Well, it’s official. We have come out of the dark ages of television and replaced our gigantic, monstrous, old-timey TV with a flat screen HD thingamafuck.

Don’t misunderstand me. This son of a bitch is a 55-inch flat screen thingamafuck. Oh yes, nothing but the biggest for Sarge. At least the biggest for sale at Target. Surround sound is currently in the hands of UPS as we speak.

You have no fucking clue how imposing that humongous black rectangle is on my wall.

We’ve resisted the urge to replace our perfectly good TVs so far. Sarge would say it’s because I’m cheap. Wait, no. My best good friend Bobby would say it’s because I’m cheap. Sarge would say it’s because I’m frugal (with a wink). I would say it’s because I couldn’t care less about material shit like that. I get my rocks off on things like dollar-cost averaging and high-yield bonds.

However, as soon as I started spouting off about American material excess and the fact that I would be perfectly happy replacing our couches with huge bean bags and stringing up Christmas lights in the living room, Sarge would say, “Well, what about the $100 worth of panties you just bought from Victoria’s Secret? They have perfectly good panties at Wal-Mart!”

And then I would say, “touche.”

But that still doesn’t fix the problem of this eye-gouging black rectangle on my wall.

At least I have sexy panties, though.

And no, I’m not showing them to you.