Airing it Out
"Stuck you for your stash in your pissy mattress..."
I have been sleeping on an air mattress for the past week and boy is it wonderful. It is amazing how they can design such wonders as this --featuring trendy material like felt on top of vinyl, a $20 air pump that is not compatible with anything else in the history of mankind, a shape too big for full size sheets and too small for queen sized ones, and material that attracts and shares more dirt with its owner than The National Inquisitor.
One night on the air mattress reveals even more great feats when it comes to engineering. It takes like 10 minutes to inflate. It provides absolutely no back support and is virtually incompatible with pillows. It retains absolutely no body heat whatsoever. It does not maintain its air pressure or integrity for more than two nights. What a modern marvel.
Last night was exceptionally fun. Thanks, Mother Nature, for that unexpected cold front this weekend. Ironically, all my sweatshirts are in 80-degree Florida, and all I have up here are t-shirts. I woke up at like 4 a.m. in the morning, and I felt like I had been sleeping on a soft ice cube at Chilly Willy's. I went downstairs and realized I had no warmer clothing. Not to be defeated, I put on 3 t-shirts and microwaved a bath towel for two minutes which I took back upstairs with me and stashed underneath my blanket.
Now, uber-strong as it is, the air mattress felt like it was going to buckle when topped with my burly frame, two sheets, a blanket, a hot towel, two pillows, and three t-shirts, though I eventually settled in and began the road back to Sand-man-land. However, refusing to go down without a fight, Coleman's finest portable sleeping accoutrement began drawing me in like a Venus Fly Trap. Sinking in to the middle, the ends of the bed began to rise, exposing my appendages to the unduly harsh atmosphere of the room, which now contained less heat than Freddie Mercury would feel reading Hustler magazine. The air mattress had managed to defeat conditioned air, three layers of cotton, sheets, blankets, hot towels, the principle that hot air rises (I was upstairs), and one 98.6. What a night.
I woke up at 7:30 unable to sleep anymore, back aching, freezing, with eyes with more baggage than Michael Jackson. And my first final is tomorrow.
I think I might just try sleeping on the floor tonight. Hell, if it got Arnold laid in Twins, it's got to be good enough to get me more than three uninterrupted hours of sleep......
I have been sleeping on an air mattress for the past week and boy is it wonderful. It is amazing how they can design such wonders as this --featuring trendy material like felt on top of vinyl, a $20 air pump that is not compatible with anything else in the history of mankind, a shape too big for full size sheets and too small for queen sized ones, and material that attracts and shares more dirt with its owner than The National Inquisitor.
One night on the air mattress reveals even more great feats when it comes to engineering. It takes like 10 minutes to inflate. It provides absolutely no back support and is virtually incompatible with pillows. It retains absolutely no body heat whatsoever. It does not maintain its air pressure or integrity for more than two nights. What a modern marvel.
Last night was exceptionally fun. Thanks, Mother Nature, for that unexpected cold front this weekend. Ironically, all my sweatshirts are in 80-degree Florida, and all I have up here are t-shirts. I woke up at like 4 a.m. in the morning, and I felt like I had been sleeping on a soft ice cube at Chilly Willy's. I went downstairs and realized I had no warmer clothing. Not to be defeated, I put on 3 t-shirts and microwaved a bath towel for two minutes which I took back upstairs with me and stashed underneath my blanket.
Now, uber-strong as it is, the air mattress felt like it was going to buckle when topped with my burly frame, two sheets, a blanket, a hot towel, two pillows, and three t-shirts, though I eventually settled in and began the road back to Sand-man-land. However, refusing to go down without a fight, Coleman's finest portable sleeping accoutrement began drawing me in like a Venus Fly Trap. Sinking in to the middle, the ends of the bed began to rise, exposing my appendages to the unduly harsh atmosphere of the room, which now contained less heat than Freddie Mercury would feel reading Hustler magazine. The air mattress had managed to defeat conditioned air, three layers of cotton, sheets, blankets, hot towels, the principle that hot air rises (I was upstairs), and one 98.6. What a night.
I woke up at 7:30 unable to sleep anymore, back aching, freezing, with eyes with more baggage than Michael Jackson. And my first final is tomorrow.
I think I might just try sleeping on the floor tonight. Hell, if it got Arnold laid in Twins, it's got to be good enough to get me more than three uninterrupted hours of sleep......
posted by TheRealDookie | 12:20 AM
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