My Fellow Inebriates,
When the movers took us out of the truck (Scary, Fluffy, Chihuahua, the whole gang of animals involved in smooth bedtimes) we were all mad as hell. My dad had promised us a ride in the car—in the front seat, no less. He didn’t even notice when the movers grabbed the laundry basket in which we were hanging out and loaded it with the boxes. OMG! It was dark and bumpy and we didn’t get to look out the window on the way. It was kind of like being kidnapped. I couldn’t tell you how to get back to the old LBHQ. It’s like the place is gone.
The new digs are cool. The only thing missing—not kidding—is a liquor cabinet. After my mum put away all her kitchen shit, she concluded that not one shelf remained for booze. So we are really in the market for a liquor cabinet now.
Maybe this one? It would be educational for the kids, right?