When I married Michelle, I only asked for one thing out of our trailer. She could decorate the place any away she felt fit. (of course, with some small items that I thought should be out, pictures, the family bible, a sword - for home defense) But, one room would be mine. Call it a study. A inner sanctum. A fortress of solitude. Call it what you will, I have a name for it -
THE ROOM OF DOOM.
Ahh, The Room of Doom... It's where I go to be alone and get away from the distractions. Don't worry. If the wife needs me I'm just a scream away and I always go running to her. But, in my room I am the master. Nothing gets by me. You only come in if I let you.
I keep most of my comics in here. thats the big stack you see in the picture above. There's probably 1000 - 1500 comics there. The rest (four long boxes of stuff I don't collect anymore) are in my bedroom closet, buried under clothing. My toy collection is also kept in The Room of Doom. Here's just a sampling of what is there.
It's a work in progress. Always changing, always something new making an appearance. In the end, I'm satisfied with my room. Michelle respects my hobbys and she might only vacuum when she thinks it needs it. I nice enough to do it myself from time to time. But, before I finish this post, one thing. When I get home from work and want to relax in my Room of Doom, I find something laying there. It sits festering like a sore that gets bigger with time. Scary thing is I can stop it. I have to leave the door open so it doesn't get too hot in there because of the sun. I leave you with this unspeakable evil on two different occasions in the same spot. On my desk chair. Catch you on the flipside!
Next Time: Let's Go To The Youth Retreat! GET THE MUZZLES!!!!