I’ve got good news for everyone. Gather round. Verily, hear unto me. I shall speaketh the words of The Move.

Oh, and the good news? My memory ain’t what it used to be. So I’ve forgotten about 99.99% of the laments I wished to document in this post. That’s good news for you, the loyal reader.

These are the facts as we know them right now. On or about Thursday, June 13th, a 26′ foot U-Haul truck rolled over my existence. The next four days of my life were consumed by dreams of said truck, with visions of boxes filling my head. Morning, noon and nights whiled away whilst moving boxes in and out of The Great Truck.

That’s about all I remember, really. The Tom B. Taker y’all knew is dead. He’s been replaced by this empty nutshell.

Oh, one other thing. The process of unloading our precious possessions (my precious!) into our new home necessitated the reality that doors remained open for convenience. The doors gaped wide open for two days straight. During this time, the local flora and fauna made use of the opportunity to move in with us. They made themselves right at home. Really, though, it was mainly flies with a few spider mascots thrown in for good measure.

Sunday, after returning the abomination of a U-Haul truck, I dragged my broken body through that portal into the new dimension. As the portal closed behind me, I gravely regarded the gathered throng of flies.

I collapsed into the assembled legions of my follows and they caught me and I was lifted up by millions of furiously beating little wings. “Daddy’s home,” I bellowed. “What the fuck is this? Amityville?” The flies parted and the walls began to gushing blood and they bowed to their new Lord…

Oh, beloved Musca Domestica! At least when humans are forced to turn to insects for survival I’ll already have my very own ready-to-go meal.

Luckily, like I indicated earlier, that’s about all I remember, so the story ends here. Hallelujah!