"All I really want is to throw foul things at you. IS THAT SO WRONG?"

There are days when I am eternally grateful for the existence of my little brother; almost everything that comes out of his mouth has the capability to warm my heart and cheer me right the fuck up even when I am irrationally saddened by issues which he has no control over or ability to relate and assist with. Witness, above, he has given me an inspiring title with which to write my (fairly minor) troubles away!
In truth, there hasn't been a lot lately that's been able to stir my general ire ever since Von Butternuts moved out (well, to be more accurate, it was more like "dumped me because I told him to put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and then got himself kicked out after several months when I got fed up with his utter ineptitude at finding another place to live/person to mooch off, his unwillingness to pay rent or clean up after himself, and his general irresponsible assholery"). Details aside, it matters not, as the upshot of that Jerry Springer-worthy saga is that I suddenly find myself with a good bit more time and money on my hands - and really, no one can complain about that! Beyond the time and money, I have the added bonus of finally having privacy again - something which thrills me to absolutely no end! Here is but a partial listing (that will no doubt grow as I get more and more creative) of things that I have done with my newfound privacy:

Using the can with the door open - What a thrill that was! You have not known TRUE CONVENIENCE until you have rolled out of bed first thing in the morning (guts roiling from having eaten prison-quality tacos right before going to bed) and destroyed your restroom without worrying about subjecting anyone to your colonic symphonia's rendition of TacoBell's Cannon in D (and the smell of the subsequent Mexplosion therein). The additional bonus of using the can with the door open being that the smell has plenty of area to dissipate, and you don't even have to worry about stinking up the toothbrush with your fart particles. For the win!

Bringing food wherever I want - No, I don't mean "crackers in my bed." I mean finally being able to eat my goddamn dinner whenever and wherever I want without having to hear Tom make a BFD (big fucking deal) about the fact that he "can't stand the sound of people eating unless he's eating too." Truthfully, the bitching was more annoying than having to eat at the table one room away, but thankfully, I DON'T HAVE TO PUT UP WITH EITHER ANYMORE. And let me tell you, nothing beats a giant sloppy plate of spaghetti and red sauce while watching a Tarantino marathon.

Making smoothies first thing in the morning - Did you know they taste even better if you make them while striding around your house naked? It's true. The naked factor makes everything better.

Not having to "do as I say" - I think this goes with the "bringing food and drink wherever I want" activity, but in general, if there's anyone who had the right to void the warranty on my $1800 mattress, it should have been ME and not Tom with one of his faggy Italian espresso drinks. Unfortunately, most people seem to abide by the "monkey see, monkey do" behavioral model, which means that up until recently, any rule that I wanted people to abide by (despite half of these rules being made out of necessity due to other people's lack of common sense), I had to subject myself to as well. Thankfully, no more! Which means I can (at last) keep my bottle of amaretto by my bed.

Dancing/Practicing poi and fans indoors - The bar room is big, it's got lovely hardwood floors, it's close to the alcohol... so why can't I have at it every once in a while? Really, the ideal thing would be if I had a handsome ballroom dance partner who could teach me a few steps in the privacy of my own home without passing judgment, but as it is, Mr. Mop is good enough at watching and stifling his laughter, and sometimes he brings along his friend Mr. Poop-Scoop as his wingman.

Taking long-ass phone calls wherever I feel like it - There's nothing so nice as being able to take a phone call whenever, wherever, and however long you feel inclined. Especially when it's that phone call from a cute boy that comes on a lazy Saturday morning while he's just started running his weekend errands and called because he just wanted to talk and see how you were doing. Yeah. That phone call. Not having to explain why you were on the phone for more than 10 minutes, and why you sounded nervous and definitely non-cranky (to the point of being almost borderline cute) just adds to the fact that one phone call can make my entire day.

Stinking up the house with funky Chinese cooking - I'm a little garbage disposal. Everybody in my family knows how much I love salted-fish-fried-rice and all the other Chinese peasant-foods (except for chicken feet). Man, is it nice to be able to make all those dishes without having to listen to someone else bitch about the smell. No longer do I have to wait to have my "revenge fishbowling" (retaliation for when asshole housemates fishbowl my house with the smell of cheap weed cut with with tarragon because their dealer was particularly cunning) - now I can fume up the house whenever I damn well want!

Tea and porn - At first I was somewhat dubious... who settles down to a relaxing evening of Earl Grey and DP? But on a whim I tried it, and you know what? Having that nice cup of tea really does class up an evening of otherwise low-quality, grainy, pixellated entertainment. Next time I'm even planning to make cucumber sandwiches to go with it. In-deed.

In conclusion, I AM quite enjoying my time right now... I think I really only have one minor complaint. But as Steve once said, "if the only thing you have to complain about is that you miss Matthew, then life is pretty good."

Further bulletins as events warrant.