Chez peenee

Of course, I could always post bitter, bitter news flashes about the morons I work with, but who wants to hear about that? I'm sure you all have your own moron stories and while I'm sure they're all fascinating, we need to remember this blog is about me, right?

So instead of caviling about the pig who leaves her oatmeal-incrusted bowl and spoon in the sink all day, every fucking day (or she did until I threw them away behind her back on Friday) I've decided to concentrate on happy thoughts. And since my happy thoughts tend to comprise R Man, naked guys and decorating and since the first two seem to be pretty thoroughly covered here, I've decided to start a new feature called Chez peenee of the things I like about the decorating I've done around the old homestead here.

And what better place to begin than the toilet? The downstairs powder room, to be both precise and delicate. I've already documented my passion for thrift stores and over the years of hunting and gathering there, I began collecting the aluminum serving pieces that were so popular in the 50's and 60's. Eventually I wound up with several hundred of them. Regardless of what R Man says, it was not a sickness, they were just cheap and I could usually count on finding one or two in pretty much any junk store, no matter how slender the pickings were otherwise. Still, several hundred trays and dishes tend to clog the living space. The solution? Paint the bathroom purple and velcro them to the walls. All of them.

First-time guests to our house always come out of the potty with the most astonished look on their faces. It's very amusing.

One of my faves is the little ferris wheel our dear friends Cow Queen and Kebbin sent. My dream is to fill the little cars with those fancy guest soaps and then never use them, just like my granny.

John's boyfriend Dan claims being exposed to that much aluminum while peeing can cause Alzheimers, but he worries too much.