Manic Monday

Brian moved out yesterday. I've already moved most of my shit into his room and (if I can use an analogy) if my old living arrangments were a handjob, this new space is a three-day orgy with all of your favorite celebrities. I'll include some pictures of what I've done with the place on Thursday or Friday.

I went to an Aeon mall today and bought some Shamoji paper, which is the really thin stuff that is used in Japanese doors. Someone who had my room decided it would be a good idea to punch out all of the paper, probably under the influence of alcohol, leaving me with a three-hour job on my hands. I fixed both doors, cleaned my tatami mats, and hung all of my maps, pictures, and postcards on the walls.

My roommate voiced his concern about me moving into the room, but he's way too much of a pussy to do anything about it. He just made some little sarcastic comments (nervously laughing the whole time) about how since I had been here longer I was entitled to it. I'm not dumb enough to respond to something like that because it would only lead to a lot of whining, Aussie-style. He can have my room when he pulls it from my cold, dead fingers.