Re-Decorating My Life

As you might guess, I'm back inside the safety of my apartment. It turns out it was all some sort of misunderstanding—Lee was on tour with his new band and Camembert was with him, acting as roadie. Sure, it doesn't explain the nasty note telling me to fuck off, but it was more than enough explanation to make me happy. And now that I'm back in, I've got to get this place in better shape.

I was so happy to find a place to stay after leaving my ex-wife's house I never noticed how awful this apartment looks. Sure, it's four walls and a roof, not to mention the great floor that keeps us from falling into the crazy veteran's apartment beneath us, but it lacks panache. So the first thing I did was went out to buy a panache, but it turns out to be some kind of adjective or something instead of the burrito-making appliance I thought it was. Which leaves me wondering how they make burritos.

The walls are a bland egg-white here. Not the natural paint color, but after all the egg fights Lee and I have had, what color can you expect them to be? The yolks run down to the floor and color the carpet, the whites just stay on the walls. I'm thinking anything with a fairly light color will charm the place quite a bit, and if there's a kind of paint that makes walls softer or bouncier and resists cracking eggs it will be a plus.

I suppose the carpet is fine, light brown so it matches virtually any paint color. I believe it's light brown. It was light brown the last time I saw it—picking up some of the cans and candy bar wrappers would help. It may be light brown. Camembert told me when I moved in it was white, but that was too long ago to remember. He also complains he can't vacuum because Lee turned his vacuum into bagpipes, but that was a problem that solved itself as the bagpipes drown out the complaining.

My room is perfect, of course—the first thing I did was glue-and-glitter the walls to liven them up, and Lee's suggestion of black lights was ingenious; now all my white clothes look like neon purple. But I can't spend my redecorating talent on my room alone! I will not rest until the entire house screams "Rok Finger lives here!" The same way I do when women pass by my window.

In Rok Finger's world, of course, form follows function. My method of design follows the scheme, "If it sounds like fun, I say do it." Back when I lived with Arvelyn I had to design according to "color schemes" and "motifs." As a bachelor with no hope of trapping a woman within these walls, I design this place for fun, fun, fun! And sleeping, when necessary.

First step is to rip the carpet out—really, what purpose does it serve? I don't sleep on floors, you plebeians. I'll replace it with linoleum, like the kitchen. Now that fun we have sliding across the floor in socks can be for every room in the house! Except the bathroom, where it's too dangerous to slide around porcelain and crap cans. In there we put natural flooring—a foot of dirt and grass, which is impossible to slip on. Also, it makes it less important if you hit the toilet or not.

Something really needs to be done about these walls, too. Away with them! Walls just close people out and make the place seem smaller. No secrets here in our apartment. At least there won't be once I do away with the walls. Finally I'll be able to tell if Lee and Camembert are talking about me when I'm in the bathroom; or, as it will be known from now on, "the left side of the room."

I'm excited about the re-designing already, and as soon as I tell them, Lee and Camembert will be, too. Or if they come home later than I do, they'll be excited with the results.

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