I’m going to live in an RV
June 3, 2009
…so I can cart all my belongings around with me forever and ever and never have to move again.
OR I’m going to force THE HUSBAND OF THE PRESENT* to rejoin the military, where they send basically the Delta Force of movers over to your house to swarm all over it like a bunch of locusts (except they pack things instead of eating them.) and then they also unpack it at the other end. GLORIOUS. In fact this is such a great perk that I don’t understand why recruiting commercials don’t feature it heavily.
“STRONG. ARMY STRONG. ALSO WE’LL MOVE YOUR SHIT.”
“WE’LL MOVE YOU AND BUY YOU A PAIR OF PANTS WITH YOUR NAME ON THE BUTT. THE UNITED STATES NAVY: WHY THE HELL NOT?”
I just moved (you know… so I could live in the same apartment as my HUSBAND OF THE PRESENT) and it was the worst. THE WORST. I won’t even detail how awful, because you’ve moved a few times in your life. YOU KNOW IT SUCKS.
To illustrate how terrible it was, here is a video of two camels in a small car. They are making angry noises. CAMELS ARE AWESOMELY GROUCHY:
Man… that makes me laugh. Can you imagine the process of cramming two cranky camels into a passenger car? THAT IS ONE BRAVE OR EXTREMELY FOOLHARDY BEDOUIN.
Anyway, moving. TERRIBLE.
*…we successfully got ourselves married off. I find it sort of awesome when people say “Congratulations!” as though it was some kind of tremendous feat like winning the California lottery or defeating polio.