So, your old pal i am whaleman up and moved over the weekend. That’s right, me and the T got on up outta the casita and found a suitable dwelling in the PHX. It was a long-ass day of moving on Saturday, as we don’t know anyone here and as such can’t sucker anybody into helping us move (even Grandma bailed on us!) and as you may be aware, yer old buddy i am whaleman is a fine collector of stuff (not a collector of fine stuff, of course), though even that’s getting better; less than four years after moving away from Pleasant Ave in a 24-foot truck (and needing more than one load to do it!), we’re down to a 14-footer. I will now accept your plaudits. Thank you, thank you.
Anyway, moving takes some time, and of course the new place doesn’t have the InterWebs and of course there are 54 networks within range but everybody password protects the damn things and as such there is no free internet for i am whaleman. Such a ripoff. So for now, I blog at work. Seriously limiting, that. It is a requirement of my position that I wear clothes, and am, as such, unlikely to blog in my preferred state. You know: The Raw. I hate society and all their “rules”. Ruining my life.
As everybody knows, part of moving involves running all sorts of ridiculous errands that suck up tons of time that you could be spending making your new living place livable. This is especially true if you’ve recently moved to a new state and have been living in a casita and are moving stuff from storage into smaller storage + studio apt and you don’t remember where you packed things because you started packing them a year ago and even if you can remember where things are they’re probably all the way in the back of the 5×10 storage unit and you’ve already been over there one time to pull things out to get to the stupid couch support bar that you stuck into the tub with the Poang chair pieces and fortunately one of the two of you is flexible enough to climb over things and reach through things to find the stupid couch support but you still can’t get your couch set up because of the four bolts that attach the legs to the couch, you have somehow managed to retain precisely one of them so you drive all the way to IKEA to get some more but of course that is the one bolt they don’t keep 10,000,000 of laying around so you eventually find a hardware store and get some bolts and they actually work and now you have a couch but then you have to cut your bedframe down because you bought a super-cheap IKEA bedframe which is actually two twin bedframes which, when attached, will not fit in the bed nook in your new studio apt so you come up with a solution that involves cutting the frame but of course you don’t have a saw so you go to Sears. And then you see this:
The lesson here: never go to Sears, kids. Unless you want to be a Tool.
That was all hypothetical, by the way.
Except for the Sears part.