Good old bed.
Climbing into your own bed after a long aul’ day.
Nothing better, is there?
I go to bed on a Sunday, filled with the dread of Monday, but comforted by the fact that I’m being a good boy and going to bed early, so, all going to plan, will be fresh as a daisy in the morning.
How times have changed. I remember as a child wanting to stay up as late as possible on a Sunday night, trying to ignore that Monday was nearly here and it was time to go back to school. I’d try stay up, in denial, watching telly with the parents, but the veritable death knell was the Heartbeat theme song. A classic Sunday evening TV show. As soon as I heard that tune, I knew the end was nigh.
Now I’m older, it’s the end of the late Spanish football match that signals the end of the weekend.
I shave on Sunday evenings before bed. Shaving at night means not having to shave in the morning. A little lesson for any gentlemen out there looking for a solution to their early morning shaving woes.
Brush the teeth and off to bed.
Now to simply drift off into a lovely sleep.
A lovely, relaxing sleep.
Seems so simple.
[Enter Mark's Brain]
Brain: Hey Mark!
Mark: Ah Brain, not tonight. Please not tonight. I’ve gone to bed early and really want to sleep right now. Sit this one out. Please.
Brain: Hey, do you remember that song ‘Gasolina’ by Daddy Yankee? That was a funny one wasn’t it? One of those songs where nobody knows the words, but you all still sing along anyway, y’know? Then it’s so catchy and you can’t get it out of your head, despite not knowing any of the lyrics. Funny isn’t it?
Mark: You are such a fucking arsehole, Brain. Just let me sleep.
Brain: AYALLY HOOT DELA GASOLINA! TALIBAN GASOLIIINA!
Mark: Oh for fuck’s sake.
Brain: DELACANTELA GASOLINA! TALIBAN GASOLIIINA!
Mark: They’re definitely not saying ‘Taliban’ anyway.
Brain: Well what are they saying then?
Mark: I don’t know, I don’t speak Spanish! I don’t even want to know. I don’t care.
Brain: Google it.
Mark: I’m not Googling the lyrics to Daddy Yankee when I’m trying to sleep. I refuse.
Brain: You’ll be sorry when you’re asked about it in a quiz sometime.
Mark: It’s a risk I’m willing to take.
Brain: Like that time in Junior Cert Geography where you took the risk of not studying Oxbow Lakes the night before the Christmas test?
Mark: That was so long ago and didn’t even count for anything.
Brain: What came up on the exam again?
Mark: Oxbow fucking lakes.
Brain: Yep, you big fucking idiot. You even looked right at the Oxbow notes the night before and decided not to bother reading them. Remember how angry you were when you saw the question?
Mark: Got a few marks for the diagram, in fairness.
Brain: Oh yeah, Jesus, I’m surprised you didn’t win a Nobel prize for that one, Van Gogh.
Mark: Are you done yet? Can I sleep now? It’s getting to the stage where if I don’t fall asleep soon it’ll no longer be an early night. It’ll be a standard sleep.
Brain: Isn’t it annoying that burglars have ruined balaclavas for the rest of us? You can cover the rest of your body up with warm clothes, but the face is freezing. I bet there was a time when everyone wore balaclavas without any criminal motivation.
Mark: That is annoying, in fairness.
Brain: Yeah. They’re probably itchy though.
Brain: Like an Usher song in here tonight, eh?
Brain: Hey, remember the time you were talking to that girl in the lift in work and then as you were getting out you got confused between saying “See you in a bit” and “See you later” and ended up telling her you’d “See her in a late”? Oh man, that was stupid. You’d better hope you never have to deal with her in work again. She’ll definitely remember what a big stupid bumbling idiot you are. SEE YOU IN A LATE.
Mark: I bet she didn’t even notice.
Brain: She definitely noticed.
Mark: That probably only happened because I was tired from you keeping me up all night, which you clearly fucking love doing.
Brain: On a more emotional and completely unrelated note, remember that girl you loved before? Then you broke up? That’s a shit one, isn’t it?
Mark: Oh fucking hell.
[Enter Mark's heart]
Heart: Did someone mention the girl? Did they? What about her? Are you going to get her back? Get her back Mark, you shit.
Mark: This is not the time, Heart. Can’t we do this when I’m drunk and on the way home from somewhere on my own? You love talking about her then. Or on the bus somewhere and listening to a song that reminds us of her? Or even when we hear about someone else with the same name as her? Just not when I’m trying to sleep. Not tonight.
Heart: Why don’t you turn up at her doorstep in a nice suit and a big bouquet of flowers. AND A BIG DIAMOND RING.
Mark: That’d probably make her never speak to me ever again.
Heart: Have you not seen films? They love that shit, women. And you love her.
Mark: I don’t love her.
Heart: I can confirm that you do.
Mark: Fucking hell. Could we not have moved on at this stage?
Heart: Ah, remember her cute laugh?
Mark: I remember.
Heart: And how you could always rely on her honest opinion on your new clothes purchases?
Mark: Yes, I fucking remember.
[Enter Mark's Penis]
Penis: HEY MARK, REMEMBER HER ARSE? THAT WAS ONE SWEET BOO-TAY! HOT DIGGITY DAWG.
Mark: Penis, you’re the last thing I need right now. I’ve already had Brain and Heart yapping away at me.
Penis: YEEEAAAH, SHE SURE HAD SOME SWEET JUNK IN THAT TRUNK.
Mark: I’m not arguing.
Penis: WANNA PLAY WITH ME NOW?
Mark: Not now buddy, I’m trying to sleep.
Heart: Aw, remember how cute she was when she was asleep?
Mark: Ah, you’re back again.
Brain: TALIBAN GASOLIIIINA!
Mark: Oh fucking hell.
Penis: TITS! I LOVE TITS! CAN YOU PLAY WITH ME NOW?
Heart: Do you think I’ll ever feel normal again, Mark?
Brain: THE VENGABUS IS COMIN’! AND EVERYBODY’S JUMPIN’! NEW YORK TO SAN FRANCISCO… a something something… DISCO!
Mark: Please, just let me sleep, all of you. I’m already past the stage of getting a decent night’s sleep.
Penis: I’M TOO EXCITED TO SLEEP! BLOWJOBS! PLAY WITH ME NOW!
Heart: Wouldn’t mind a bit of spooning right now, I have to say.
Brain: Do you think David Beckham should have played in Europe for another couple of seasons before heading out to America?
Mark: Oh fucking hell. Alright Penis, you’ve got five minutes, and that’s all you’re getting.