Adam Lennard is living—or sleeping—proof of the power of the subconscious. Generally even-tempered and pleasant, at night Lennard becomes a much different kind of guy, chatting about everything from long-forgotten favorite childhood sweets to ducks on swings. Luckily for the rest of the world, Lennard’s wife, Karen Slavick-Lennard, has started a blog chronicling her husband’s midnight mumblings.
Here are some examples of Lennard’s nighttime conversations:
“I think my feet are turning to jelly. Can’t stand up straight anymore. Feel like a weeble.”
“Bouncing round the toadstool. It’s a gnome jump-off for those little buggers in their red hats.”
“You can tell that turkey when it comes back here that it’s not welcome. You tell it gooooood.”

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