Monday, June 15, 2009


"It's good because it's cool." Translated from the vernacular, so reads the box of beer sitting on the floor against the wall. And it is cool. It is. The condensation from my glass is proof of that, but "it" defines far more than simply the temperature of my beverage, which isn't just cool, it's cold. No. "It" is everything in this place, living and non-living. See that Shih Tzu lamping on the sofa like a bloated waterskin? She's cool. Sure, she can't jump for shit, and her affection for you is determined mostly by whether or not you have food, but she's cool nonetheless. Shih Tzus are inherently ugly, but not this bitch. No. She's as pretty as they make 'em, even if her toenails aren't all the same color.

See that big window with the spectacular view? See it well. Who needs a television when you can look out that badboy anytime you please? If you do need a television, though, look to your left. 42 inches of South Korean electronic craftsmanship. It has presence, like the monolith in 2001: A Space Odyssey turned sideways. Yes.

I want you to look at these bookshelves occupying the two corners of the apartment next to the window, the only window necessary, the only window that matters. Unassuming, right? Look more closely. See? What they lack in aesthetics they more than make up for in taste. Of Human Bondage and The Moon and Sixpence. Alexandre Dumas. The Perry Bible Fellowship Almanack. Dostoevsky, and Murakami for a modern touch. Very, very cool.

There's an oak chessboard nestled between the TV stand and a wicker basket full of towels. Obviously a thinking man lives here. Wanna play? Not your thing? No problem. This place screams variety(!), and a starkly more pedestrian approach to leisure can be found mere inches away, on both sides, in the forms of a Nintendo Wii (right) and a Nintendo DS (left).

Look up, will you? Dwight Howard couldn't touch that ceiling. Whoever designed this place had neoplasticism on the brain, and that brain was sharp. No surface is rounded, no fixture anything except a paean to 90-degree angles. Boxy, in a good way. A great way. An obsessive compulsive's wet dream.

The sandalwood floor? Thanks for noticing. The jade-green carpeted stairs? Nine of them, and I hope the symbolism isn't lost. This is where the magic happens. Ha. A dual effort of foam and springs, that mattress is well worth its price tag, and then some. Sure, you can't stand erect up here, but that's not this floor's purpose. Or maybe it is. Ha.

How's about a drink? Some wine, perhaps? You are in good company, my friend. Pop the cork and clink glasses made in Austria. If spirits are your thing, don't worry, you are covered like a duvet. Some fine scotch? A snifter of brandy? A decidedly more pedestrian variety of libations is available in the form of Jack Daniel's Tennessee Sipping Whiskey. Burns so good.

A beer, then. Okay. A beer it is. One glass of...what? Pilsner? Ale? Stout? Anything cold, you say? Fine. One glass of cold for the gentleman, and hey how about them Lakers? No, I haven't been following the NHL finals.

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