Some people take a hot water bottle to bed. Others take some hot skanky stranger.
I take a broom and an iPod.
And for no kinky reasoning other than that hissy-fitting insomniacal drunk possum.
It hisses. I bash. It charges about the ceiling. I bash the ceiling some more. This routine hits Hour 2, and I bring in the iPod.
Nee maar fok. Between the late night soccer (football) and the possum, I am doomed never to sleep during the day’s dark hours again.
I have World Cup Jet Lag & Possum Insomnia.
And that is why I can only type this much zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
