More Actual Work

Okay, so I got some actual work done on the MacGuyver Kitchen this weekend. On the plus side, I don't have the MacGuyver sink and diswasher any more. On the minus side is that I don't have any sink or dishwasher (or sink) and I won't have one till I finish the kitchen. I guess that's one way to motivate myself.

I do have some actual pictures of it, but I didn't load them into my beautiful MacBook yet, so in the meantime, I'll just have to brag about some previous work that I did, but haven't bragged about yet. This way, I can justify having taken a picture of it in the first place. It's not enough that I actually do something constructive around my house, I need to brag about it endlessly, otherwise what's the point? If a tree falls in the woods and I can't film it and show it to hippie to make him cry, then why bother chopping it down in the first place?


So before I fired the contractor, he didn't finish up the drywall in the kitchen.

Here is where the drywall meets the glass door in the MacGuyver kitchen. Even if you don't know anything about construction, you can probably tell that it's not finished because you wouldn't buy a house if the doorway looked like that. You would pull your Real Estate agent to the side and say "what's with that doorway?" And he would tell you that the owner never bothered to fix it because he doesn't have a blog.





The first thing I had to do was add corner bead to the unfinished corners. This wasn't difficult at all, except for the fact that buying it involves a trip to Home Depot, which is about as enjoyable as a visit to a fat-fingered proctologist.














So I put the corner bead all around the doorway, then I proceeded to use joint compound (also known as drywall mud or lucifer's spit...okay I made that up) to finish up the edges.














So I finished it up, then sanded it. Mudding is fun, because it's like playing with frosting, but sanding it afterwards sux, so I hired a day laborer to do that and the rest of the sanding. That way I can use my time more constructively (get it?) by doing things like laying out the kitchen, blogging, or pretending to "supervise".

The Plan

I’m going to try to make some progress on the Ninja fortress over the weekend. I know I've said that before but this time I mean it. I bought some kitchen cabinets from IKEA. And I’m working like a Hebrew slave to put them together. Who knew I could fit a whole kitchen into the Ninja Lite-Armoured Assault Vehicle? They are starting to look niiiice, but who knew that anyone besides the Chinese actually manufacture stuff. Slovakia? These cabinets were made by Slovakians? Are those the communists of the Al Qaaeda? No matter, the cabinets will look good. I have to make a trip back to IKEA tonight because they sold me a few of the cabinets in wrong sizes (and there is a big difference between two 30" cabinets and two 12" cabinets...I don't think I have enough caulk to hide the discrepancy).

In other news, my new laptop kicks ass, so I should be able to upload pics again using my camera, instead of taking ghetto pics with my cell phone. If anyone thinks that Apple isn't the greatest invention since free internet p0rn, you have no idea what the hell you are talking about.

Anyway, this is the beginning of the end of the MacGuyver Kitchen.

In other news, I did not win the Best DC Blog by the Sexiest Hetero Male Blogger. It went to someone else. I think ballot stuffing may have been involved, but I'm not going to waste time worrying about it. My mother already confirmed that I'm the handsomest boy on earth. So even though the modelling agencies think she is seriously in need of some new glasses, I'll take her word for it because she has no reason to lie.

In still other news. Go HERE and vote for the Best DC Blog by a Real Writer. But if you do, you should vote for my friend Velvet, who helped me pick out (and load!) the cabinets, and also gave me some invaluable material for my next post. I don't think I'm winning the contest, so I don't want to Nader anyone's chances of winning the election.

And lastly, sometimes I read something in the paper and just say WOW. Sometimes I have idiotic ideas (like buying the ninja fortress) but usually I run the ideas past someone before I do it. But there is some guy in Minnesota who really, really, needs to run his idea by other people first. See, he was arrested today for cutting off the head of a dog and mailing it to the owner in a gift box with valentine candy. When the cops asked him why he did it, he said he wanted her to go out with him. The original story is HERE. Now I don't know what this guy was thinking, but if you want to get a girl to out with you, maybe killing her dog and mailing the head to her in a box isn't the best way to go.

Crazy: I really like Crystal, but she won't go out with me? I told her I had tickets to a Modest Mouse concert and she turned me down.

