let there be desk

that's right kiddies, no more posting from a compy on a wobbly milk crate. the old iMac finally has a proper desk, which was a remnant of Ron's recent migration to Tobin Street (god rest his metal soul.)
but i'm not here to talk about desks or Ron or metal or Tobin Street. i'm here to talk about milk crates; the lowest commom denominator of the furniture world. for the first time ever, i have a bedroom that is 100% milk crate free.
sure there's one just outside my door to hold my rekkids, but i'm not flaunting that one around pretending it's furniture. and my life is still heavily populated with MC's. i currently own four of these puppies (one black, one brown, one yellow, one red.) when i'm at work, my only seat is a stack of two milk crates. they are still an everyday occurrence.
when i was in high school we had a cabin in the wooded area behind Mark's house, almost completely furnished with crates. at the peak of one memorable summer we had accumulated about thirty of these durable, plastic bad boys. we saw the need for our friends to have somewhere to sit while visiting us in the woods, and we catered to this as quickly and cheaply as we could.
we also, unwisely, invented a sport that involved someone standing on the (severely unstable) roof of the cabin while the others remained on the ground. the goal of the ground folk was to try to knock so-and-so off the roof by hurling milk crates at him. we called it Crate Wars. we obviously were in great need of girlfriends at the time. that or less powerful hash.
anyway, the point is, if we had replaced all of our milk crates back then with Ron's old desks, we'd all be dead.
and you'd be terribly, terribly sad.