Furnication

I know it's a bad pun. It may be the worst one I've ever made. I was trying to combine "furniture" and "fornication" in a deft move to copy the Red Hot Chili Peppers. In the same way there's no way I could pull off playing bass nude, I was unable to pull off this pun. On the upside, I'm pretty sure that being bad with puns makes me a better person.

As the 3 people who read this know, I'm about to move to what is referred to only as "the District" by Washington insiders. In this move I am forced to buy new furniture or sleep, eat, and perform all other domestic activities on the floor. I'm pretty sure the equation the following law governs my situation:

No Furniture = No Co-ed Domestic Activities

As a result, I am now in a soul crushing dilemma. I am forced to decide whether I am the type of guy who buys terrible, cheap-chic, trendy Ikea furniture or, in the alternative, the effeminate, just-a-hair-shy-of-cool, pre-packaged lifestyle furniture from Rooms to Go. Currently, Rooms to Go is winning based entirely on finance options and laziness.

Loyal readers, you may wonder why I don’t just keep my old furniture? Why waste time and money on stuff you won’t see 14 hours a day? Well, the truth is that I have some pretty bad furniture as it is. I’m pretty sure the following law governs my current situation:

Current Furniture = Co-Ed Domestic Activities Only With Blind and / or Masochistic Individuals

Mostly I’m tired of spending my leisure hours on a futon. I hate futons. At no point in my life have I ever said “Wow, I need a piece of furniture that is designed to be both a sofa and a bed, but is entirely incapable of performing either function.” I’ve never had a woman walk into my apartment, give me a “come hither” stare and say “nice futon.” I don’t know if that combination of events has or will ever occur. Maybe in a Berkley dorm-room.

I’ll keep you posted on the furniture hunt.