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[personal profile] paraxeni
 Picture it.  2009, 8am, you've been asleep for 2 hours.  Suddenly your mad, blue-haired girlfriend shakes you awake.  "Lisa, LISA!!  Take it, you have him, take him away I can't cope... mumble mumble... Bagpuss.  BAGPUSS IS A SLUTPIPE!".  She shoves the stuffed pink and white Bagpuss into your hands, pats him on the head, then you, and turns over muttering about 'cat slags'.

Welcome to Lisa's world.

She told me about it, after we were rudely awakened by the Postie.  She came back to bed and said "Here's Bagpuss back, he misses you"   I demanded to know what she was doing with him, and when she told me I starting laughing so hard that I went blue.  I went for a wee, and just sat there giggling hysterically with the rabbits peering quizzically through their gate.  "Why is fat mam out of bed so early?  Why is she squeaking?  Where are the Bunny Burgers?". 

  Now like many of my brain-damaged compatriots if I'm laughing I can't do anything else.  People have done things for the last 12 years or so, like waiting till I'm crossing a road or halfway up some stairs before shouting something that they lknow will induce giggles, and paralyse me on the spot, usually making me fall down in the process   All I can do while I laugh is lie, flapping my arms and gasping for breath.  Lisa claims I'm "Attempting to communicate with the Mothership" and says "Yip yip Mothership, come in Mothership" which increases the hysteria, the flapping and the paralysis.  So imagine, if you can, me trying to stagger up two steps and along the landing while laughing about what I'd done.  By the time I fell back into bed I could do nothing but lie there wheezing and screeching with tears streaming down my face.  It took an hour to get back to sleep because every time I looked up I saw Bagpuss, which set me off again.

 I do not make a habit of acquiring stuffed toys, but a) Bagpuss is a legend and b) his gob is the perfect size for my factory-grade foam earplugs.  He holds them for me through the day, then spits then into my hand before sleep time to drown out the ginger one's elephantine snoring.  My snores are probably worse, but they don't wake me up like hers do.  She also chunters incessantly, types on my back in her sleep, and reels off talk-plans.  It's safer for her if I can't hear her, a sleep-deprived blue-haired loon is not a pretty sight at all.

 Oh, and remember the man that came to put in a drive, dug up the garden and left without finishing?  Well the garden was Lisa's pride and joy, and she's been incredibly depressed and ashamed about the state of it, even though it wasn't her fault.   Yesterday at 9am the landlord removed all of our trees, plants and bushes, the fences, oh and quite a bit of gardening kit grr.  However, one half of the garden is now gravelled and marked out awaiting concrete, the other half is being levellled, and there's a new fence.    Would've been nice to have notice, but that's how he works.  Means we'll need to buy new roses and stuff, but it'll be a vast improvement on the lumpy, misshapen, hard to mow 1920's style layout we had before.  The path's being widened for my chair, and with the car on the drive the insurance will go down.  Woohoo.  Well done landlord, it only took you 4 years after all!

Date: 2009-10-11 04:55 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Adorable! What's the story behind Bagpuss?

Date: 2009-10-12 08:19 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Oh you've never been exposed to Bagpuss? That just is not fair. He is a pink and white feline demi-deity.

Welcome to British childhood!

Lisa ranks this incident with the time I woke her up to tell her "You're my baby bear. You haven't got a mama so I'll be your mama bear. What do mama bears do? They love their babies, look after them, feed them and keep them warm. I love you baby bear! Then I grabbed her in both arms and finished my spiel with a hearty "RAAAAAAAAAR!"
Edited Date: 2009-10-12 08:27 pm (UTC)

Date: 2009-10-12 11:09 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]

I feel a tantrum coming on.




*does the boneless-child move*

Grandma is officially on my shit list for never exposing me to this wonderful show.

Back in my sleeping-alone days, I did a lot of weird shit in the middle of the night due to a cocktail of sleeping pills and anti-depressants that didn't do much more than make me really high. The first time anything happened, I played Grand Theft Auto 2 after taking about 1000mg more Seroquel than I should have. It was my first time playing. I don't know if you've ever played that game, but you basically run around kicking copper ass and running errands for the mob, all from an aerial-bird's-eye point of view. So I had a dream that night that I was watching myself as a little cartoon game character running around and killing cops, but I could only kick them in my dream. I woke up with all of the blankets off of me kicking my wall repeatedly. The next day I had a limp.

The only time I remember being caught saying something weird due to this medication was when I was thirteen; it was shortly after this incident, but it was summer. I wound up staying up every night on my medication watching A Hamster's Tale, some low-key British show on PBS that came on every weekday at 5AM. All of the quiet British accents and all the cute little animals just put me right to sleep.

I woke up at 10AM to the smell of bacon. My grandparents were standing in my room, looking half amused and half terrified. Apparently, the smell of bacon had roused me from my medicated slumber, and I screamed something to the effect of, "NO. NO. NO. NOT THE PIG. NOT THE PIG. NOT THE DUCK. QUAAAACK!" My grandparents ran in to the mumbling of "quack, quack," and when they tried to wake me, I angrily said, "What the fuck are you doing? I'm trying to fucking sleep."

More recently, I learned that when awoken during a dream, if I am still stuck in that dream while someone attempts to talk to me, all of my statements translate from dreamworld to reality in gibberish. Adam woke me up and I asked him, "Do you want eggs?" In my dream I was making fried eggs, so this seemed totally normal to me. However, what I apparently was really saying was, "Nagafrooskin gar?" When asked to repeat myself, I heard the laughter in Adam's question, so I became upset and raised my voice, "NAGAFROOSKIN. GAR."

As far as I know, these are the only things I've done in my sleep that have been witnessed, either by myself or by others.

Oh. Except this one time I'd had way too many Starbursts (American candy, if you don't know of them). It was the first time my best friend slept over at my house. We were both on the couch, and I just kept quietly farting in rapid succession. They sounded very ethereal and not very fart-like. I actually remember the way they sounded because I have a tendency to wake up at my own bodily noises (like this one time I farted so loudly in my boyfriend's old bed, before we moved in together, that I woke up and thought it was thundering). It scared her so much she hopped off the couch and shook me awake, "Ashley! Ashley. Is your house haunted?" I just said, "I'm just farting. Go back to bed," but she laughed so hard we couldn't get back to sleep.

Date: 2009-10-12 11:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Hey, what is the bird's name? I really like him!


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