Let’s Get Real
In August of 2020, I told you guys that I was going to try to make a living off of My Crappy Blog because freaking COVID destroyed my (formerly) successful business and what else was I supposed to do with my time? Power watch Netflix? (Because that happened…) Shop on Amazon for things I don’t need with money I don’t have? (The delivery guy was a guest at our wedding…)
Anyway, I promised to post something new every week. And I did post something new every week, up until a few months ago when I fell off the wagon, and I think I may have twisted something because I just haven’t felt right since.
My Dishwasher Stinks
In the five years I’ve had my dishwasher, I’ve never cleaned the inside. I mean, it’s self cleaning, right? It gets washed with, like, every single use. So, I never really gave it much thought until it started to smell. Apparently, you’re supposed to clean the inside of your dishwasher once in a while. (I should’ve known. Self cleaning ovens are a big fat lie too.)
So, wtf was causing my dishwasher to smell? To the naked eye, it looked squeaky clean, but something must be causing that odor… It was a mystery, I tell you. (One that could have easily been solved by consulting the user manual, but what fun would that be?) Keep reading to follow my investigation: The Case of the Smelly Dishwasher. (Spoiler alert: I cracked this case wide open and my dishwasher now smells like a freaking meadow.)
You know what really bugs me? BUGS. I hate them. Yeah, I guess they’re necessary, or whatever, for a balanced ecosystem, or something. I don’t care. They need to stay out of my house (and my face) or suffer the deadly consequences. For I am a murderer of bugs. An annihilator of insects. This post is about my buggy experiences and my serial bug killer ways. Ants, termites and bed bugs need to GTFO, or die.
I’m Getting Crafty
I don’t often talk about my crafty side (because this is a DIY blog and the world doesn’t need yet another freaking craft blog…), but I am a woman of many talents. In addition to all of the badass DIY stuff I do, I can also sew, knit, crochet, and I even needlepoint on occasion. Check out this purse I made for my wedding (which is less than two months away!!!)…
Sofa, Still So Good
Once upon a time, there lived a handsome sofa named Saybridge. I wasn’t looking for love, but, as the proverbial saying goes, that’s when love found me… My relationship with Saybridge began six years ago in a romantic Macy’s showroom. We’re still together, but… are we still happy? Wouldn’t you like to know…
(Yes, I get that’s why you’re here. Keep reading.)
Imagine If You Will
Imagine you’re in the shower. No, no. Don’t look down. Just close your eyes. Ahh. A nice, relaxing, hot shower. Soooo nice. Let your mind wander… Contemplate your place in the universe and why you exist on Earth and what happens when we die and why Paul Rudd hasn’t aged in 25 years and… Whoa. Okay, you’ve spent way too much time in there. You’re getting all pruney. Time to get out. You turn the water off, reach for your towel and…
Roof, Justice, and the American Way.
Faster than the DMV. More productive than the U.S. Congress. Able to sleep ten hours in a single night. Look! Up on that roof! It’s a girl! She’s afraid! It’s…
Guys, it’s just me. And I am freaking out up here.
A crappy house is a pretty good crime deterrent. I think the bad guys must figure that a crappy house probably contains crappy stuff, so they don’t even bother. (Low return on crime investment, I guess.) But our house is looking less and less crappy these days, and the less crappy our house looks, the more security becomes a concern.
With that in mind, Schmoopy bought one of those Ring Floodlight Cameras to mount on the garage. We love it. Not only is the motion light very convenient, but knowing we’ll have video of the bad guys when they rob us is strangely comforting.
So far, we haven’t recorded any criminal activity, but we were surprised by what we found was going on in the wee hours. We had no idea…
He Shed, She Shed
I have a shed. It sucks. Not because it’s old (that’s ageism), or because it’s broken (which it is). It sucks because it’s a cheap shed and you get what you pay for; a crappy shack that’s too small for an adult to stand up straight in, with cantankerous doors that are always looking for a fight, and metal walls that sound like high-school-theater-thunder when you accidentally (on purpose) run into them with the lawn mower. This crappy shed was an appropriate sidekick to my crappy house back in the day, but the time has come to kick it to the curb. My Crappy House is too classy now to associate with such basic trash.
Beware of the Mess
Some of you have asked me for an updated house tour. I would love to do that for you, but the honest truth is that I can’t right now because I am a slob. Don’t believe me? This is my office…