Friend: Modest Mouse? First of all, they suck. I wouldn't go to a Modest Mouse concert with you either, even if I was gay and you weren't crazy. See if she likes the Shins or maybe an Eminem concert?

Crazy: I dunno' those tickets are hard to get. What if mailed her some romantic chocolates in a nice box, with a card?

Friend: Yeah, that's a good idea. The card is nice touch.

Crazy: What if I throw a severed dog's head in there. You know, her dog. You think that's a bit much?

Friend: I dunno. Sometimes less is more...you don't want to come off as too eager. Chicks don't like that.

Crazy: Start with a cat's head maybe?

Friend: Or...just stick with the Chocolates and maybe a Red House Painters CD maybe some Deep Banana Blackout?

Important Announcement

Well, I have been upset this past week because it turns out that I am not the winner of the $370 million lottery. Not only that, but I am $50 poorer as a result of that stupid game. I may have to take drastic steps.

Moving on

In what I swear is completely unrelated news, I have an announcement to make: I, Home Improvement Ninja, am the father of Anna Nicole Smith’s baby. Yes, you read that right, it’s me. I know the timing is suspicious, but it has nothing to do with the lottery. I would’ve made this announcement even if I had won.

The only reason I haven’t come forward until now is that I thought I might get hit up for child support payments by that gold-digging coke head...may she rest in peace. But now that she’s dead, I think I should step up and claim custody of my kid (or at least my pro-rata portion of it). I know that some of you are thinking "how could you have made it with Anna Nicole Smith without the paparazzi finding out." First of all, let me say that it's pretty easy to have sex with Anna Nicole Smith. I think it's harder to get NCAA playoff tickets than it is to get into Anna Nicole's pants. But even though making it with Anna Nicole is like making it with a glass of warm water, I won't speak badly of her since she is the mother of my beachhouse...errr, baby. I said baby; I meant baby and I said baby, okay.

Anyway, since l am a lawyer and respected member of the legal community, a paternity test won't be necessary. I will agree to a maternity test to determine if Anna Nicole Smith was the biological mother, but a paternity test would be ridiculous. If ninja sperm was in that uterus in a fight to death with sperm from a photographer, an old man, and a washed up lawyer who cries on TV (yes, I saw you Howard K. Stern) and is therefore not a real man, the results are obvious. The ninja sperm killed the other sperm, impregnated Anna Nicole, hid out for nine months, then killed her from the inside out. That's why the autopsy has taken nearly a month. Ninja sperm can hide from a medical examiner like a Bush appointee hides from a subpoena.

I understand that there is a $400 million inheritance that she will have and, as her father, I’ll make sure it stays safe until she reaches her 60th birthday, at which point I’ll turn every penny of it over to her (after deducting fees and expenses, of course).

And Judy Greer, if you’re reading this, I hope you are moved by a single father’s love for his insanely wealthy illegitimate daughter. I plan on posting pics of me and whats-her-face on here so that when you see it, you will think that I am all sensitive and shit and will want to go out with me…or at least modify the restraining order from 500 feet to 50 feet. If you did, I would stand exactly 51 feet outside your window (again) with a boombox and play Peter Gabriel’s “in your eyes” while wearing an ill-fitting trench coat like that ugly, skinny white kid in that Say Anything movie.

In other news, someone who I hope is Judy Greer, Rachel McHottie or the hotness that is Jamie has nominated me for Best DC Blog by the Sexiest DC Hetero Male. I don't understand what the contest is all about, but you should vote for me because if I manage to get laid from this contest, that's gotta be a good thing. Also, I think if I win this contest, it will negate the results of the infamous "Gay or European Sweater" poll.

Christmas Part 3: The Severed Pig Head

Okay, here is the final Christmas post that I have been promising. I was in Florida visiting the ninja clan and getting new material for my blog and my therapist. My family was in rare form. Old feuds were rekindled, and new feuds were ignited...good times.

Anyway, my sister had bought a new house, 5 bedrooms, and I, my brother and dad were enlisted as free labor to do some stuff on it before she moved in. I didn't take many pictures, so that won't be discussed right now. The only thing that I will mention is that my younger half brother is completely useless when it comes to home improvement. He did nothing for the entire time when we were there, and when he finally did something (carrying a tool up the stairs), he dropped it, damaged the Pergo floor and made an extra hour of work for me and the ninja dad. Nice work, Sparky!!! Even my sister is better at home improvement than he is, and she has a uterus. I hope that the home improvement gene kicks in eventually because I would hate to think that a male who shares my genetic material is not a real man.

