So I moved out of Hardin. I loaded up my truck (or in this case, Cobalt) and moved to the Beverly Hills of Texas: Nacogdoches.
I haven't had a chance to move my bed here yet since I don't know anybody with a truck that's willing to move shit for me out of the kindness of their heart, so I bought an air mattress. A wise investment, I thought at the time of purchase, but that seems to not be the case at all. I can't find an air pump that fits the hole on the mattress. So now the air mattress resides in the corner of my very sparsely furnished room, deflated along with my hopes of getting a good night's sleep in the next few weeks.
My room looks like a homeless man lives there. There's a pile of clothes in the corner. Some folded, most not. I haven't had a chance to move a dresser either and the previous occupant of the room still has a lot of his shit in the closet. No hurry or anything, RICHARD. There's a weight bench that I can't even pretend with a straight face belongs to me 'cause if it did, that's where my clothes would be. Might as well get some use out of it.
There's also a makeshift bed fashioned out of a Steelers' blanket, two pillows and a comforter. That's right. I'm a grown man who is sleeping in what basically amounts to a man-nest. Maybe I don't want to use the word "man-nest." Sounds a little gay. You know, I thought things would go a little something like real bed: inflatable woman, inflatable bed: real woman. So far they aren't working out that way.
I'll fix it, though. Thanks for reading a really boring post. Stay tuned to see what kind of wacky situations I get myself into here in the "oldest town in Texas." Probably none, but I'll make something up. Like the time I kissed a girl. Wooooo......
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4 comments:
Darnit DB, I just love your blog. Can't get enough. So I feel a little bad about something I did last night - I sort of unknowingly contributed to a homeless, high, drunk, native american dude getting kicked out of a pizza joint. So not my fault.
Oh and don't feel bad about being a step above homeless. My now roommate Matt once spent like 2 months living in the corner of my apartment before we moved to a place where he had his own room. Seriously. In the corner. He had a bed and a little dresser and everything. In the corner. Of a high-trafficked room.
first of all, fuck all the homeless bastards in America...and abroad for that matter.
second of all, don't lie---his name is ricardo and is your latin lover. you don't really want that guy to get the last of his belongings because then it will really be the end of your relationship with him and his latin balls...
DCLW, don't feel bad. Native Americans should be used to getting kicked out of places by now.
Kenny, don't be jealous.
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