Funniness Negates Wrongness
Monday, June 02, 2003
Rifleman has left the building. I am no longer residing in my stylish and exclusive loft in Plano, but have moved to the home of the Dallas Cowboys, Valley Ranch. I guess this means that I've moved into a crime-ridden neighborhood. And that cocaine flows freely. Actually, Valley Ranch is a very nice area north of Las Colinas and south of Coppell in Irving. My place is a down the street from the Cowboy's HQ and, more importantly, only 15 minutes from my place of employ. No more hour-long commute in the morning. No more dealing with the George Bush Turnpike and the perpetually-crumbly Sandy Lake Road.

Due to the (and I don't mean to sound flippant) foreseen demise of my father last week (thanks to all who sent their thoughts and prayers, they are most appreciated, even though, as Jimmy pointed out, they didn't help--In case you hadn't noticed, Jimmy is a heartless bastard and very wrong. But I don't hold that commment against Jimmy--anyone who knew my father would know that he would have appreciated the gallows humor.), I was unable to get my stuff packed. Luckily, several close friends sprung into action Friday night. Linz, Holly, Grace, Josh, Custardstyle and Minotaur came over and helped packed my stuff, but only after I wrestled the stack of Playboys away from the women. That was a weird situation--I had three hot women looking at porn and I was the one that had to put away the magazines--am I a homo? I hope not, even though I had people over packing my shit.

The move went smoothly...I'd had the foresight to hire a moving company and they sent a crew that consisted of the Dallas Mavericks' Dirk Nowitzski (which I'm sure I misspelled), a creepy guy with creepy facial hair, and another guy with "bitch tits" who punished my toilet. We tried in vain to convince Dirk, through carefully planned snippets of conversation, that we were pornographers. Dirk was unfazed, as he shared stories of moving real pornographers. Apparently, real pornographers have boxes full of vibratey things. The only vibratey thing we had was an electric toothbrush. Not very erotic. Unless you have a really disturbed fetish. Using an electric toothbrush on your naughty bits can't be overly-comfortable. Unless you consider your teeth to be naughty bits.

At any rate, everything's moved and the process of unpacking has begun. As soon as it's finished, I'm going to head over to the New Fine Arts XXX store and buy some vibratey things.