It has found me on the floor once again. If you would have been there, which would be curious by itself, you would have been able to correct me. As the lazy bastard that you were, you didn’t show up again. What you could have said, would have been somewhere in the spirit of this:
“The floor would have been too good for your ass, you filthy sod. You slept on two cushions, originating from a luxury leather couch that was missing from our communal reality. At the head of this comfortability, there was your bag, serving as a headrest. On top of all this, you also had an old military sleeping bag where you laid your leather jacket over to provide maximum comfort.”
My answer to your high pitched rant would be that I did in fact sleep rather well, or by using a more common phrase that would have been better fitting but higher on the stereotypical factor, like a brick. Done some chillin’. Beer, beer, beer, some weed, a bread with cold sausage and one with egg to end it all up on a bright note. I will have to learn to skip. The dude who slept next to me, just noticed that I was gone. This, while in fact, I’m already a couple of towns further. Traveling again, by train. Not by plane. Why not by plane, I wonder. I could go way further by plane. To the edge of the horizon, where the sheep are purple in the morning glow and the trees are dripping towards Australia as they melt away from a never seen center of a Nordic glacier. Boobies.