Accoding to the book: THEORY OF THE LEISURE CLASS, our stuff owns us. I know my cats own me. And I wish we could get rid of a bunch of shite in the flat, but it ain't mine. All I technically own is an ancient car, and some clothes. This compooter ain't mine, and neither is anything else in this place. I have free use of it, for I maintain it and I am also given enough every week to keep the household running, plus my bills are paid, for I am flat broke. Used to be the other way around when my current keeper was my keepee, but oh well. I suppose the score is being settled and we'll end up even. Kinda.