New Digs

(Obligatory apologies for nonexistent postings go here_______).

I'm finally established in the new swankienda, over 5 and one half HUNDRED square feet of Prime Houston Rental Realty, with a stove bigger than the one in your cousin Wayne's cabover camper, and a fridge with an egg holder that steadily holds in place what seems to be a metric dozen encapsulated chicken embryos. A metric dozen would be 8, right? I'm OK on dinner plates since a buddy's restaurant went tit-up and he gave me a bundle of a couple of dozen, and through a longstanding campaign of piracy I now have enough mugs and glasses to open my own bar.

The bookshelves have been imported (from the old homestead and from Craigslist), deployed, and populated; the perfect organization though will have to await a certifiable miracle. The tops look stylish, with the hat collection, the violin, and the Lamp From Mars getting nice display space. The kitchen is tooled up with the usual impedimentia - pots, pans, crockpot, blender, panini press (which deserves its own post), and a couple of 50 pound bags of Purina Bachelor Chow (TM).

Rusty Steed has been allotted a prized location near the kitchen table. (More swank, there, it's not as if I have a special table for breakfast, another for dinner, and others yet for second breakfast, elevenses, lunch, tea, and snack. I wouldn't have enough ashtrays, much less linen tablecloths, trivets, coasters and table settings.)

Here, let me give you a tour!

Entering the Casa Ktel, on your left you will see the Library. Be sure to notice the playful objets d'arte cunningly displayed above. In 3 steps you will be entering the stables, home of Rusty, the Trusty Steed. Don't worry, he's completely housebroken.

Turn to your right if you will please, and gaze on the heart and hearth of the household, the kitchen. Please disregard the empty spirits bottles, we've had some temporary help in lately. Ladies, gentlemen, don't push, the quarters are quite confined, due to the primative quality of life generally accorded the kitchen help of the late 20th and early 21st century solitary male of the species (Aside - Don't touch that, you don't know where it's been!). As we leave this humble artifact, testimony to the neverending need for sustanance, allow me to draw your attention to the wall hanging - an outmoded pennon of the disgraced Confederate States of America.

Now, keeping to our left, we find the more contemporary flag of the United States of America, shielding the door to the Sanctum Santorum. Note the luxurious en suite plumbing, and the collection of scented ungulents therein displayed in a futile attempt to attract the female of the species. (I said "Don't touch! We'll wash your hands when we get to someplace clean") Here's the proud bower of the inhabitant, the bedstead. The less said about that the better if you ask me.

His protective coverings are located there, to the left as you gaze upon the tableaux, and on the right hand side you will note his roost, or "private office". You see how it replicates the cave-space in which his garments are stored, but is festooned with cables as was the forest home from which he evolved, according to some scientists, and I for one don't believe that there's been a devil of a lot of "evolution" so called as you wish since he came down from the trees if you ask me. And that table with the cloth and the candles is just unnatural to tell you the unvarnished, Wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw a fit.

So we've almost completed our tour. The sofa on your left (Don't sit, discomfort warning level "tofu" applies) brings us to our last turn in the household, the comfy sofa. Noticce, please, that although the cousiona are cozy, the length is not - just long enough to allow an uncomfortable distance between members of opposing sexes, but short enough that members of the same sexual orientation will feel uncomfortable.

It's been our pleasure having you here, and if you could find it in yourselves to drop a few pence in the basket on your way out it would be appreciated.

On behalf of the National Trust for Preservation of Native Habitats.