Mass Domesticity

Spent the weekend basking in domesticity. Saturday, the new couch was scheduled to be delivered. (The one, according to mom, that homeless people will actually find desireable, I hope). 9:30am the friendly neighborhood delivery guys show up and trade my old nasty couch for a new shiny one. It's nice. Only problem is that I have to keep bar stools and pillows and shit all over it to prevent my sister's hound from funking it up with her dog smell.

On the heels of this life changing event, it was decided that my ghetto hand-me-down-twice-over coffee table was no longer worthy of sharing the living room with my new hotness couch. So Sunday, it was off to Ikea. Score a new coffee table (tho, not the on I origianlly wanted, as the Ikea "in stock checker thingy" on the web site totally lied to me, but I digess....). Home. Assemble. Plant fat ass on couch to test the "kick up the feet" quality of the couch/table combo. Quite nice. Score one for new household products.