I know that some of the laydeez reading this are thinking that you don't have to know how to fix stuff to be a real man because their husbands can't fix things. But the only reason they think that is that they have never made it with a guy who can lay hardwood flooring. Jus' sayin'.

Anyway, between fixing stuff and getting dragged into family feuds, I went Christmas shopping. I found some interest things in the sunshine state, even if I didn't buy it. Like:



Chocolate tools!!! Very cool, but the last thing I would want to see is anything to do with Home Improvement.









Games!!! Holy crap. This was at Target and was selling for only a couple of hundred bucks on clearance. If it was in DC I would've bought it. It had four classic video games in the same machine like Defender Robotron and Joust. My nephew laughed when he saw this because, compared to PS2 and some of the other new games which look like you are in a movie, the graphics suck, but this is part of my childhood. Part of my fcuked up, wasted childhood. I remember hearing that Stephen Spielberg had his own Tempest video game in his house and thinking that I would like to be rich enough someday to have a video game machine in my own house. And ironically, now, I am rich enough to have a video game machine in my own house. Maybe when I'm done with the ninja fortress I'll buy one of these these. You can get 5 of them for the price of a decent MacBook. I could have my own friggin' arcade...where all the games are free...Swwwweeeeeeeeeet!!!!

There were other interesting things at Target. For instance, you can get the entire Friends sitcom on DVD for $200. I know what you are thinking: "why would you pay $200 for something that is not even funny. " I wondered that also. But apparently some people like that show. "Could they BE any dumber?" And by buying the DVDs, they don't have to watch the episodes for free on TV. They can watch them anytime of the day or night. Apparently, if you think Friends is funny, you have a lot of time on your hands because none of your real friends will want to hang out with you.

So in my searching, I found the perfect gift for my nephew "Day Day". I found this little play tool chest and little battery-operated circular saw with little safety goggles (safety first!!!) because you are never too young too learn to fix stuff, or to be a real man...which is basically the same thing.

Day Day with the play circular saw. If he didn't have a sippy cup in his mouth, all you girls reading this would be All Up Ons, even thought he's not even old enough to unhook your bra.






Anyway, during the Christmas dinner at the Ninja family home is where the problem started. we had a big whole roasted suckling pig ("lechon") that was made for the occasion. But Day Day was freaked out by the head. So, since he hadn't suffered any childhood trauma yet, I thought it was time for him to know what it's like in the ninja clan. So I told him that it wouldn't hurt him and when he got close to it, I made the jowels move and made it fake-bark.


Okay here is a picture of the Pig's Head. Needless to say the kid was freaked and started crying. So I did what anyone in my family would've done to me if they were closest to the pig and I was his age: I grabbed the pigs head and started chasing him around the house with it and making barking noises. The kid was screaming like teen girl at a Ricky Martin concert.



Then my sister flips out on me, for no reason. No reason at all!!!

Sis: You asshole. Now the kid is gonna grow up fcuked up!

Ninja: So what, that's what therapy's for!

Sis: Not everyone in our family needs therapy.

Ninja: Ummm, did you grow up in the same family I did?

The kid was grabbing my sister's leg and bawling in a very un-ninja like fashion. My sister tried to make him feel better so she grabbed a cake knife and fake-stabbed me to death in front of him. (oh yeah, tell me again we don't all need therapy).

The Murder Weapon











So I took a dive and pretended to die.

Ninja: See, Day Day, that's the message of Christmas...that if someone messes with your family, you cut them. That's the gift of the baby Jeebus.

Sis: Ummm....yeah...who want's cake? Anyone?

So anyway, that's the story of how I chased my nephew around the house with a severed pigs head. Like I said, it's not as disturbing as it sounds. In fact, compared to stuff in my childhood, this is really pretty mild. If that kid ends up in Catholic School like I did, they will mess up his mind so bad that he won't even remember this. So I probably did him a favor...somehow.