My Night’s Sleep

Yes, I’ve been away from my blag here for a while, I’ll talk about that some later, but right now I want to talk about how I slept last night.

Seems dull, no?  Well strap the fuck in, because we’re going for a ride.

So I was lounging around with my father last night, getting ready for bed when my phone rings. I don’t recognize the number, so it goes to voicemail. Thanks to Google voice, while I wouldn’t have checked my voicemail before sleep I certainly checked my email, and something didn’t square. The sleep study I had scheduled, to try and pin down whatever gross mutation I am saddled with, for the SIXTH of January 2011 has apparently been spontaneously rescheduled for the FIFTH of January 2011 and I am LATE FOR MY STUDY. So, roundabouts ten o’clock (study was scheduled to begin at nine) I take the world’s fastest shower, pack sleeping clothes (note: I am a man, and do not usually use sleeping clothes, this was not easy), get in the car with my father, and travel to the hospital.

For those who’ve visited or lived here, you will know I live next door to the hospital. These fucking people scheduled it, however, at the affiliated hospital fifteen miles away, with heavy road construction between me and it. I have thirty minutes, so naturally, this was all very relaxing and just the sort of activity you want to partake of right before attempting a restful night’s sleep. When I arrived and got past the prick at emergency reception (you would think they would staff the pricks in a place where they won’t talk to people in need of genuine aid), I was escorted by a very nice fellow who asked me why I looked so wired and if I had been drinking caffeine (which was VERBOTEN).

“OF COURSE I’M WIRED YOU INCOMPETENT FUCKMOOK! I HAVE JUST HAD TO NAVIGATE A CAR THROUGH THE DARK PAST FLASHING LIGHTS AND INDUSTRIAL EQUIPMENT, TO A DESTINATION I HAVE VISITED ONLY TWICE BEFORE! FROM THE GODDAMN PASSENGER SEAT! WHILE WET! NO I HAVEN’T HAD ANY CAFFEINE WHERE’S MY BED!?” I screamed, loudly, in my mind, because it really wasn’t this guy’s fault that it was all bungled and fucked up.

Now I arrive in the room, the room where I am to “sleep” for the “night”. It looks like the room was decorated by a doctor from Victorian London and Lex Luthor’s most diabolical laboratory at the same time. The furniture is alternately horrifying in its unfeeling medical coldness with its probulators and tubey things, and handmade wooden furniture with ornate styling. There is a giant LCD screen that looks as if it is meant to broadcast instructions from Dr. Evil while I sleep to reprogram me into a heartless killing machine, and who knows, maybe it did, we’ll all find out now, won’t we. Directly underneath it there was a lovely little desk upon which sat forms for me to fill out.

“FUCK!”

I fill out the forms, giving the hospital consent to brainwash me and kill me and videotape me doing ridiculous shit wait what?! Videotape? I look above Dr. Evil’s global ransom screen and see an infrared camera that is FOLLOWING ME. This camera, henceforth referred to as the Eye of Sauron/Red Ring of Death for its blinding red LEDs surrounding it, has fixed its gaze on me. “I SEE YOU” I pretend to hear. Oh well, fuck it, this whole affair is deranged anyway, I’ll sign all the consent forms including one for electrical shocks which I really wish I hadn’t just skimmed over before signing.

Right, now time to sleep. I figure they’ll put a nice sleeping cap on that contains all the sensors and brain probes required, plug it into the vaguely dildonic looking machine next to the bed and we’ll be off. Then I see the attendant preparing them.

Electrodes. Old school. Glue to your skull type things. I’ve had an EEG before so I figure, oh well, I’ll just have to wash the spunk-like glue out of my hair tomorrow morning. Turns out there were a few more things to plug in than there were last time. I counted 12 electrodes in my hair on top of my head, six around my eyes, one on my throat, two on my chest, four on each leg and two on my right arm, plus two straps across my torso.

Me, 10% of the way through the procedure

Me, 10% of the way through the procedure

Oh, and four electrodes in my beard.

THEY.

PUT.

ELECTRODES.

IN.

MY.

FUCKMOTHERING.

BEARD.

Well this night was clearly going to be restful. I got into the bed, which was surprisingly comfortable, and was given the nostril-fucker device which completed my ridiculous cyberpunk bondage outfit. The Eye of Sauron looked at me with what I swear was fucking pity, and after some tests to make sure all the gizmos and probes and prehensile robotic copulators were functioning fully, the lights went out.

Now, if you want to play the home version of this game, its simple. Take all the cables from your router, computer, etc, and plug them into your goddamn face. Then put the router and the computer next to your pillow, and lie still enough that the machines will not be displeased. It is essentially what getting skullfucked by our future robot overlords would be like, post-skullfucking when Ribonulator 800 wants to cuddle and suck power from your neurons. And your hair and beard are full of a rich, nutritive glue that is a translucent whitish color, and difficult to wash out. Now RELAX AND HAVE A GOOD NIGHT!

Miraculously I managed to sleep. My sleep was consistently interrupted whenever I accidentally tugged one of the cables and displeased the Ribonulator and had to roll back over. Eventually the stress of the unblinking gaze of the Dark Lord Sauron and the probes damaged my calm and I hit the “GET IN HERE, ASSHOLE” button next to the bed (note that the device all the electrodes are plugged into is on the bed with you, while the button you have to push in case of distress is on the fucking nightstand) to demand my valium from my bag. I would have gotten up and taken it myself, but not only was I plugged into the Matrix, here, the blanket was a special weighted blanket that made it near impossible to sit up without the attendant removing it for you. I eventually fell asleep again. Then, I discovered that in lieu of an alarm clock they fucking shock your torso to wake you up when you’re “done”. This was 5:30 AM.

Now, the long, arduous process of disconnecting me from the mechano-tentacles of the Borg began, and I got up to wash my face and then fill out the “customer satisfaction” survey. If you’re wondering, yes, I did use phrases like “Eye of Sauron”, “facefucked by androids” and so on in this survey.

Then I saw myself in the mirror.

Bleak, bleary-eyed and miserable, hair all fucked up as per usual. Rub my eyes a couple times. Holy shit. It looks like I’ve been bukkake’d by Optimus Prime and all his friends. I wash as much of the vile glue out as I can before hastily calling for rescue.

Now tell me you're a naughty girl...

It is 7:39 now, and after showering and washing my face twice, I still do not have all of that goddamn glue out of my beard.

Sleep tight, everyone!

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