Say there, reader; are you a man? Do you live in a house? If you answered yes to both of those questions, then what the hell are you sitting around reading internet articles for? Don’t you have shelves to put up? Lawnmowers to repair? Garden sheds to weep quietly in?
You see, being a man isn’t all stubble and penis having–there’s intrinsic, inescapable duties coded into your very genes. You are man, and DIY is your eternal curse. But DIY is hard. And boring. And requires you to put down your Xbox controller. And dear god surely there is a way out of this? Fear not, errant man-child, Man Cave Daily has got your back. There is a way to solve all your irksome DIY challenges, with just a minimum of effort, a little imagination and a touch of Man Cave Magic (vodka.) We call it “Mandalizing”, and it’s the best way to “improve” your home without having to be in any way competent.
(Man Cave Daily understands that some men have fully operational toolkits, with organized spanner collections and little pencils to put behind their ears. This article is not for those men. Away with you, handy men! Go and assemble a flatpack wardrobe without reading the instructions or whatever it is you freaks do with your time.)
Doors are funny things. You open them every day, but you never really realize that they’re there until you accidentally put your face through one in your weekly Pro-Wrestling re-enactment sessions. Now you need to hang a new door and, surprise surprise, this is not as easy as it looks. Even if the hinges managed to survive your face assault, you still need to drill the door in exactly the right places. What are we? Robots? Drilling robots? Heck no!
Have you ever considered the benefits of bead curtains? Yes, they may make your doorway look like a magical portal to a dimension populated entirely by middle-aged pot dealers, but on the plus side you can pretty much hang them with duct tape. And they’re a lot easier on the face than your average, stupid wooden door.
Putting Up Shelves
The internet is slowly eliminating the need to own physical copies of things, but until the glorious day when everything imaginable can be downloaded directly into your brain while you sit and choke slowly on cheese paste, you’ll still need shelves to put things on. The problem with shelves is that, in order for them to work properly, they need to be straight. That’s sort of the point. Otherwise you have to glue things to them, and that only works if you never need those things again, ever. To achieve an appropriate level of straightness, you’ll probably need a spirit-level. Who owns a spirit-level? Nobody that’s who. I doubt they even exist.
With a little bit of attitude, straight shelves needn’t be a problem. After all, this isn’t the fifties– there’s no need to sit in your perfectly perpendicular kitchen and puff quietly on your pipe while you wait for youtube to be invented. Everything’s zany now, and if your shelves happen to teeter at frightening angles, it’s just because you’re kooky! And if priceless family heirlooms should slide helplessly to a fractured doom, it’s because you’re bohemian! And if people should start avoiding you in the street it’s because you’re an artist, dammit!
Unless your floor is made from the polished oak of a particularly charismatic tree, you’re sort of expected to have carpets. If anything, they keep your feet warm and splinter free, and provide a place for your various stains to hide. However, eventually, when there is more stain than fibre, you’ll find yourself having to lay a new carpet. Surely you should just be able to flop the carpet down and let gravity do the work? Won’t the carpet just eventually settle into the room like Jell-o? No. Nothing is ever as easy as Jell-o. So, say hello to an immediate future filled with heavy lifting, precise measuring, and probably gashing your thumb with a box-cutter.
You know what? Screw carpets. Would our barbarian forefathers have demanded wall-to-wall insulating pastel colors on their floors? Heck no, they would have decorated their floors the same way they decorated everything else– with dead things. Why not pay homage to your grizzly ancestry by just buying a selection of animal skin rugs? They don’t have to be real, as long as they are warm, snuggly, and have faces locked in terrifying death grimaces.
Ugh. Hanging wallpaper. Possibly the most tedious of all DIY jobs. Pasting? Smoothing? Lining up patterns? It’s like kindergarden for the children god hates. And for what? Some boring pattern that you cease to even notice after a few months? If this sounds like a huge waste of time, that’s because it most certainly is.
You know what’s easier than hanging wallpaper? Hanging posters. Four lumps of blue-tack and you’re golden. Why settle for floral print when you can have a devastating mosaic tribute to 80’s metal bands? Or a kaleidoscope of vintage centerfolds? Or maybe just a Warholish repetition of Christina Hendrickson’s legendary front? Classy!
Something’s wrong with your toilet. Dude, I don’t know exactly what’s wrong because I’m not a plumber. If I was a plumber I’d probably tell you that Satan has opened a doorway to the hell dimensions in your toilet. Seriously, it’s like Ghostbusters 2 in there except less pink slime and more… you know. Poop. Lots of poop. We should probably just board it up and pretend you don’t have a toilet.
You know what rarely goes wrong? Gravity! It’s the most reliable thing on the planet–go try it out. Jump off something. Did you hit the ground or fly up into space? Exactly! So why rely on baffling flushing mechanisms when gravity can do your plumbing for you? Just dig a big old hole under your garden shed and carve a crescent moon into the door. Presto, no more plumbing problems. Other than the huge pit of crap under your shed, obviously.
So there you have it, rather than actually solving problems like some kind of sucker, you’ve carefully masked them with a thin veneer of polished-awesome. Now, as you relax in your beaded haven of faux dead tigers and sexy hair metal, you can be secure in both your comfort and your manliness. And best of all, you haven’t learned a thing. Not a single goddamned thing.