As roommates we enjoy a fair amount of unity, of unitification, of unitality. You might say we are united. This is fortuitous as I know a lot of people that don’t get along with the people they live with, who do not have a unitude of thought or personality, and who actively dislike going home or being around their roommates (or parents!). So I count myself lucky to have chosen and been chosen by such fine people as the ones I live with, even though Leland is a girl, Greg is a member of NAMBLA, and Jimmy is a chronic liar. We get along well and we just have a stellar room, it’s fun to be in and it’s fun to hang around; I know this because other people are drawn to us, like moths to bugzappers. It is only when they are stuck within the confines of our couches that we gouge them with cattle prods and take their money. And yet they keep coming back! I think I’ll buy a new basketball with my earnings.

I’ve always enjoyed the Christmas season, the feelings it brings, the warmth and closeness of people. There’s just something magical about it. That sounds terrifically cheesy but s’truth. I especially love decorating and doing Christmasy (is that a word? My spellchecker isn’t catching it.) things. Christmas lights are my favorite, it’s always an exciting time when I get to put them up all over my room and listen to Christmas music while doing it. I usually put up enough to light my room, you know, enough to read by. Multi-colored == the best, because everything else just sucks — where is your mood-inducing glow with other colors? White is so sterile, it’s fine for outside or classy restaurants or hospitals, which I guess have a thing about germs, but in my household I want color, and not just any color like green which we have in the main room and that’s fine, you know, we encourage that here, but you get a cool glow from green or any other cool color, and an angry glow from pure red lights. Red lights are what they put in bordellos, friend, and you don’t want your room to look like that, do you? So multi-colored really provides a perfect mix, the glow is pink and heartwarming.

I know it might seem like I’m on crack, jumping from one subject to the next without punctuation or connective adverbs, but there’s a link. Yes, there is a link and I am about to reveal it to you. The revelation which I am about to reveal to you concerning the link between my thoughts thus far, here put down in words, is this: My roommates and I decorated our room for Christmas. There are lights all over, and other festive things like a nativity scene on our knickknack shelf above the color television. Oh yes, and a tree also.

Some time ago we, that is the roommates and I, took pictures of ourselves in suits, printed them in enormous sizes, and hung them in frames with artsy backing paper on our wall. It was pretentious and gaudy, which is exactly the effect we were going for so it worked well. For Christmas we took new pictures, and here they are. Greg really takes the cake with his picture, it is somewhat hardcore in its glory. I don’t know how he got the light to pool about his face in such golden waves, but he did and I’m angry about it.

The pants I’m wearing there are easily some of the most horrible pants ever produced, prezactly the variety of clothing article you expect to stumble over when shopping at Salvation Army, which of course is where we got those outfits. I called them awful. Leland admonished me not to disgrace the word “awful” with those pants. We needed a new word. That word became “bangsdt”. It is used in situations where something is so bad as to be good. For example, dressing up in old-man cardigans and pants is bad. But doing it as a room and taking pictures of it and then walking around together is good! It is, then, bangsdt, an adjective (which we know is a word that describes another word, like a noun). We haven’t come across any other situations yet which require the word, but I’m sure we will in the future, or, if we do not, we will invent them, since a word isn’t useful unless it… uh… can be used.

So. Bangsdt, then.

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