Renovations are no small task, and in order to help out our readers, we’ve hired an anthropomorphic hammer named Wrenchy to answer readers’ questions
Wrenchy the Hammer (hammer) // Contributor
Cameron Skorulski (he/him) // Production Manager
Hi! My name is Wrenchy the Hammer and I’m here to solve all your household problems! In 1979, I was a contractor in Worcester, Massachusetts who was hired to fix a house, but I ran off the second I got paid. Jokes on me, though, ‘cause the house belonged to a bunch of magic freaks or somethin’ who cursed me to live as a fuckin’ hammer. They said they were witches or somethin’. I don’t fuckin’ know. Anyway, they say the only way I can break the curse is by doing what I failed to do when I was human, by helping people with their renovations. So, help me get my fuckin’ life back by letting me give you some home renovation advice, now how’s that sound? I don’t mean to be dramatic or nothin’, but, uh, my eternal salvation depends on it, yeah?
Q: My partner and I recently moved into a home with a broken central vacuum system. I want to fix it, while my partner says it’s not worth the trouble. What’s your opinion?
Here’s the thing: a broken central vacuum is a huge opportunity. You got tubes runnin’ alls throughout your house, and—if I were you—I’d throw some hamsters in those tubes. Hamster house. Or, even rats. Get some rats in those tubes. My old lady, y’know, before I became a hammer or whatever, she loved rats, little pet rats, and you know what? Those fuckers are cute. I know they ain’t for everyone but what can I say, I miss my wife. She passed away in 2009.
Q: I live in an apartment and I’ve recently come across some mold. My landlord is unreliable and I can’t afford to pay a professional to come fix it. Is there a way I can handle this situation myself?
This generation, my god. Back in my day, we used to paint our walls with lead for god’s sake. Mold ain’t nothin’ to cry about. It’s good for your immune system to get a little mold in ya! When I was 14, my grandmother used to make me eat dirt. True story. But I understand that mold ain’t the best thing to look at, so if you’re impatient, I’d throw a fresh bit of lead paint on it. It’s got all sorta mold killin’ chemicals in it anyway, I bet.
Q: My husband is obsessed with hamburgers, to the point that he bought a hamburger shaped house without telling me. At first I was angry, but as soon as we moved in I fell in love with the place. My hubby keeps telling me this is because hamburgers are “endlessly alluring” and have “perfect feng shui.” Is it true that if a hamburger was a house, it would have perfect feng shui?
Lady, what the hell are you talkin’ about? Do I look like I know what a “fung shoo-ey” is? Now I may be being all repetitious-like now but uhh, it’s been a while since I was a human being and I haven’t learned a lot of new terms. And, it’s not like I don’t want to, it’s just– it’s hard to understand the internet when you’re a hammer. You wouldn’t understand.
Now, hamburgers, that’s somethin’ I DO know about, and if I could live inside of one of those motherfuckers, that’d be the good life. A pillow of pickle slices, a blanket of cheese, some uh, onions? Mayonnaise? Fuck, I mean, beautiful sandwhich. I mean the hamburger, it’s one of the reasons why the U.S. is the GREATEST PLACE ON EARTH BABY GO PATS GO BRUINS GO SOX! Alright, I’m done.
Now these fuckin’ liberal student journos asked me to write a little conclusion piece to this with some more general homecare so here we go: It’s all about the materials you’re usin’, like if you build anythin’ using shit? You’re gonna get shit. Uhh, fuckin’, always buy houses built in the 1950s or earlier. I know they’re fuckin’ old now but they built shit with real gumption back then, they used real shit to build, y’know like before all the environmental and safety regulations made the world a boring place or whatever. Anyway, can someone get those witches to turn me back into a real human being now? My kids won’t talk to me cause I’m a fuckin’ hammer and I miss them. Joey’s goin’ to college now for computer shit, can you believe it? And, my sweet angel Mellisa is a state champion swimmer! Do you know how hard it is to miss your children’s lives because they don’t believe you when you say you’re their father because you’ve turned into a fuckin’ hammer? It’s just. . . You know what it is? It’s asinine. It’s fuckin’ asinine. But, whatever. Bye.