Coffee makes my piss smell funny.
December 1st, 2000:
home improvement
When I was five years old, my dad bought me a Daddy’s Helper tool kit complete with a working hand saw, hammer, and screw driver set, all of the smaller variety. My dad was constantly building things for the house, and I was always wanting to help. I imagine he figured that if he bought me my own tools, he could offer me small pieces of scrap wood to saw and hammer on, and in that fashion, make me feel like I was helping. I guess I was smarter than my dad thought, because it didn’t take me long to figure out that the work I was doing wasn’t being put into the final project at all.
Knowing this, I decided to take on my own home improvement project. I was under the impression that the coffee table in our living room would be much more useful if we had two smaller tables, and so I took matters into my own hands. I had gotten about three inches along my way, before my parents caught me and decided to take away my tools and finish the job themselves.
My tools were buried in the backyard, and they never did finish the project.
And now, seventeen years later, I’m still doing things my own way, and still pissing off a lot of people.