Apostrophic Chunder

I bet you've all been lying awake at night, just wondering how things are looking in my basement studio tool shed workshop lair storage area. I've just been there, and I'm moderately indifferent to say that it's filthy and loaded from floor to ceiling with things I should have thrown out in the 1990s. I know before you ask that you, the everyday readers of my bi-monthly narcissistic blog, want to know what will we do about this? What will I do about this despicable, unconscionable, inconsolably miserable state of affairs? I've just been down there I tell you! It was disgusting how those slovenly boxes and greasy tools and stacks of solemn teenage poetry rubbed against each other. The way the floodlights caressed each dog-eared page and crushed box corner... I couldn't stand it. I did what I could. I've got a solitary kitchen bag full of those things which I am willing to part with on this beautiful early spring day. I found 20 or so cardboard boxes to recycle, and maybe I shoved a veritable cornucopia of rubbish even further into the corners and closets. Go on without me, brave readers, because I can't even look at that basement again until next Saturday! With that, I must say good day.