Hashtagged as hazardous sitting back in the La-Z-Boy Reclina-Rocker

I failed to notice the innocuous warning label that clearly stated the severe risk of succumbing to a deep comatose state instantaneously (particularly those people affected with narcolepsy - such as yours truly) when just barely plopping tushy on the edge of cushioning which automatically triggered a mechanism to suction the entire buttucks of mine (once upon a time approximately at least a half century ago both left and right cheek could fit within palm of average sized man who piloted a plane) got linkedin to fatal impact forcing entire body of mine to collapse into an inescapable force field analogous to a black hole, (a region in space where matter so densely packed that gravitational pull incredibly strong, preventing anything, not even light, from escaping). Whether imagined or yours truly in the throes in a hypnotic state, nevertheless I actually experienced a palpable physical tug, an irresistible omnipotent sensation holding me in a vice grip likened to a full nelson and being rather wimpy (imagine an adult sized long haired pencil necked geek) could not escape the clutches of a force no match for heavy duty wrestling. Therefore an impossible mission arose to break free and clear and I passively surrendered and quite exhausted from the major tussle descended into what seemed like an infinite abys where floaters resembling chariots of fire rode away from my peripheral vision as well a kaleidoscope of multifarious and multitudinous shifting shapes transported me into another dimension of space and time (that solely existed within my subconscious) appeared to enshrine me into an otherworldly webbed wide world where transmogrification of nattering nabobs of nativity foo fighting beastie boys vied for preeminence racing at lightspeed analogous to imagining traveling alone within an interstellar universe. A ghost in the machine rendered the innocuous piece of furniture blindsided, haunted and spellbound with the twittering uber spirit of Harvey Specter who pulled my stilted rump all the way to Schenectady (approximately twenty six months ago, yet whose sinister visage clear as day) for no apparent rhyme nor reason and instructed me to drive to the nearest ATM machine to process all the cash withdrawn from the Trappe, Pennsylvania branch of Citizens Bank and convert legal tender (mostly a wad of Benjamins) into bitcoin despite the fact the money once fed into the Automated Teller Machine (at the MP gas station in Rahns, Pennsylvania), would be forever irretrievable as I quickly discovered upon my figurative rude awakening, and felt myself to be in a stupor whereat this body electric of mine (not fully conscious) could not shake off nightmarish torpor as a cascade of sweat poured out of every square inch of skin, which infernal unforgettable living nightmare shook me all night long as a visage of a woman with American thighs found me thunderstruck with misery four past midnight, where fiendish ghouls under the dome of mine noggin envisaged surreal highway to hell attended, and accompanied by The Traveling Wilburys. No surprise I awoke in a cold dripping sweat despite the unbearable hazy, hot and humid meteorological and stifling conditions affecting the all purpose room in the one bedroom apartment we (the wife plus this husband, whom she considered her ball and chain these last twenty nine plus years) called Highland Manor apartment our home for the past eight years, and most likely the place both of us will breathe our last dying breath whereat the shining beam of forensic specialists felt at their while traipsing where a cordon of crime tape delineated and defined the dead zone.