Mi Casa es, well, Mi Casa.

Houses come in many forms, comically speaking.

You can name a fictional character House. You can make him a doctor and give him a limp. You can get a British comedic genius name Hugh Laurie to play him. You can have writers come up with inventive diseases that manage to baffle a hospital’s worth of medical professionals for 52 minutes worth of an episode, only to have the title character solve the case with a last minute revelation. You’ve got to hand it to Fox for sticking with and promoting House as a show. It’s not in the safe zone of a CSI, a Law and Order, a reality show, or a 24 or Lost-like serial series. It’s just a comedic drama about a doctor – quite possibly the most interesting on television. This one could have folded like so many other shows that start off with little support. Instead, it’s the best thing Fox has got right now. Let’s just hope the writer’s strike doesn’t screw with the plot continuity too much. I would hate for studio heads to do the writing: House would end up with a wisecracking sidekick (either a turtle or a lemur) named Chris McAleer or something.

You can work with a guy named House. Unlike the genius of Laurie, my House was far from a rocket surgeon (or is it brain scientist?) And fortunately for me, his nickname was a common enough word that should he ever decide to search for himself on a computer (rather than sleep in front of it), it’s unlikely that he’ll ever find the tales his tall co-worker spun about him. Looking through the archives, I find that they are largely devoid of stories centering on the man who wore a 60 XXXL suit coat and coined ridiculous phrases like, “Boo-Ya, Grandma!” It is likely because that his tenure in close cubicular proximity only lasted from April 2003 to May 2004 – a mere two months prior to YAB’s founding. But it’s scary the legacy he has left us. After all, not every co-worker you’ll ever work with will fall for the old “alphabetize one’s keyboard” prank. House, wherever you are, I raise my Nalgene bottle to your added workday hilarity.

(Of course, you can’t see my tribute. You’re asleep in your desk chair. Again.)

You can mock Under Armour. Yeah, Under Armour – the apparel company that sells the tight shirts that come with six-pack abs already built in. They’ve become part of the marketing fabric that is professional sports, and all it took was one catchphrase-laden marketing campaign. I can imagine back in 2003 the UA sales team in an eleventh hour pitch meeting.

Director: Ok, we’ve got like 12 minutes before they shoot the commercial. What’s it going to be, team?
Sales Exec 1: How about, “YOU CAN’T CUT THROUGH ARMOUR!”
Sales Exec 2: I love it!
Director: Ok, not bad, not bad. What else do we have?
Sales Exec 3: That sucks. Lots of stuff can cut through armour.
Sales Exec 2: I hate it!
Sales Exec 1: “WE MUST PROTECT THIS ARMOUR FROM THINGS THAT CAN CUT THROUGH IT!”
Sales Exec 2: “I love it!”
Director: It’s a tad long.
Sales Exec 3: “WE MUST PROTECT THIS ARMOUR!”
Sales Exec 2: “I love it!”
Director: Armour should be able to protect itself, even though we’re using the flighty British spelling. What’s a more important thing to protect?
Sales Exec 1: “THIS HOUSE!”
Sales Exec 3: “THIS HOUSE!”
Sales Exec 2: “WHY ARE WE YELLING??? I LOVE IT!”

In the 814 posts to date, the old Blogger StatTracker has revealed that the word “house” has appeared in 125 of them. That’s one in eight, people. I had no idea that an abode could produce so much comedy. And now I’ve gone and done it – I’ve opened up a brand new chapter from which many funny vignettes and comedic situations shall tumble out. You ready for this?

We bought a house. Oh dear Lord.

(more to follow)