This is a view from the outside of the door to my bedroom. Several things in this photo need explanation so I'm just going to rattle them off rapid fire. I live in the basement because my sisters, who had shared a room, split the two upstairs bedrooms when I went to college. Since the basement is rather large, my dad built me a wall to give me some privacy. (I installed the door myself bitches!)
The rest can be explained by my sister being a crazy person. The bed to the left is hers. The reason she has abandoned her actual bedroom is because she can't stand our (legitimately obnoxious) birds. Now, you may notice that there is a sheet and a shirt shoved into the crack between the wall and ceiling. My sister has a psychotic aversion to light while sleeping, and I tended to stay up much later than her while at home. In spite of this fact, she has chosen to put her bed right outside my door (instead of anywhere else in our enormous fucking basement).
This is the view inside my room. You can already tell that I have a ton of crap and am pretty okay with it being just about anywhere.
I also like to collect things...
Strange things. When I was a little kid I was obsessed with cats (still am). Thus I have cat figurines.
This is my pimpin' train set.
And my pimpin' pile of hockey that smells like sweaty abortion.
I also have a ton of shit on my walls. Here is all my Bills stuff...
And my Sabres stuff. Yes, that's every ticket to every game I've ever been to.
This is the narrow path back to my sleeping area. The narrowest point is between the desk and the hexagonal end table and measures 10." So certain porn stars would not fit into my room.
The award I won in in-line hockey by playing a game based on hustling to make up for my lack of hockey sense. I once chased a guy down on a breakaway from behind the opposition net. I'm fairly confident no one in the league actually knows my name because everyone just calls me "Crash." It is well earned.
And a similar award I won in high shool for being a team player to a fault. I tried out for, and was cut from bowling twice before making the team, and only started once (in which I bowled a career high 600 series). I also pitched for the baseball team in my only year of trying out, compiling a 2-0 record with a 1.75 era and fielding 1.000 in about a dozen relief appearances. Kind of hard to rack up saves when you win by an average of 16-3 (not an exagerration).
My idea board, six feet by four feet of klan-esque whiteness. You'll notice that there is a certain lack of organization. And yes, I promise "First Grade Bus Penis" will be a blog entry in the near future.
It's not so much that I have a weird aversion to sunlight (I do) as it is that I have an eastern exposure and tend to go to bed at 7 AM. The top strip of duct tape covers the one part of the blanket that isn't doubled up, and the other holds it to the wall.
This is the greatest jigsaw puzzle ever hanging above my bed. When I picture the Wiccan Goddess, this is what I see.
My wall of Jeanneret and t.A.T.u. quotes.
This is where the magic happens. Cat not included. I have a king size comforter for a twin bed. Best idea ever. It's like swimming in a sea of soft and fluffy.
This is where the rest of the magic happens. I bought this chair for $2 at a garage sale. It was missing a wheel, which I replaced using duct tape and one of the wheels that I did not want to use for that black ottoman. About this time, you're probably wondering why there's a towel duct taped to the right arm. Well...I tend to lean on that arm and put my feet up on the bed. I did this so often that I pinched a nerve in my back/arm and started experiencing some numbness. So now instead of leaning on the hard wood, I lean on the softer towel. I'm classy, I know.
My badass workspace.
This is my ottoman. You do not want to know what is in the ottoman. The rope behind the ottoman should give you some clue.
Okay, let me explain. Basically from birth, I have had a litany of problems with my nose. As a kid they thought I had allergies, then they thought I had some sinus retardation, then they had no clue. I've been on pills, chewables, and nose sprays and nothing seems to work. My nose runs a lot...like all the time. So it winds up making me look like I masturbate more than what is humanly possible.
Holy shit tidy cat! What's in them?!
And finally, every good room needs zombie protection. That is a little league baseball bat and a three D-cell maglight. I call it the minority beater because it looks like something a cop would club brown people with.
So there's my room where I do all my thinking. I hope you enjoyed.