Since I’ll be moving into my new place soon, I’ve been busy reading up on all the latest interior design tips. They’re really quite helpful. For instance, did you know you should avoid bright colours in the bedroom? Apparently, people find them very distracting. Good thing I read that article before I bought the day-glo paint. To make sure that no one else makes these kinds of mistakes, I thought it would be a good idea to share some of my research with you:

DO: Consider installing a nicely finished hardwood floor. Hardwood is a highly desirable feature in most new homes and is considered a good investment.

DON’T: Try to save money by installing your own driftwood floor. While you may be going for that rustic look, the smell of dead fish and the splinters far outweigh the kitsch factor.

DO: Think about installing a decorative front door with a small glass insert. Since this is the first thing most visitors see, it’s a great way to make a good impression.

DON’T: Install one of those cool automatic sliding glass doors like at the supermarket. Sure, it may seem like a good idea. But the first time an elderly woman on a Rascal motorized vehicle wanders into your living room and asks where the “goddamn peas” are, you’ll realize the error of your ways.

DO: Update the kitchen with the latest upscale appliances.

DON’T: Go for that “retro” look by taking out the kitchen all together and putting in a wood-burning stove.

DO: Consider installing a luxury shower.

DON’T: Install a toilet inside the shower because you think it will be a “real time saver.” Though this is true, people may be too narrow minded to appreciate it, and then you’ll have to spend a lot of money to have it removed. I mean, it’s not your fault they can’t recognize a great idea when they see one. Sure it takes a while to get used to the idea of washing your hair while you’re sitting on the john, but you do eventually get used to it. Really. You know what, fuck you all. Ten years from now everyone’s gonna have a toilet in their shower. Then who’s gonna be laughing, huh? That’s right. Me!

Uh, anyway, I hope you found these tips helpful. I need to get back to throwing stuff away. . . I mean “packing.”

Yesterday at the office, the subject of death came up. Now, how this came to be is really none of your business. But we finally came around to the question of how we each want to die. Most people said they wanted a peaceful death, surrounded by loved ones. Me, I don’t really care how I die. As long as it’s not a slapstick death.

I mean, think about Sonny Bono. He was a successful entertainer, a politician. But you know what people think about now when they think of Sonny Bono? Yeah, the guy who skied into a tree. Yes, it’s tragic, but you can’t help but smirk when you hear about it. So that’s my only concern: dying in some manner where if you added a goofy sound effect like a slide whistle, you’d have people rolling in the aisles.

So here is a list of ways in which I do not want to die:

1. Slipping on a banana peel.

2. Falling down an open manhole in the street.

3. Getting wacked in the head by a guy holding a ladder as he quickly turns around to see what’s going on.

4. Being smothered by a cream pie.

5. Jumping out of the way of a speeding car, just in the nick of time, only to turn around and see a semi truck coming at me from the opposite direction.

6. Falling off a highrise buidling and landing face first into patch of wet cement.

7. Driving an old covertible car off the highway and into a barnful of chickens.

8. Having a guy poke me in the eyes with his two fingers. Then as I put my hands over my eyes, he punches me in the stomach. When I cover my stomach, he hits me over the head with a ball peen hammer. And this goes on until I collapse and die from internal bleeding.

9. Braking just before my car goes off a cliff, leaving it teetering on the edge. Unbuckling my seatbelt to carefully get out, when a butterfly lands on the hood, and the vehicle slowly tips over and plummets into a ravine below.

10. Fighting somebody on the top of a speeding train. Knocking him down and lauging at him as I cock my gun to fire the fatal shot. He looks behind me and smiles. I turn around to see the top of a tunnel smashing into my face.

If you’ve seen me lately, you may have noticed a certain glow in my face. Well, honestly, it’s more of a nervous sweat. But the signs are all there. Yes, my friends, I’m in escrow. In just 30 days, I’ll be the proud owner of my own little bundle of joy: a one-bedroom condo with 1.5 baths and a built-in alarm system.

When I was renting, I used to throw money down the toilet every month. But not anymore. I discovered that throwing money down the toilet is actually wasteful. And when you top it off with the cost of rent, it’s actually pretty stupid. I don’t even know why I started throwing money down the toilet. I think I heard someone talk about it once and I thought it sounded like fun. And it was. You start with small bills — singles and fives — and then you work your way up to tens and twenties. Before you know it, you’ve got a small fortune plugging up your pipes. Especially with these fucking low-flow toilets.

But that’s all over now. It’s time to go through all the crap that comes with buying a home: the inspection, the appraisal, the documents to sign (initial here, here and here, full signature here and here), and trying to decipher the lender code (I’m thinking about a 5/1 arm io, whatever the fuck that is).

