Living here with these old guys in this huge house is always an adventure. Angy, my favorite person ever to score a senior-rate room discount, also loves this place with all of it's kitschy thowback goodness. Me, I prefer a little more modern accomodations, but I can't beat the price. And if you get four of five bachelors living together without a woman's touch, sometimes you see interesting things scattered about the Mansion. It's a lot like Graceland, but not nearly as cool.
So with that in mind, I went on a little photo safari around the house today.
This is *not* the ammo box that has been attacking my feet lately. If it were, I'd be driving a wheelchair to work instead of a pickup truck, and I'd be parking a helluva lot closer to the elevator. It makes a nice doorstop, however.
My roommate has a few of these 1960's-era 'Air Purifiers' that he plugs in around the house at regular intervals. Clearly he was into goofy electronics long before Sharper Image came along. But these things are more than useless, because as far as I can tell, all they do is make noise and give the air a noticeable metallic taste. Just like the last flavor the firefighters at Chernobyl experienced before their faces melted.
This calendar is hanging on the wall between the two living rooms. If you look closely, it is displaying the month of November 2001. I pity the next person who wakes up in our house with amnesia. Looking at the carpet and panelling, they'd think they were back in 1975. Of course then they'd see this calendar here and happily only be about five years off.
I think my roommate picked up this state-of-the-art entertainment center at Red Forman's estate sale. And although I haven't seen it yet, word is that he also got one of those vibrating belt thingies that jiggles the fat away as part of the deal, too. Notice the red shag carpet too. Sadly, it's been almost a year, and I still haven't been able to talk a chick into getting nekkid on that carpet. It gives me something to shoot for in 2007.
None of these dusty bottles have moved since I've lived here. I don't know if everyone else here just stopped drinking, or they just forgot about that bar in the second living room. Nobody goes in there anyways--I think it's haunted.
I opened the door to one of the refrigerators that I don't use, and noticed that my roommate had no food in it. At first glance, one would think he lived on shampoo and contact solution.
This is a box of Q-tips I keep in my bathroom. If you read the text closely, there is a stern warning *not* to insert in your ear canal. Ok... Um, isn't that what they're used for? So if not the ear canal, where is one *supposed* to insert them? It makes almost as much sense as every set of car keys ever sold to come with a warning not to insert them in the ignition, because a couple of guys in Jersey had their cars blow up when they did...
That's about all for now. My camera is acting up, and I was about three days too late to capture a photo of the underwear hanging on the gate next to the carport--that was classy. I don't know if that was a Blair Witch-type of thing going on, or somebody just hung them there to dry and forgot about them.
Maybe next time, we'll take a tour of the grounds.