sleepyhead
Garment-dyed, heavyweight cotton T-shirt with a relaxed fit and a direct-to-garment print made with Oeko-Tex™ certified inks. It's pre-shrunk, so no need to worry about shrinkage. To avoid any fading or cracking of the print simply follow our wash care instructions.
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…
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.