My Sleepwalking

My friend Lindsey would get a kick out of this . . . so I'll just blog about it and figure it'll probably get around to her eventually. She loves how my logic evolves. What I do is I take facts as I see them and come to a logical conclusion, but if you weren't there for the whole thought process you'll think I'm nuts.

Example, you say?

Okie dokie.

Last night I may have killed a prostitute in my bed.

You think I'm nuts, yes? Case in point people. Case. In. Point.

NOW, lets take you through a very logical thought process.

So last night I fell asleep while reading about rabies. I slept fitfully for about 6 hours. Usually when I wake up exhausted that means I've been sleepwalking.

(Matt has come over early in the morning before to discover my . . . leavings. Like when I toasted a box of frozen waffles, placed them all over my kitchen, then ate a tube of toothpaste.)

After my shower I went to make my bed and noticed a fair amount of blood on my sheets. Blood. BLOOD?! After examining myself thoroughly I found no lacerations or abrasions. I had no taste of blood in my mouth.

You can believe that I went over every square inch of my body because after a night dreaming of rabies I was positive a bat was sucking blood from somewhere while I dozed.

ANYWAY - nothing.

So clearly - I fell asleep, then sleep walked outside, picked up a prostitute, came back to my bedroom, killed said prostitute, disposed of his or her body (My best guess would be that I stuffed in in the abandoned coal chute in my building. That's just a guess.), then went back to sleep.

See people? Logic.

Either that or I ate a bag of Hickory Barbeque chips and downed a Dr. Pepper slurpee then drooled like a sieve all night long.

The world may never know . . .