drunken cleaning fiesta 2003

Of course, my apartment had to get This Bad for me to actually tackle the issue of cleaning it. It’s not dirty, just untidy as hell, as if a small tortoiseshell cat had systematically knocked over every single organizational pile of papers and books I had ever laid out.

Hmm, wait …

So I picked up a bottle of Two-Buck Chuck from Trader Joe’s and have dedicated this evening to getting thoroughly ripped while watching a maudlin flick and cleaning the shit out of this place.

O yeah: the webcam is on too. I think this should be one of my more amusing exercises in stupidity. Maybe I’ll actually get it to a point where I let people come visit. So far, only Brina, Scott and FunkyPlaid have ever seen the interior, and I’ve been here a year in two weeks. Can you tell I’m a little neurotic? Just a little. Teeny-eeny bit.

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I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.