Looks a lot like what I like to think my college dorm would have looked like.

But I lived off-campus. Waaaay off campus.

Here�s another tip from your pal Outfoxed. I�m not much on giving tips, the last time I did so was when I advised you to never have kids.

And even though I know what I�m talking about, that didn�t go over very well.

So for a sure fire follow up, here�s the next bit of worldly wisdom.

Never, ever, move out of the house you�re living in. Ever.

Find the one you like when you�re 20 years old. Make friends with the landlord or what-have-you. Offer to buy the place when he dies. Kiss ass madly and with reckless abandon.

But never move out. Especially to a bigger place.

I packed 50 coffee cups today. Wrapped �em in newspaper, sorted for color (I sorted before I wrapped, yes I did) and stuffed �em in a box.

It was a big box, but I got all 50 in there.

Then I opened the dishwasher and there were 6 more.

This is incorrigible. There are only 2 adults in this house who drink coffee, and one of them pollutes it with sugar products, so let�s say there�s really only 1 and half of another (I won�t go into the logistics of all this, save to say that I make the coffee, and it�s been recommended as a lubricant by a major automobile manufacturer).

But seriously, 50 coffee cups? I can see 6 or 8. Hell, we might have company once in a while and said company might be dipping the ol� bill in the schnapps for a while, and may well need a coffee before taking to the streets, as they say.

50 coffee cups is just . . . damn. And I don�t care who knows it.

Not to mention that every one of them needed a jacket of newsprint prior to being buried in a perfectly ordinary box, soon to be labeled �THIS BOX NEED NOT BE OPENED BEFORE ARMAGEDDON� in a flawless draftsman�s script, crisply done with the nearest available Sharpie.

I don�t need this high pressure crap. There�s got to be a better way.

And I haven�t even gotten to the drawers yet. Where untold thousands in Pampered Chef stuff lies, silent and cunning, awaiting my feeble hands.

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