FYI, The Bob is a very restless sleeper. And by restless, I mean one step short of sleeping with a rabid lemur who's hopped up on meth and snorting Pixi-sticks (on that note, I've been told that sleeping in the same bed as me is like sleeping with a tiny, drunken prizefighter).
He is constantly moving. Which usually translates into constantly kicking me. In order to end the ceaseless kicking, I usually end up having to literally move him into a position where he can still move but not leave bruises on my legs and back. And really, Sleeping Bob might as well be Dead-Body Bob for how difficult this is to achieve.
The best nights, however, are the ones where he talks in his sleep. The Bob usually has some hilariously random things to say when he's sleeping. The fun part is that he'll usually respond if you talk to him at this point.
B: What the FUCK?
Me: (Waking up out of what was a dead sleep) WHAT? What is it? What's wrong?
B: Did you see that?
Me: See what?
B: Never mind, it was just a watermelon...
Me: A watermelon?
B: It was looking at me funny... *Snore*
The best example I have of The Bob's crazy-ass sleep-talking happened one night when I was up late one night Stumbling through the Internet. I was already giggly from random pictures of Jedi kittens and watching Red Vs. Blue clips, when this happened...
B: (Sounding pissed and pointing angrily) What the hell are they doing?
Me: Huh? What are who doing?
B: Them... There... What are they doing?
Me: (Not entirely sure which direction this was going to go) I dunno. What does it look like they're doing?
B: They're dancing!
Me: Okay... Who are--
B: Around a testicle!
Me: Wait, what?
B: They're dancing around a testicle!
Me: Um... Okay...
B: Dancing testicles... *Snore*
Me: You fucking confuse me...
P.S.: Never, EVER Google "Dancing testicles" to find a Facebook-safe, cutsie pic to go with your blog-post entitled "Attack of the Dancing Testicles." It won't end well, and your eyes might burn themselves out of their sockets. Just an FYI.