sleepyhead
Heavyweight (8.5 oz/yd² | 288.2 g/m²) hoodie with direct-to-garment print. Made in WRAP-certified facilities.
Having trouble getting out of bed today? Do you often think to yourself 'I'd sell my soul to my landlord if he would remove my bladder so I could stay…
Having trouble getting out of bed today? Do you often think to yourself 'I'd sell my soul to my landlord if he would remove my bladder so I could stay in bed longer'? I do. Sometimes when I'm laying in bed at 3pm having just woken up, I think about how good it would be to not have to leave the comfort of the blankets. On average a cat sleeps 12 - 18 hours a day, why can't I?
I called my boss and told him that I'm not coming in tomorrow. Either he lets me work from my bed or he can get to fuck. He told me that I can't make subway sandwiches from my bed as it goes against hygiene standards so I told him to go fuck himself and hung up. That evening I prepared for the rest of the weekend by moving a minifridge next to my bed and filling it with burger patties. On top of the fridge I placed a George Foreman grill, some ketchup, buns and 4 boxes of red wine. Alongside the fridge were 3 empty piss bottles and a bedpan I fashioned out of an old cowboy hat lined with clingfilm. A 56inch television loomed over the end of my bed with a 45+ hour long playlist on youtube entirely about the lore of Warhammer 40K ready to go.
I was going to do it. I knew the spirits of all the sleepyboys that came before were looking down on me that night as I drifted off to sleep to the hum of the little fridge next to me. The scent of wet wipes ready to go hung heavy in the air reassuringly . I was to be one man against nature. One man against god. Fuck getting out of bed, you can peel me from this mattress when I'm fused to it.
I called my boss and told him that I'm not coming in tomorrow. Either he lets me work from my bed or he can get to fuck. He told me that I can't make subway sandwiches from my bed as it goes against hygiene standards so I told him to go fuck himself and hung up. That evening I prepared for the rest of the weekend by moving a minifridge next to my bed and filling it with burger patties. On top of the fridge I placed a George Foreman grill, some ketchup, buns and 4 boxes of red wine. Alongside the fridge were 3 empty piss bottles and a bedpan I fashioned out of an old cowboy hat lined with clingfilm. A 56inch television loomed over the end of my bed with a 45+ hour long playlist on youtube entirely about the lore of Warhammer 40K ready to go.
I was going to do it. I knew the spirits of all the sleepyboys that came before were looking down on me that night as I drifted off to sleep to the hum of the little fridge next to me. The scent of wet wipes ready to go hung heavy in the air reassuringly . I was to be one man against nature. One man against god. Fuck getting out of bed, you can peel me from this mattress when I'm fused to it.