Talking In Her Sleep

My wife talks in her sleep. A lot. Her nocturnal vocalizations range from Complete Gibberish to Articulate-And-Thoughtful to Freudian-And-Profane to Just-Plain-Hilarious. But when I try to shush her and get back to sleep, she always asks: "What'd I say?" So, we've rigged up a Sharp MD MS-722 MiniDisc recorder and a Radio Shack microphone on the bedside table in a quest to answer the eternal question..."What'd I Say?" Click the player beneath each title to listen.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

And Now, For The Surf Report.

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My wife now gives me the surf report in her sleep. And the weird thing is, she's right. I love this woman.

"Cornmeal...duh."

"Tacklemaster!"

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Yeah, yeah, I know - this is probably some bizarre fantasy involving the Gorton's Fisherman, but we're just not going to go there, ok?
Plus - check out my fish. Yeah, that's right.

Talking In Her Sleep

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

And Now, For The Surf Report.

"Cornmeal...duh."

"Tacklemaster!"

"Watch it!"

"I Don't Care What You Want To Say About Me."

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