The Bruce Lee award for freaking incredible goes to…
I want to thank this man.
I want to thank him because now the pressure’s off. Someone’s already become the coolest handyman ever and I need not apply.
I’ve always wanted to want to be a handyman, comfortable with wood and hammers, bricks and mortar.
Not because that stuff interests me because it doesn’t. It’s because there’s a tweak of shame whenever I have to call a plumber to fix my leaky tap. That’s something, as a man and a provider blah blah, I should know how to do.
Now my father has practical, can do skills that allowed him to design and build his own home. He recently advised me on the problems of rising damp that was so comprehensive all I could say was ‘Uh-huh, what you said’.
Instead I’m full of geeky ‘who the fuck cares?’ skills. I’m pretty good at minesweeper and tetris. Not as good as this guy, who’s in-fucking-credible but I do alright.
Give me a keyboard and a mouse and I’m a pretty mean sniper/camper. I can tell you what’s good about anime, what’s bad about it and what’s good about it in a very bad way. I know my comics and I know where the movies were right and where they were wrong. You know, stuff to impress the ladies with.
Which leads me to a very important question. If I lived in a post-apocalyptic world what could I do? I don’t have any of those practical can do hammerin skills and while I’m a pretty good sniper in a computer game I’ve never fired a real gun in my entire life. Which means I wouldn’t last five minutes against people like this.
You can tell that she just can’t wait for the world to end and I’ve made a resolution.
No, I’m not going to learn how to shoot. It goes against my nature – I’m a lover, not a fighter barf barf barf.
I’m going to buy a book. A handyman 101 guide. I’m going to take it home so that when the world ends I can take it off the shelf, brush the dust off it and learn how not to make a house out of crap.
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