There have been three times in my life that I slept walked.

Three times that I know of.

The first was in high school. I got up and started an inexplicable argument with my mom about some dog. To this day we don’t know what dog I was referring to, whether said dog was fictional or the genuine article, and whether or not I won the argument. Mom says she won, but she’s not going to admit to losing an argument only she was awake for.

The second time was about 6 years ago. I got up for a stroll and one of my cats tripped me. I did a header into a coffee table that one of those old school box TVs was sitting on. I still have a scar on the bottom of my chin where the hair doesn’t grow any more. Saves a few seconds shaving time I guess.

The third time was last night.

I got up and marched across the bed. At the edge of the bed I saluted the wall. Then I stepped off the edge and abruptly sprained my ankle.

Which is the speed most sprains happen. You never hear, “Wow, that was a great ski trip. Other than that time I gradually collided with that boulder after falling 30 feet from a chair lift I had a great time.”

The point of pain was the exact moment that my consciousness shifted from non-oriented to dis-oriented. I went  from the black emptiness of non-existence to sitting on the floor wondering how I got there and why my foot hurt. At no other time in my life has the phrase “what the f___?” been more appropriate.

Maybe when I was born but I couldn’t articulate quite as well back then.

From what I can gather upon reflection my mission was to overcome gravity. On further analysis (proctologists put the anal back in analysis) there were exactly three problems with the mission.

1) The mission itself

2) The basic laws of physics

3) Performing the mission on autopilot

So I guess gravity won this round.

I was able to ease the pain after about 15 minutes to the point where I could sleep again. I was a little paranoid about sleep walking again, it was too early in the morning (3 am or so) for me to reason clearly that even if the first step didn’t hurt, the second one would wake my ass up (and hopefully my face as well).

The next day I hobbled my way to the gym to do some dead-lifts.

I’m always trying to set a good example of resting after an injury.

I may not have overcome gravity, but I taunted gravity relentlessly by lifting something that it was trying to hold down.

Have you ever taunted gravity while inside an airplane? It takes a lot of courage to tempt fate in such circumstances.

The next time you’re in a plane taking off say out loud so most people on the plane can hear, “Yeah, what NOW, gravity? Looks like we won this round. Mankind 1, gravity 0. Suck on THAT, gravity.”

In the spirit of making a long story longer, here’s some amazing health information for Halloween. Halloween is ALL of October, not just the 31st.

Health Info

The holidays are an excellent time for making healthy and wholesome food choices.

That was my last joke.

This protocol from the book Kiss your Dentist Goodbye will eliminate plaque build up and morning breath whether you choose to eat healthy or otherwise (let’s choose healthy, people).

Further motivation for whoever’s not motivated by vanity: Healthy teeth and gums are more often associated with a healthy heart and blood vessels than unhealthy ones.

Link to that here: bed breath Yeah, bed breath, bedroom time is fresh breath time.

Everyone who has been receiving my articles for a little while know that simply adjusting your posture for 2 minutes can increase your powers of negotiation, decrease your stress hormones and increase your confidence hormones.

For those of you new to the game: Amy Cuddy’s TED talk

Amy is doing new research on our sleeping posture. Sleeping and waking with your arms and legs outstretched is “the right side of the bed.” Curled up like a baby is “the wrong side.”

Sleeping in expansive postures will actually cause you to wake up more refreshed, confident and ready to conquer the day.

And irritate your spouse or significant other.

Win, win!

Hey, now you have plausible deniability and an excuse to move up to a king-size mattress.

Here’s Amy’s twitter post: Fetal Position Waking

No news yet on whether it affects sleep walking though.


OK, goofing off – done.

Useful information – done.

If you’d like to bail out now, great, I certainly would. Happy Halloween!

There will be nothing more of useful value




And…..back to goofing off.

Everything prior was written last month, September 11, the morning of the sleep walking. I think the ankle sprain was karmic punishment for not having one of those “I support the troops” bumper stickers on my car. Apparently that’s mandatory on 9-11. At least according to my subconscious.

That’ll teach me.

Is it still politically correct to support the troops publicly? It’s trickier in the bay area than other places. Mostly it depends on whether or not you’re in Berkeley. As far as I know it’s not even PC to shave in Berkeley. Which is cool, because I prefer my women furry and militant.

There was that great classic rock song that went “She called me daddy and I called her Chewbacca.” It was written in Berkeley by that band The Protesters.

I really identify with that song. It reminds me of a time when I was up and coming and would be occasionally mistaken for a homeless person. Those were the good old days.

College age Berkeley and San Francisco girls really dug the homeless look. At least those circa-2003 girls did. Looking back I should have gotten my buddies together to make a calender. We’d have made a killing.

If you live in Berkeley and yet remain clean shaven I salute you. Way to fight oppression and stick it to the man.

Just messing with you Berkeley, are you still hiding street signs behind trees?

Hopefully there’s not an actual band from Berkeley called the Protesters.

Anti-libel disclaimer: The Protesters did not actually write the lyric “She called me daddy and I called her Chewbacca.” The proportion of unkempt facial and armpit hair is not necessarily more prevalent in Berkeley than anywhere else, except Pacific Beach in San Diego. Nothing funny should ever be said in conjunction with 9-11. Unless you’re Joan Rivers and/or hilarious.

RIP Joan. It would be a better world if we all could look that good after death.

Apparently her face was already mummified before she passed. Joan requested in her will to exhume her body in 100 years or so and put her perfectly preserved head in a museum. When kids push the button under her head it will perform clips of her stand-up and every once in a while scream maniacally.

That’ll teach those kids.

Anti-libel disclaimer: Science fiction people, c’mon, just science fiction.

OK I think I’m done.

Enjoy your sexy Chewbacca dreams.