New Housemates= Excessive Cleaning
Megs has moved in. She took one look at the place and started vacuuming almost immediately. I found her scrubbing the shower the first morning she stayed over...like all good women should. When I commented thus she fired back with; ' Now I'm going to start re-arranging the furniture.' She would later recount that my face was a mask of sheer horror, like " The opening of Pandora's Box. All the evils of the world brimming under the surface of my flesh, waiting to erupt". ' You may clean things if you must,' I replied huffily when I could control my seething rage, ' but leave things where they lie.'
The other thing about cleaning up a house is the junk you find. Megs found a copy of Dan Brown's DaVinci Code that I had hurled at the wall some time ago ( lying next to a copy of the equally overrated Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections) and was gathering dust under the couch. The only thing worth mentioning about this piece-of-shit book is that it is part of the Book Crossing program where you leave the book in a public place somewhere and hopefully some dumbass, like Yours Truly, will pick it up and waste five hours reading it instead of...I don't know, learning something useful (eg. Hovercraft Maintenance) or renting pornos. I shall leave the Dan Brown here I think, at e55, where I come to type my musings because they have beer here and a cute bar chick. Perhaps one of these poor bastards will pick up the drivel that is The DaVinci Code and get more enjoyment than I did.