Tuesday, November 27, 2007

It's Elementary, Dear Blogson...

Well, not that it's a big fucking surprise to anyone, but:

cash advance

Funny... I don't remember saying things like "Holy fuckstain!" and "mother-cock-ass" until at least junior high. Eh, maybe late fourth grade.

Anywhich, over the last couple of weeks it's gotten really fucking FREEZING down here in the basement. It's gone from that brisk autumn chill to "Shit, I think my nipples just snapped the fuck off." So, I dug out the ol' piece-o-shit space-heater I used last year and fired its ass up. I guess it qualifies as a space heater -- it heats about two square feet of space in front of it. The thing's a glorified hair dryer, is what it is.

So I have that thing spitting its little lukewarm farts onto my feet, which are ensconced in the down slippers that I've had for so long that the bottoms are completely worn away, exposing my mysteriously bruised digits. Then I'm wearing, in ascending layer order, a long-sleeved shirt, a sweater and then a fleece sweatshirt. Oh, and pants. So, I can barely move with all this shit on, and my fingers are still turning purple and all my joints are aching. I'm telling ya, it's a motherfucking Charles Dickens story down here.

And so, today, the contractor guy, who has been putting in our new front door and fixing up some other shit, presented us the plan he drew up for finishing our basement. The Old Lady has been saying that we really need to finish it up down here, so I have a nice place to work, and the spawnage can have a play area, and blah, blah, right -- like that's ever going to fucking happen.

So, I'm paging through the drawings and all the shit he's planning on doing, and it looks fucking spectacular! It's all framed in and drywalled, there are outlets all over the place, 13 can lights in the finished ceiling, it's carpeted, painted, the staircase is all opened up, there's tons of room for recording and still plenty of room for the spawnage to fuck around. I'm starting to get all excited and shit, and then I turn the page for the quote...


Well shit, dude, Miss O could come up with a fucking awesome basement design if I gave her 25,000 dollars! The CHALLENGE is to do it for, like, 10! Show me something for 8,500 -- then I'll be fucking impressed. Holy carp, I was seriously expecting less than half that price. I would SO suck on "The Price is Right." Of course, the Old Lady still thinks it's possible -- "We can do it... we'll just save up all year and then by next winter we'll have enough."

A) I won't last until next winter, and 2) no we won't. So, I don't know. I'll get another quote, and maybe ask the contractor dude to dumb it down a little... maybe get rid of all the fancy lighting... and the nice carpet... and the walls...

I'm not holding my breath, though. In the meantime, I'm thinking about getting me a pair of these:

(The USB gloves, not the lady hands.)


Sarah said...

I'd also suggest one or both of these:


Again... not the lady part.. just the warm part.

And, if you should leap like in the picture on the fleece... please do post.

nora said...

Well, my sense of humor must be elementary school reading level also.

crabbydad said...

Hey Sarah, I think I'll get both of those. I'll have kind of a "Silence of the Lambs" meets "Teletubbies" look going on. Which is always attractive.

And don't sell yourself short, Nora. It's one thing to read this drivel... it's another to write it.

Sarah said...

Hanibal Lector Telletubbie... now that is an image. Of course, it is also exactly what Jerry Fallwell was saying all along! Make sure you trademark the image so his followers don't use it for evil purposes...before you can, that is.

Lizzy said...

Go on a reality show on HGTV or TLC or FUTV or some shit. The fact that you've done other renovations and haven't done the basement will work on your behalf. I'd do the same, but apparently those reality wusses are unwilling to haul their equipment up the 4 stories to squeeze into my 600 sq. ft. NYC pad. See, it could be worse.

In fact, get your woman to do a "while you were out" type of thing and play dumb. They'll blow a serious wad on your behalf (money-wad). Jesus, I, too, am elementary.