I can’t bear it.
Before this blog starts I would like to talk about me in the 3rd person to point out that that handsome OJ is a man. A red blooded, hunter gatherer who could, if he wanted to, bring down a wooly mammoth and feed the tribe…. even though he is a vegetarian freestyler.
So having only just moved in with the less hairy love of my life (my girlfriend that is, not a seal. Although they do make me laught those slippery honking bastards) I’m now of the gang that sleeps in a bed that is no longer my own. this isn’t helped by James the Director (who’s flat i rent) only has a queen sized bed. So that when I heat up to my, allegedly, 119C. At night being near me is like being next to a sweating hog.
Last night was no different, made worse due to the fact I staggered in drunk to the complete happyness of the good lady. Problem is that I woke up this morning hugging a teddy bear and I have no idea how. Is this a sign of my manlyness. A sign that I can sleep with a bear and not worry about it? I’m not sure. the worry I have is that I slept very well last night thank you very much. To the point that I may phone home to my ma and see if I can get her to send my childhood best friend, my bear called Milton. Why he has a Jewish name I have no idea.
Do you sleep with a bear. Are you still a man. Help me!
