My 400 Pound Bookcase

There is this shitty band performing on the PBS. One Republic, or some such. They stink of Coldplay. And they give me the Bad, heeblie-jeeblies. It's cool though. It's broadcast in HD. So they suck almost in real Life.

But that's not what this is about. This is about my 400 pound bookshelf.

And by the way, this here is where my Obligatory Warning of Randomness should be placed. So, well, consider yourself Warned.

On my 400 pound Bookshelf there are stories that aren't bound up in pages that make the Book. Oh, there are plenty of those in my 400 pound Bookshelf, to be sure. Like that one. That one right there that says 'The Baby Book'. The one that told me Everything. Except, why. And that set over there. The ones that have the fancy-pants M and T on them. Good 'ol Sam. He took me down the Mississippi more times than I can recall. Fistbump, Mr. Clements.

Over there is some that Cutie McWifey enjoyed and I have yet to read. It's hard to read much now when it's Summertime.

But, books are books and there are things on my 400 pound bookshelf that tells stories with no type at all. Only, you wouldn't know it if you hadn't been there. My 400 pound bookshelf is clique-y like that. But just ask me. I was there. I'll tell you.

Like those two empty bottles of Olive Oil. That nice lady up at the local Market that night said that her daughter collected interesting looking bottles. So, I kept them for her. By the time I used up the two, and went down the Market, she had been "relived of Duty". I hope she's doin' okay. She was nice.

There is a piece of Frank Lloyd Wright stained glass on the very top. It's really pretty and Organic looking. It also reminds me of the time I smoked a big bunch of Hash with my friend Rollo and Flash in the Frank Lloyd Wright - Cheney House, in Chicago. That was fun. And educational.

There are loose book covers that remind me of nothing other than, I need to tidy up a bit.

The Tater's crayons are waaaaaaaay up on top. I think you can guess why. I get to giggling when I think about why.

There is a painting of a flying kangaroo that my Australian sister-in-law made for me. It pretty much rocks. I mean, it's. a. flying. kangaroo. Nuff said.

The Tater's Play-Doh is also up on a high shelf as well. I think you can guess why. She thinks it's Delicious. I get to giggling when I think about that as well.

There are several decks of cards that say Old Maid and Memory and Go fish.

Every time I get my hands on those cards, I am thrashed, soundly, by the Goat. Also, Sorry. But that is not on my 400 pound bookshelf. We keep that upstairs.

There is a picture of Cutie McWifey and I when we were Young and silly. Now, we're older. And sillier.

Beside my 400 pound bookshelf is the Goat's keyboard. And my guitar. One needs batteries. One needs to be tuned. Badly.

All of these things I dust around and never really pay any mind to. But thanks to this Shitty band, I looked into my 400 pound bookshelf for a spell. I got to giggling a little. My head got a little Wierd and twisted. And now you're reading about it. All 7 of you.

Thanks shitty band on PBS! Thanks for making me look away.

-word.