Been in Berlin and its this trip that has pushed me over the edge. I had no internet access as Vista deemed it unsafe and I had no way around it in my limited skill set. I am going Apple and for those of you who know me and the god damned argument Sparky and I have had over this Apple crap, you know its got to be bad.
I made an unwise choice going with Vista and I will suck it up and deal with the MacBook that we shall soon purchase. In fact, i’m going all Apple. I’m even turning in my Sony MP3 player for an ipod. Sparky was right, Apple appears to be a breeze to use. However, I knew that Jefferson Airplane and Jefferson Starship were related so we’re even right?
So Tink memed us and by us, I mean me and Sparky. And
this morning Tuesday morning at breakfast, we discussed it. It was interesting breakfast conversation as the first place Sparky went was what we do IN bed. Our breakfast neighbour was a bit shocked, especially since we’re in a marriage renaissance of sorts. And if you know Sparky, you can understand the intermittent choking sounds of our neighbour.
J: So, what is something you do weird in bed?
S: I don’t know, but you have to have your toes tucked into something.
This is true, I need to have my toes tucked into something constricting, like between the mattress and the bed frame. But this is only after I have rubbed my toes against Sparky’s feet for an indeterminable length of time. There are times that I just have to hold on with my toes. I have monkey feet, a family characteristic, and they are quite useful. I pick everything up with my toes.
S: And we both have to sleep naked.
J: True, but is that weird? Don’t most people sleep naked?
J: Come on. I haven’t met anyone who didn’t have kids popping in in the middle of the night who didn’t sleep naked. Clothing is too constricting.
S: Look at Tink she has to wear clothes and Underwear is totally common.
J: If anyone should sleep naked, its Tink. But I guess since she’s been with G for so long, its old news.
S: And I have to have “scratchies my backies” for at least fifteen minutes.
J: True. Good thing I don’t mind or you would be good friends with our wood beams.
S: True. Thank you for your scratching skills.
J: No problem.
I sipped my coffee trying to think of more weird shit we do.
J: Does it count that you’re a violent sleeper?
J: You beat the shit out of me if I don’t build my fort. Good thing you don’t sleep with a pillow. I need the extra fluffiness. Dude, even the cats have learned to sleep out of fist range. I still think it’s your sub-conscious acting out in your sleep that which you suppress during the day which explains why you always manage to pop me in the face or on the back of the head. You’re really a wife beater.
S: You love it.
J: No, I would love it if you were awake and left my face alone. Remember when we were having sex that one time and your forehead and my nose connected and I was sure I was going to need stitches. Dude, I was so pissed. My nose is the only decent part of my face, if you had fucked that up along with my twat after you decided fisting was the way to go, man, you’re just trying to ruin me for other men. Kegels work for twats, I’m not sure if I can do exercises to keep my face in working order. I’m going to go home this year looking like Farrah Fawcet. Jesus, it’s like that Natasha Thomas song. Sparky, Why does your love hurt so much?
(That was part of the conversation spoken solely for the benefit of our breakfast neighbour and it had the desired effect.)
On that note, we were both silent for a couple moments.
J: And you can’t fall sleep if there is the slightest noise. Dude, you can sleep through lightning storms and my screams of terror. Ya know, if a killer came in and killed me in the night, you’d sleep right through it. It would be like that Jane Fonda movie where she woke up covered in blood next to a dead guy. You’re lucky we’re in Germany or you’d go to jail for life.
S: True. But as that scenario is really only viable in your head, I think I’ll be okay. And I can fall asleep with noise, it just can’t be that barely audible noise that drives me insane. Like the buzzing from the TV or the droning of the media center. Man, that drives me nuts.
J: You’re psychotic. That drives me nuts because then you’re up trying to figure out the buzzing. “Do you hear the TV today, ITS LOUDER THAN LAST NIGHT.” Honestly, you make it up. Maybe not consciously, but the buzz level never changes.
S: You do it too. You always look at the misplaced ceiling lights. And then you complain bitterly.
J: Fucking Olf. Why didn’t he measure before placing permanent fixtures. Measure twice, cut once. Do they not teach these things here in Krautland. Don’t get me started.
J: And I wake up immediately and usually a minute before the alarm goes off, ready to start the day.
S: That’s really annoying. You wake up and expect me to get up too. Sometimes I wake up to you staring at me with that crazy-ass look in your eyes. I would not be surprised if Iwoke up and YOU were that psycho killer you talk about. That’s IT. You think of psycho killers because you ARE a psycho killer.
J: Hit me again in the night and you’ll find out, buddy. The problem with me waking up so quickly is that you always need ten more minutes and the next thing you know it’s been three hours and you still want ten more minutes. Maybe you can tell that the psycho killer “Just give me ten more minutes and then I’ll try to fight you off.”
S: Nice. I woke up the night the tree fell in the backyard and you freakishly slept through that. You thought it was Arrested Development.
J: That was what you were watching when I fell asleep.
S: Still you slept through a huge tree falling down the side of a hill. A serial killer totally could have gotten you that night.
J: Hmm. Whatever. What else. We need a couple more.
S: You have to sleep with a sheet or a blanket. And you like it tucked in tight.
J: Maybe I was swaddled as a kid. I do like to fall asleep tightly bound. And you, Mr. Volcano of a Thousand Passions, you radiate so much heat in the night. I really don’t understand how we manage to sleep in the same bed. You are so hot and I mean temperature wise so get that look off your face, if it wasn’t the flying fists of suppressed rage, it would be the actual inferno-like heat that pushes me to the other side of the bed. Other than the romantic reasons, we technically, should sleep in separate beds. I like soft mattresses, you like hard. You sleep without pillows and I sleep with four plus a pile of clothes. You’re hot, I’m cool, you sleep late, I wake up early and alert. You’re violent, I’m a lamb.
S: You wake up early and alert because you’ve got control issues. Same reason you wake up at the slightest noise except falling trees, of course.
J: Dude, I must have been exhausted. You wore me out dodging fists.
So I’m not really sure if I got all six for both of us, but the conversation moved on and then Sparky had to go to work.
Vista is not letting me access the free wlan in our hotel. I love Microsoft and its protective nature. So protective that its useless. I might be trading this beauteous machine in for an Apple. Seriously, Vista is crap. So, I have NO e-mail access, however, I do have ample time to respond. If I owe you an e-mail, it’s on its way as of Thursday when I’m back.