Dismantle My Bed

Damn my late-blooming ideas! I have come to this one too late. My books would have made most excellent goodies for trick-or-treaters. Why have I not been pimping them out as such?

I am too slow on the draw and that, my friends, is how you get shot down by an outlaw.

What you do with your bed once it is completed is entirely up to you. (I’ve heard that some people like sex.) I like to utilize mine for overnight guests. They think it’s hysterical to be sleeping on top of my book box bed. We really yuk it up. Then, when I say goodnight, I like to say, “Sweet dreams. Remember, you are sleeping on top of my broken ones.”

That’s it. In eleven incredibly over-simplified steps you have crafted your very own book box bed. The most difficult part of the process is the writing of the novel, though raising capital comes in a close second. I find student loans or large credit lines are fine places to find money for destined-to-fail creative projects. Why not be in debt along with being poor? It’s the American way!

Buy a mattress, some bedding, and other bed-like features. Without these things, you really just have a platform. I’m not knocking that though. Grab a karaoke machine or strap on your guitar and go to town pretending that you are with the Stones.

Not that I’ve ever done that.

Shittiest back of a human under the age of 60, in case you were wondering. I know! I didn’t realize that ’shittiest’ was a Guinness adjective either. I suddenly feel incredibly qualified for several world records.