In January 2004, some schmuck broke into my apartment and stole two small bowls of coins. Kind of insulting; I thought I had more stuff worth stealing. Anyway, I bought a bunch of tiny webcams (see right) for $20 a pop and installed them in my apartment. Thanks to the magic of the Internet, I can satisfy my paranoia and keep an eye on my apartment while I’m at work. Thanks to Supermasterpiece’s bandwidth, you can, too!

Here’s an inside view of the front door of my apartment. Maybe you’ll see me carrying in groceries. If you do, you might wonder why I feel compelled to carry every bag upstairs at once instead of making two trips, no matter how many bags there are. The answer: I’m an idiot.

This webcam shows my living room. If it’s clean, then that’s because I pick up after myself (this message is for my Mom and Dad). If it’s messy, then it’s only temporary, and as soon as I stop tutoring orphans and pulling puppies out of burning cars, I’ll clean my apartment.

On top of this bookshelf, between the saki cup my friend Micah made and a candle, is my most prized possession: the Golden Monkey of Atzlcutel. It’s real gold, all seventeen pounds of it. I discovered it while hiking. It’s estimated to be worth over $3,500,000!

Here’s my parking lot. Maybe you can see my car, a green Subaru Outback with a bicycle rack on the roof. Yes, I’m twenty-seven years old and I drive a station wagon. This is due to my dad’s automobile-preference genes, which I inherited fully. So how’s the weather today?

This webcam shows my filing cabinet and PC. The papers in my cabinet aren’t valuable to anyone but me, but you never know. If someone wants to take a tiny bowl of dimes and nickels instead of my Xbox, someone else might really want my insurance papers. I guess.

Here’s my desk, with my other computer gear. If I’m home, the odds are decent that I’m sitting here, working on something for Supermasterpiece. Or aimlessly browsing the Web, spending great big chunks of my precious youth on nothing much. Twenty-seven is young, right?