Life Is Harder On Me Than Anyone EVER

Okay, this might not be the most lucid post. I’m chapped as all get out, but I guess I have some things to say, and I told myself I was going to post more often, since an anonymous commenty person said he/she liked this blog. Bastard.

I now own two jacuzzi tubs, and they’re both in a room that has no plumbing. I have no idea why, but I think I may have a problem. Booze? Narcotics? Keep your interventions for yourselves, my so-called friends. But please … please … someone take this post as a cry for help about the fucking jacuzzi tubs.

More stupidity on the kitchen remodel front … I stopped at the store to get some lag-bolts (I think that’s what they’re called) to attach this thing to the actual wall. “Three is enough,” I tell myself, as the $.16 that they cost will surely throw my personal financial portfolio way out of kilter if I bought more than I need and had to keep them on the books as unmoved inventory. I also figured that 15’ of quarter-round was enough. My god, that would be enough trim for the largest cabin in Sun Valley AND the Los Angeles Lakers basketball team!

Needed five bolts, came up short by 2” on the trim.

THEN, I got home from listening to some music, and I talked myself out of Taco Time into the more responsible option of dinner at home, and I was out of spaghetti noodles! I might not be the most Italian guy in the world, but damnit, my heart was set.

Let's see ... what else? Maybe that’s all that I’m chapped about.

So to recap: I got a fantastic deal on a nice jacuzzi tub. I bolted down my counter-top, which turned out WAY better than my skills should have let it, I get to go see my buds down at the hardware store to get a bit more quarter-round, and I also saw a bitchin’ band tonight … “Or, The Whale” … down at the Visual Arts Collective. And I busted up some lasagna noodles, so dinner was not only saved, but new and interesting.

Lots of other good stuff happened too. Like I didn’t get a flat tire. All of you have permission to slap me if you ever hear me complaining about life.

Metaphorically slap, of course. I’m kind of a wuss.