Yeah, this home buying stuff has taken a lot out of me. And to think it’s only been three days. But I know it will all be worth it in the end. I’ll have a place to call my own, and I won’t be wasting so much cash. Speaking of which, I wonder how good the toilets are in my new place. I’ve got a load of twenties here that are just begging for a free ride.

I’ve never really believed in therapy. It just seems so insincere to me. They say they want to help you, but then they have no problem cutting you off when your fifty minutes are up. So I’ve avoided therapists like the plague. Actually, I’ve avoided the plague more, since I’ve never actually had the plague. It’s really just a figure of speech.

Anyhow for the longest time, I’ve had this problem with pears. When I eat them, I feel all these aches and pains all over my body. At first, I thought it was just some kind of food allergy, but then I went to a hypnotherapist and found out the real story:

Apparently, when I was younger, my mother used to put a dozen pears into a burlap sack and then beat me with them until I was covered with pear juice. Why she did this, I’m not sure. But now just the smell of pears makes me feel pain. So that explained the pear problem. But I had no idea why bananas give me stomach aches. Until I visited that hynotherapist again:

No, I wasn’t beaten by a banana when I was a child. That would be hard to believe. Actually, my father used to punch me in the stomach while he was wearing a banana costume. See, he was one of the original Fruit of the Loom guys. And I guess sometimes he’d get drunk and put on the old costume. Then he’d tell me to punch him in the stomach as hard as I could. And I would. But then it would be his turn. And since I didn’t have a foam costume on to protect me, I’d usually end up collapsed on the floor with my father laughing at me. Just that bloated head of his poking out of that dirty, worn out banana costume, laughing, laughing. . . laughing . . . Yeah, those were some great times. I could really go for a banana right now.

Hey, have you seen this new HBO show called Entourage? Well, if you haven’t, you have got to check it out. See it’s about this guy who becomes famous and lives with all his friends in a big house. Crazy.

The first episode was insane. Get this: All the guys hook up with these really hot chicks and then their celebrity friend buys a bunch of expensive stuff. Wicked, I know. But in the second episode, it really got crazy. See, this time, the celebrity guy buys a Bentley and then they all end up having sex with some really attractive women.

But the third episode is where things really start picking up. See, this time, it looks like the celebrity guy’s new movie is going to bomb. But everything turns out okay. Then he goes on a talk show and ends up shtuping his ex-girlfriend in her dressing room.

Well, it’s only a few hours now until I get to find out what happens in the next episode. I can’t wait. From what I understand, he buys some expensive stuff, and they meet some cute girls. But I have no idea what they’re going to do with them. I’m putting my money on the humping. But you never know.

Well, I finally broke down and ordered something from Overstock.com. I’ve really been putting it off since I hate their commercials so much.

In case you’re not familiar with these clever spots, they feature this woman with a foreign accent saying she’s just discovered “the big O.” I kid you not. She actually says “the big O.” That’s almost as bad as those Herbal Essences shampoo commercials: “a totally organic experience.” Ugh. I still cringe when I think about those.

Anyhow, so I bought something from “the big O.” A Panasonic 5.8 Ghz cordless phone, to be exact. It arrived fairly quickly. And when I got it, I immediately plugged it in in my living room to charge it up for a full six hours.

The next day, I moved the phone into my bedroom. I actually had to climb under my bed to plug the thing in (yes, I still fit under there). Finally, it was time to test it. So I picked up the phone to call myself and leave a message. Seemed to be working fine. The dialing speed was a little retarded, but other than that, it was pretty nice. As I was leaving the message, I decided to try to walk around and see how the reception was. But as soon as I left my room, the fucking thing lost its connection. What a piece of shit. I replaced the reciever back on its charger and tried again. Worked fine in my room, but as soon as I walked out, phzzt, nothing.

Motherfucking Overstock.com. I can’t believe they’re selling worthless pieces of crap like this. I mean, the phone should at least work, shouldn’t it?

Before I packed the phone up to send it back, I decide to check out the instruction manual — you know, just for laughs. In the trouble-shooting section, they tell you to check to see that the battery is fully charged. Duh. They also say to make sure the base unit is receiving power. Duh. I plugged it into the outlet myself. Of course it’s getting power. . . or is it?

I went back into my room and turned on the light. Yeah, the base unit’s light was on. Everything seemed to be fine. Then I thought of something. I flipped the wall switch to turn off the light. The power on the base unit went out, too. Motherfucker! I plugged the phone into the electrical outlet connected to the wall switch! How retarded was that?

So I plugged the phone into a different outlet and now it works just fine. Aren’t you glad you took the time to read this? Well, think about how long I suffered to type it up. Bleh.