard. I'll stick something in his head."
Karen's notes: Thanks, everyone for the wonderful sleep talkin'/walkin' stories that you sent yesterday. We got loads of great ones!
I get requests from people who can't listen to the audio to transcribe the "reveals". Here's this one:
ADAM: Ow!
KAREN: Baby, why’d you do that?
ADAM: Do what?
KAREN: Didn’t you just punch the headboard? Does your hand hurt?
ADAM: Well… yeah, but…. that’s nothing new.
KAREN: Did you wonder why your hand was hurting?
ADAM: Possibly… I don’t think about these things generally ‘cause, you know, some part of me hurts at some point during the day. (Karen laughs, because Adam is extremely accident prone) I’ve got a question.
KAREN: Yeah?
ADAM: Wh-
KAREN: 3:30
ADAM: Hmm. I have a follow-up question.
KAREN: Yeah? (laughing)
ADAM: How long have you been awake for?
KAREN: Probably about half an hour.
ADAM: A tertiary question…
KAREN: No, I was awake before you started talking.
ADAM: My last question-- (Karen laughs) this is starting to freak me out now….
KAREN: (laughing) What’s your last question?
ADAM: Why are you so wide awake?
Karen's notes: Oh. My. God. The audio on this absolutely knocked my socks off. Who knew the queen concerned herself with such matters?
Listen everyone, we are looking for more great sleep-walkin' and sleep-talkin' stories. If you have one (or two or three...) email it to us with the subject "Contribution: Story". We'll let you know before we use it for anything.
The scene: Bed. The time: Yesterday morning. We've already been awake a while, had some toast in bed, now we're having a quiet cuddle. I'm snuggled up to Adam, he's got his arm thrown around me and his face nuzzled in my hair.
I just realize that he has drifted off to sleep, when he comes out with:
"Ga- ga- ga- gagging in your face!"
Oh, no! I'm not recording! I try and gently roll to the left, to reach the bedside table. I get the first couple of inches around, and Adam fully wraps his arm around me, pulls me into a vice-like embrace, and says:
"Why are you trying to escape? Stay! Aren't I a nice captor? Don't try and escape again."
Ok, that didn't work. Next I try sliding down toward the foot of the bed, out from under his arm. But I get stuck with his arm locked around my neck. He crows out:
"W.W.Eeeeeeeeeeeeeee, in the headlock!"
Finally, I just take my chances and heave myself out of his arms, lunging for the record button. I grab the laptop from the floor, and pop it open at the foot of the bed. And he's still talking:
"It's all cold. The boat's leaking. I feel the water... water...Ping pong balls! I know it. Ping pong balls. Ping pong..."
By now, I've started to type out what he's said before, and Adam hears the clicking of the keyboard....
"Great. Now it's fucking raining. What more can go wrong? ... FLOODING!"
Karen's notes: I think the anxiety and excitement of first a Formula One qualifier, shortly followed by an England World Cup game was just too much for Adam. He passed out like the dead and never roused. This was saved from Friday night.
Added later: Ha! Adam just drifted back to sleep and had a hilarious talking session, complete with wrestling match! I'll save it for tomorrow, though, so those who have already checked the blog don't miss it.
Karen's notes: Listen closely to the beginning of the first clip. That sound you hear is the pitter-patter of tiny little doggie feet on our bedroom carpet. Namely, the feet of Twinkle, the miniature chihuahua that we're dog sitting. Twinkle obviously felt that she had had enough sleep, and was ready for a bit of exercise.
I think it's cool that, in his sleep, Adam knew exactly what the skittering sound was.
Karen's notes: I tried all the tricks this morning (shaking the bed, humming, stroking Adam's back), but he was determined to stay in his deep sleep. So, these are from the nestegg.
The first one was quite recent, but that second one was from our honeymoon, which perhaps explains the appearance of mangoes.
"Yeah, got a forest full of those little critters. Smoke 'em out. I'm gonna smoke 'em out. And then I'm gonna... mmmm... I don't know. Haven't got that far yet. But I'll smoke 'em out. Mm-hmm."
