Up close and personal... with my hole.

HA! How many sickos got here from a wayward Google search? Plenty, I'm sure.

Those of you who have been paying attention, I have a hole in my living room wall as a resort to my absurd want of some mother fucking baseboards. That was all I wanted, let us be clear. The problem with husbands having under used power tools is that they can sometimes get a little over zealous with them and you know, cut a hole in the wall and talk you into how great it would be to have a random cubby. In the wall. Of your living room.

At this point- we're too far in to go back. My fear is that if we had just covered it up we would have somehow missed the possible greatness of a hole in your living room wall, so we've continued on. Right now all of the walls are patched and ready for paint in the rest of my living room. The hole itself needed a lot of work: plaster and lath ripped out, electrical wires re-routed, a place for a future mini light fixture, new drywall up, and eventually, some carpet. It's a lot of work.

But here's where we talk about Matt. He's super handy. He really is- I don't question his skill or level of ability because even if he doesn't know how to do something, he can not only figure it out but he also has a contractor friend he can call to get some tips and advice. So basically- he is capable of doing most anything around the house. Hell, he was instrumental in putting the addition to the house on (yet.. the laundry sink is a project he continues to stall...) so I have to give credit where it's due. The problem here is that he starts off with all of this motivation and a clear plan... and then it drops off to nothing. I have to then badger him to finish the project when it's in the worst and messiest state of it.

Last week I told him he HAD to start taking plaster and lath down because we aren't leaving this project hanging mid stream like everything else. So he does. But what he failed to do, which I feel is a critical step, is to put some drop cloths down. At least on the furniture. But no. Dust and shit EVERYWHERE.

 I inhaled so much dust I was wheezing like an asthmatic fat kid after gym glass and every time I had to blow my nose or sneeze? Black dust came out. I'm going to go ahead and assume my lungs are compromised.

But Matt didn't care. Instead, his little Antiques Roadshow heart BEAMED when he found not one, but two old things in the wall inside of secret cubby.

 A book from 1927 about house wiring.

 And a book of matches from when phone numbers were only five digits long. Am I the only one concerned that whoever did the wiring did it from a wiring-for-dummies book AND had matches handy?

 After realizing I probably have to have my furniture professionally cleaned because the dust is literally that thick on it, I simmered down long enough to demand Matt start putting drywall up in the hole.

 Which he did.

This is what it looks like when you kneel in the doorway to the cubby area. It's such a bizarre little space? But I don't know. I feel like I'll be able to do something with it. Hopefully.

Tonight Matt is (hopefully) going to start sanding drywall because this weekend? I paint the living room. No more prolonging this. My living room is a fucking DISASTER and part two of why it's a disaster is coming tomorrow.

Book Review: VOX by Nicholson Baker

Before I even start this review I am putting up a disclaimer. If you are a virgin, please don't read this. If you are offended by profane language- do not read this. If dirty, filthy, sexually explicit language is offensive to you, do not read this.

If you continue to read this and STILL are so offended that you feel the need to email me a complaint- please expect a nasty answer back. You cannot say I didn't warn you. ;)

So I should start this review by telling you I read this book for the first time when I was 16. And let me tell you something- I was a virgin, I didn't even have my first (real) boyfriend then and it scared the shit out of me. Eleven years later it's amazing. It's not scary, it's actually a really fun read.

Basically it's a single conversation between two complete strangers. Both strangers call the 1-900 number you see in the back of dirty magazines. (One called it from the back of a Juggs magazine, the other one Forum) And it's really interesting because they hook up and talk about a lot of random things. Sexual fantasies, things that are turn on/off's all the while they are some times masturbating. I mean, I don't think I can fully review this book to give it the justice. Instead, I'm going to type you a passage. To set it up, Abby talks of a dream/series of images she had about painting the hallway of her apartment at color called paper lantern. This is only an excerpt but to leave you on a pleasant note....

"And so three painters materialized, and then suddenly there was a large hole in teh wall, about three feet off the floor, big enough so that I could fit through so that my legs were standing in the front hall and yet my head and upper body were in the living room. The hole was finished off and lined with sheepskin. I had nothing on. My hands were resting on two full paint cans. But the strange thing was the cans of paint were warm. There was one painter doing the living room, and the other two doing the hall, where my lower body was. The painter I could see didn't seem to notice me..." and it continues for a while until...

"And then I heard him put down the roller and he planted his hands high on my ass, holding my hips, and then he did an amazing thing. I felt his whole weight go on his hands, and on my back too, and he was apparently supporting himself like a gymnast, entirely on his hands, with his knees bent and his legs apart, and then a secon dlater I felt this burning blunt nub press against my Opulent Opal tockhole, and then kind of urge itself a little ways in."

Um, yeah. There's more. Like two more pages of just THAT little scene which involves something (there were three painters) in each of her um..holes. Three painters, 3 holes. Use your imagination.

SO..if you like a good dirty read- this is for you. If you aren't seeing any action in your bedroom, this is a good read. If you get grossed out and think you are corrupting yourself if you feel a little tingle down below this book is definitely not for you. ;)