The Big Bed Theory

Ok, I have told every human I've seen in person, plus several of the gods and goddesses (Norse, mostly, if that matters to you) about my new bed. I can't stop talking about it. Maybe that's partly because I'm coming off a many year stint on a futon. Well, that nonsense is over. A new era of comfort and support has begun.

Sure, this thing covers roughly 75% of my living space. You know what? I generally spend roughly 75% of my time asleep. Perfect.

Some salient features for all of you reading at home:

• It is the kind of bed which, if you were so inclined, you could put a glass of red wine on one side and jump up and down on the other. And it wouldn't spill the wine. You could do that first part on any bed. (Disclaimer: I tried this yesterday with a mug of tea. I pushed down lightly and the tea rocked around like crazy. Had I jumped up and down, it would have gone flying for sure. So...the bed lied to me once. Oh, I can't stay mad at you, bed. Just never lie to me again.)
• On it, I not only have a comforter, but also a duvet cover. I don't even have a duvet. I don't think. Unless that's what the comforter is, in which case somebody isn't keeping consistent with their naming scheme. Work on that, Macy.
• I also own a bedskirt. Had I known that this item was also called "The thing you put on your bed to hide the shameful pile of crap you've crammed under it" I would have bought one with far more verve. As it stands, I had only marginal verve at that time. I would like more verve when I buy things, I'm saying.

So, it's a big, awe-inspiring, monolithic, adult-sized bed just for me. In fact, I prefer it that way. I would WAY rather that than to have some totally hot woman in there totally making out with me once in a while. Who needs that hassle? Not me, that's for sure.*

* Reverse psychology always works. Always.