While lying in bed the past few days, waiting for the residual slobber to dry, I've been busy redesigning my home in my head.
     Redesigning it from top to bottom.  (Hey, we're talking a lot of slobber here.  Not quite as much as occurs in a club full of girls when Leo DiCaprio walks in, but almost as much, I'm sure.)

     First, the bottom.
     I want to mount my entire abode on a turntable so that no matter what window in the place I want to stare out of, I can arrange it so that the sun is always in my eyes.  I mean, I've always thought it neat to be going down the road and casually glance at someone's home and unexpectedly see some guy at a window, squinting, and I think it's time I gave something back.  Not only do I think most men look best when they're squinting, I just feel safer knowing that they're having to battle the sun as well as my own silent pleas for mercy if they want to get a good look at me as I speed by.  On cloudy days and at night, when there allegedly is no sun, I'll just rotate the house around so that whatever window I want to stare out of can't be seen from the road.  
     Really, when you stop to think about it, putting one's entire abode on a turntable is probably the perfect solution to at least 94% of all one's staring-out-the-windows needs and I'm surprised no one's ever come up with it before.  Leonardo da Vinci came closest, but he, poor guy, thought in terms of a (heehee) giant barrel.  It's things like that that make me wonder how the Italians ever managed to win the so-called Battle of the Renaissance.   
     
     As for the top....
     As I've repeatedly hinted at in the special paper journal entitled "Why I STILL Hate The 'Typical' Damn Roof Today!!!!" that I've been keeping daily since 1978, I'm not fond of the typical housetop.  My current housetop is no exception, being a standard roof-like housetop kind of thing.  I mean to say, it slopes downward - clear to the edges - and there it stops.  Like, hohum to the nth power- you know?  Besides which, the leaves collect in the eaves (yucky) and rainwater often dripple-dripple-dripples over the corners and the edges (also yucky).  
     My solution: The concave roof.  That is to say, a roof which has its highest parts around the edges so all the water flows to the center.  And - as an added bonus - it'll make it just that much harder for me to accidentally fall off when I'm up there looking for that pen I lost in the 4th grade.
     Ok, simple enough, right?  Now here's where things get erotic.  I want to drain away that center-pooling water with interior downspouts.  Clear plastic interior downspouts which I visualize as being not unlike those pneumatic tubes many of the better bank drive-thrus are using these days to charge us exorbitant surcharges to tell us how much of our money they actually are keeping for us.  This way, when it rains (or snow melts) I'll be able to enjoy watching it running down the downspouts from the comfort of my own living room chair instead of having to go outside and poke my nose in the discharge end of a standard, impossible to see thru aluminum pipe like I do now.
     "But what about dirt and leaves," my wife asked.  "What about when the dirt and leaves cling to the inside of the clear plastic interior downspouts and start clashing terribly with the cat hair all over the rest of the house.  What then?"
     What then?  We simply push a little button and activate the flush cycle, that's all.  Or allow an automatic timer do it for us, just like on the urinals they have in all the better bars and schools now.  
     Man, that'll be real living, eh?
     If you're gonna dream, dream b-i-g (i.e., "big"), I always say! 
     Which is why I'm also planning on adding six 4"-wide skylights above each room that'll run the width of every room.  Each will be connected to independent, computer-operated shades and louvers which will allow the occupants of each room to use them as I Ching sticks.  Instead of casting the traditional sticks to foretell the future or obtain advice, all visitors will have to do is push a button and watch the mystical results unfold above 'em.  Just because I personally think the I Ching is a bunch of shit doesn't mean I won't bend over backwards to please my guests in this regard, especially when bending over backwards makes it easier for me to see pretty changing patterns on my ceilings.

     But I think I better stop for now.  Wouldn't want the nurse to discover I've managed to slip one hand out of the restraints before I managed to upload, would we?
     Just as well.  Some residual slobber just dripped into my eyes and I once promised myself never to write anything here when my vision was at all cloudy.
     Well, nothing on odd-numbered days, anyway....