- Entertainment and Media
Charles Dickens vs Ambien
I was at my place of employment the other day, diligently crunching numbers and making my boss copious amounts of money, by that I mean, I was hunched over my desk derping around on Reddit making it appear as if I were working when I came across across a topic on there, “What’s the craziest thing you’ve done not sober.” They all, of course, were gross random sex stories, and I’m certainly not suave enough to have elustriast sex stories, nonetheless something that would fall into a crazy sexescapade. I’m lucky to just being doing the deed in general. But I always make a point to high five after when I do have happyfuntime and maybe give them the double guns followed by a, “pew pew” noise. Ladies…. For some reason they never come back for seconds. Whatevs. Point being I have a tale. It involves me and sleeping medication. Getting un-sober on prescribed medication! Thug Life!
So many years ago when I was a baby adult of the age of 20 (Okay. Like 5 years ago. But I’m convinced I’m a 75 year old trapped in an awkward 25 year old body), I was struggling really badly with sleeping issues. I would go days of not sleeping and pretty much look like some weird zombie all the time. And this was before all the cool kids were doing bath salts to get that bitchin’ zombie look. Though the perk to mine was that I didn’t eat anyone’s face. As a result of my lack of sleeping I landed myself an appointment with my doctor. I was like, “Yo Doc! I’m looking like an MF’n extra in a George Romero movie. Homie not sleeping” and he was like, “Aw Hell Nah! Take dis shit niggz!” He then proceeded to make magical sleeping dust rain on me as if I were a high class stripper getting pelted with singles. (Author’s Note: Said dialogue was actually way more boring in real life. I just like to relive all of my past events as if I were in 8 Mile.) So, I was then prescribed Ambien! If you don’t know what that is I’ll fill you in. It’s this magical pill you take that knocks you the eff out. And by you. I mean your brain. While you sleep your body is then possessed by the soul of Nicholas Cage, who makes you do weird stuff, a la ‘Cage Rage’ and who also has access to your credit card. You do feel really well rested like 12 hours later though. You also awake completely oblivious to anything you’ve done during that 12 hours. It’s a complete mystery. You’re kinda like Neo waking up in The Matrix for the first time. Just very confused. Sometimes you’re also naked and covered in goo.
My parents had heard crazy tales of people doing odd stuff while on the Cage Rage Sleepytime pill, so they babysat me the first few times I took it. Beyond mumbling in my sleep a few times not too much bat-shittery ensued. So, I went back to my own house and on my first night branching out on my own with my prescription drug usage and being all growns up, therefore leaving my rents, I decided to get a good night’s sleep. My girlfriend, at the time, was staying over and that’s the only way I knew what transpired ….
Ambien, Mountains, and Dickens Oh My!
It started off with my normal mumbling and sounding kinda like Sloth from The Goonies. (Can’t confirm if I screamed Baby Ruth or not, but I wouldn’t be surprised) Then the Kraken was awoken. I, apparently, stood straight up with my eyes still closed and just ran down my stairs, got in a crawling position, then intensely crawled up my staircase screaming, “I will scale you Everest!” The proceeding 5 minutes was full of me slowly embarking on my miniature 10 ft. scale version of Mt. Everest. Through blood, sweat, and I assumed I might’ve even cannibalized my fellow imaginary climbers I reached the peak! Victory! I stood up and fist pumped the air yelling, “I’m the first man to climb Everest!” I then forced my girlfriend to hug me. As if doing that once wasn’t enough… I relived that experience apparently about 5-6 more times. From what went from weird but kind of adorable to my GF, has now crossed into, “Oh my God! I wish I had a DeLorean so I can go back in time and coax his mom into having an abortion. Jesus H. Macy!” She then had to like suplex me on to my bed and sit on me so I wouldn’t move till I finally passed. Or so I thought …. I woke up the next day on my couch with my laptop out and my credit card out. For whatever reason I didn’t put much thought into it. The lady told me about how weird I was with the Everest thing. I laughed. She fake laughed. Then we went on our merry way for the day.
Upon checking my email a few days later I found a lovely little Amazon Receipt for about $50 dollars worth of books. Now mind you, I read, but more like Stephen King and Mark Danielwiski and See Spot Run. I’ve never even put any thought into classic literature or really gave two corn-filled Indiana shits about it. Yet, here I am looking at a receipt for about 5 books over the life of Charles Dickens. I went full Scrooge mode over this and much like the ending to Mystery Of Edwin Drood I was blank …. Until I remembered waking up next to my laptop. What I deduced was that Cage Rage Brett is apparently into classic literature and Cliffhanger, and I purchased all of these books after I guess faked sleeping till my GF (Abbreviation for laziness and hipness.) passed out. I’m now all too aware that Dickens was kind of an asshat and had terrible hair. I never really gave a shit to know that, but for $50 I better learn something. Coincidentally, my GF & I split like 2 weeks later. I blame the Cage Rage. Certainly not the fact I’m a super weird dude. So, there’s probably the most embarrassing story of my life. Enjoy internet!
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