Countdown: Nine Days (Movin' Out)

All of the free, non-matching furniture I worked to collect from the streets through the years is being returned to the wild. And when I say, "collect from the streets," I should point out this was back when "bed bugs" were a fictional part of a good night rhyme told to children, and before I knew they are an actual nuisance that is impossible to kill.

And when I say, "impossible," I am of course failing to mention the common, most humane method of destroying pests: turn PBS on and let them die of boredom.


So farewell giant square-shaped table that needed refinishing. I'll miss the way you used to hide my gas bills under placemats


Farewell hot pink futon that was often covered with a leaning tower of wigs. You weren't free, but the demonstration from the Russian salesman who jumped on you to show durability was worth every penny.


So long wood-framed loveseat with light-weight cushions made of upholstery-covered foam. The kind of foam used to insulate electronics. I liked you the most because you made it look like people could sleep on you, but in order to fit end-to-end they had to tuck their knees into their chest. And then minutes later they would fall off.