Slap that baby.

I am moved. I no longer live in the clutches of a slumlord. Now I live in a labyrinth of boxes, and I fear I may never find my front door again and David Bowie keeps popping up in tights and stupid hair, offering to show me his skills at fondling glass balls, but at least I gots me internettery, so that I might look at porn and videos of drunk people imitating Jackass, and I'm pretty sure I gots me some cookies, too.

(This is where I say thank you to Marley, Bruce, Tarl, Jared, Josh and Sophie, because you guys are possibly the best people in the world and I want to buy each of you a puppy who poops gold. Special extra thanks to Marley for not hitting anyone with the U-Haul despite the many opportunities we were offered, and to Bruce for buying pizza and not letting me pay, even though I'm gonna sneak a couple twenties into his pocket when we're both at work and he's not looking.)

(Oh, and thanks to the Crazy Lady for putting up withe my shit when we were all done. I heart you long time.)

I like my new place. Even though it's only for a few months, it's already doing my head a world of good, plus my bathroom is the COOLEST.

Now I will sleep for at least a week. Brilliance and talking of monkey-zombies and punching people shall resume then.