I looked around the house for other things I disliked so I could drill holes in them, too, but I couldn't really find anything anything else. Well, that makes sense; it's my house, after all. And everything I don't like, such as the bathroom floor and the ugly plaid couch, won't fit.
(Hey, have you read this piece of shit? I hate it so much I've read it three times. The chapter in which she's about to jerk off a Butthole Surfer in a Deep Ellum alley but flees at the last second because her "body and mind are just too complicated" is exquisite.)