Not this again...

For the second time in a month, I find myself without a bed. First, my estranged wife, the always-lovely Mrs. Shoehead rolled in lst month and took the bed away to her new digs. She advised me to pull one of the old box spring/mattress combos from the back garage and employ that for my nightime slumbers. Now, the back garage is used as a storage facility for the landlord, Mrs. Shoehead's nefarious Uncle Nemo, and--let me tell you--the garage is nasty, moldy, black-widow-spider-webby, muddy, and animal-filthy. The were several mattress and assorted bed-parts leaned up against one wall of the space. So I dragged out the best-looking (or least-nastiest) box spring/mattress out of the garage, did my best disinfectation with bleach solution and Febreeze™, and staged it in my now single-guy room as artfully as I could. I used feng shui, chop suey, karaoke, Bruce Lee, and every other Eastern spiritual concept I could think of.
Then, yesterday, as I was about to go for a run--the door knocked. usually it's either Uncle Nemo, or my crazy cat-killing neighbor; this time, however, it was Mrs. Shoehead's cousin with a pickup truck, intent on reclaiming his bed. I helped him load it up, and take some of his belongings out of the rat-hole garage, and sent him on his merry way. I returned to my now bedless room, and noticed that the feng had shui'ed its way right out of my quarters. *sigh*
What next...?
Stay tuned, my good readers! I might have to go visit Larry Miller and his accountant Irwin very soon. "You're killing me, Larry!!!"