Karen's notes: Here's what I find funniest about last night. Adam banishes the cheesy wig and turns his attention to something else. Then, an hour later, the cheesy wig comes back for another appearance! I also find the way he says cheesy wig hilarious. He doesn't say "cheesy WIG" as in, a wig that is tacky. He says "cheesywig", like a wig made of cheese. I want one in gouda!
Oh, yeah! And I love that everything he said was sleepy and slurred, except for "when you crap you smell like every other asshole," which is crystal clear.
As for the little critters, I don't know if this has anything to do with it, but we are dog sitting for Twinkle, a MINIATURE chihuahua. I want you all to imagine the size of a miniature chihuahua. About rat-sized, wouldn't you say? (sorry, Eleni)
Karen's notes: I was getting a bit nervous, what with Adam's quiet nights recently. Clearly, there was no need. Who the hell was my white, Jewish, queen's-English husband channeling with his "peace out muthafucka"?
Merch update: Two new quotes in the shops: "Yeah, I'm shapely. I'm a great big gorgeous shape, and loving it." and "Gin helps.... everything." Get 'em while they're hot!
Adam was quiet again last night, I saved this one from Friday night. I love the little pleasure-shiver at the end. Who knew duct tape could be so titillating?
Added later: I've been advised in the comments that duct tape and gaffer tape are in fact different. So perhaps there IS something extremely thrilling about gaffer tape that I've been missing all these years with my misguided loyalty to duct tape.
Karen's notes: Another quiet night, probably because we had a wonderful but very tiring day at the beach yesterday. this was from all the way back in February!
We had recently settled into bed. I still had my computer open; I hadn't even pressed "record" yet. To my surprise, Adam started chattering away. I wasn't even sure whether he was awake or asleep, so I started trying to interact with him. Here's what I caught once I started recording:
Adam: "You're not fitting in!"
Karen: "What do you mean?"
Adam: "I'm not mean."
This is a tarsier. They are the most adorable little creatures, very shy, like to keep to themselves. I can't imagine a tarsier would ever do anything that would warrant getting tasered.
On top of that, when I told him what he'd said, Adam had to ask me what a tarsier is. He had absolutely no idea at all.
and here we are in the dead of night, having a ridiculous, confused, half-asleep comparative zoological debate concerning members of the bovine classification:
Karen's notes: For those who don't know, in the States, "buffalo wings" are little chicken wings in a delicious spicy/tangy sauce. Adam knows this.
Shameless merch news: Finally, I created a proper line of GREETING CARDS! And I'm absurdly proud of myself (I'm FAR from being a designer), so please go check them out, even if you have no interest in buying.
If there's a quote you would really like on a card, email and let me know.
All of Adam's sleep talking occurred around 10:30 last night. We had gotten into bed early to read and relax, I was on a Skype call with my close friend Jenny, and Adam had drifted off to sleep. Suddenly, Adam came out with:
"You're the feather plucker! You're the feather plucker! You plucking out the feathers... Pluck off!"
Of course, I quickly went for the "record" button, and positioned my laptop over Adam's head for Jenny's benefit. She was lucky enough to catch:
"I'm not just good. I'm lick-my-parts tingling kind of good. Beat that."
or click here
("beat that" was too quiet for the recorder)
Jenny and I started talking about sleep talking, and Adam decided to join us in the conversation:
For those who don't have audio, I'm telling Jenny about the fact that one is paralyzed during REM sleep, and I finish with "Isn't that weird?" to which Jenny replies, "really weird." Adam, perhaps feeling left out, then chimes in with "totally weird, stupid doofus."
Don't worry guys, I'm not concerned that Adam was insinuating that either Jenny or I are doofuses, not to mention that fact that Adam has never used the word "doofus" in his waking life.
Jenny and I hung up eventually, but Adam still had more to share:
"The carrots are winning! Damn those parsnips and their stupid infighting. They've got so much to learn. Bring on the swede. Ooooh, that'll show 'em."
I'll mention that I made chicken soup last night, which included all of these feisty characters. (for those who don't know, swede is the british name for rutabaga.)
