Apparently I talk in my sleep. This I'm told by my artner that I conveniently share a bed with. Or, shall I say shared a bed with.
Last Saturday morning, I was apparently rolling underneath the sheets. Amid the rustle of cotton, she heard some kind of moaning but not a sexual moan. Something more along the lines of a dog crying because his mother removed her tit from his salivating mouth. Damn, how's that for graphic. Anyhoo. So, whah whah, there's some muffled whimpering. Artner says that it happened for a good minute or two when suddenly the whimpering became language.
If ever you meet artner, ask her to tell you the story. It's so funny and unbelivable. I swear I didn't do it. The illustration above is hers. That's me lying on my side with those highly articulated words coming out of my mouth post whimper a la Britney Spears.
"Mmm...Mmmm...I Like It" (back to dreamland)
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see photo below
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