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breaking-bedWell, loyal readers, it finally happened: my lover and I broke the bed.

The moral of this story, alas, is not “Erotica writers are whirling dynamos of sexual energy,” but rather “Don’t buy your furniture at Ikea.”

Or at least don’t buy furniture that’s going to take a lot of weight and kinetic energy over the years (because hey, I may not be a whirling dynamo, but I’m no slouch either) if it includes any of their cheap, crappy fiberboard. And most Ikea furniture, with the exception of the all-metal frames, involves cheap, crappy fiberboard somewhere.

Seriously, just spring for like a $150 bed made out of halfway decent pine, throw a futon mattress on there, and call it a day. Box springs and drawers and all that other stuff are for people who don’t move around a lot, don’t have to worry about the endless urban siege warfare against bedbugs, and don’t fuck their lovers and their mattresses into submission on a regular basis.

Yeah, I went there. Now if you’ll excuse me, this Allen wrench isn’t going to just cram itself into all the necessary holes…