Mud House

This essay is about a mud house that has mud walls, mud puddles, mud clods, mud hallways, mud carpeting, and no backyard pool. This mud house is built on a mud foundation: it’s not your average dirt mound but rather a house made entirely of mud. (Remember my other essay about an all-wood cabin that even had wooden mirrors? It’s not dissimilar to that.) Actually, it used to be only an average dirt mound, but then a rain-shower fell, and now there’s a mud door and much, much more. Look: it’s got a mud bath, mud stairs, mud windows, mud plumbing, mud ceiling-fans, a mud wet-bar in the mud living-room, and of course a mud automobile parked in the concrete garage. In short, there is mud galore. It’s a wonderful place for you to make a home with your spouse. You can roll around and break out the beer: have a cool party where everyone gets drunk. Act wild and let yourself drool with abandon; then maybe learn how to use a spoon. It’s got a barn door, and you can hear everyone gasp when you fire your gun. “Please migrate into the dining area where cake is being served; it’s time to have a blast at the fun shack!” All your guests now start acting dirty. “Let us clap our hands to the charm that we’re chanting.” There are buns coming out of the oven. I am stunned because someone did kung fu. The mud house starts to slide: We allowed the Boar Patrol to enter.