Other equally good titles for this article could have been:

Craig’s List Hot Tub (And Other Bad Ideas)

Build Your Own Home Mosquito Nest

Like Hammer Onto Big Toe

Creeping Mold in the Carpets and Other Tales of Horror

They were not chosen due to the fact that they only cover one aspect of this spiral of fail that could only have been achieved through a combination of gross incompetence, stupidity, testosterone, and stubborn defiance which has become increasingly obvious to be par for the course when dealing with my brothers.

So, this spiral staircase into Hell begins at a familiar destination, Craig’s List.  Part online trading post and part hooker solicitation service Craigs List is home to (mostly) defective and useless junk that other people attempt to sell to suckers for a quick buck.  With that in mind, in walks my brothers deciding to purchase a hot tub to go into my mother’s condo.  Of course a discount hot tub that they haven’t even planned the logistics of how the fuck to even get it inside of the house could be nothing but an amazing idea.  So the younger of the two brothers of mine shows up at the house one day with a hot tub in the bed of his hitch trailer (in true alcoholic conservative fashion he runs a lawn care business), several of his retarded ‘friends’ (people that hang out with him so they can smoke his weed), and absolutely no plan whatsoever.

There are many layers to this onion of failure, but I think it would be wise to reveal them in the same order I figured them out, for maximum comedy.   I’d like to preface the following by saying that from the start I thought this hot tub thing was a terrible idea.  A local radio guy I listen to recently had purchased a hot tub on, you guessed it, craig’s list and it was defective to say the least.  I think I even told my brothers his tale of woe, but being young and with that ‘whatever I do what I want’ attitude they basically ignored me.  Allow me to also state, and I say this with as little arrogance as possible, that usually when I think something is a bad idea (especially when it’s a plan or idea of my family’s)  it usually turns out to be even worse than I imagine it to be.

The wooden frame around the tub, is soaked at the bottom and pretty slimy/moldy.  Always a good sight.  Much like cave men banging to rocks together to produce sparks, they kind of swarmed around the tub with a curiosity that was almost childlike.  By the by, nothing spells fancy quite like a hot tub and the neighbors were of course, all coming along to offer ‘help’ or stand around and stare at my brother’s awkward attempts at getting this thing inside the house.  Unable to come up with a plan to get this giant ass thing into the house, because it was in a frame, with all the pipes and the pumps (so it weighed a fucking ton)… they fell back on the old standby.  Brute force.  So all of them hoisted this thing on it’s side, which turned out to be a really bad idea and coincidentally the only way to get it in the house.  It was a bad idea becaue they didn’t bother to check to see if the thing was actually bolted to the frame properly, so the whole time they are having to keep the hot tub from falling out of the frame while moving up the ramped sidewalk into the front door.

This posed another problem for our intrepid adventurers, who failed to account for the fact that the archway that leads to the front door was low enough to just barely clip the corner of the tub, impeding their progress.  Undeterred they dragged the corner onto the lawn, carving a nice gouge, not that it mattered, mom’s lawn is about 3 square feet if that.  This gave them the perfect angle to get to the coveted door.  This lead them directly to snag #2… the doorway itself.  It has a step, and factoring the archway which was keeping them from lifting it very much as well as the door itself, which was finding it’s own unique way to cock block them, led to the predictable argument.  Of course fighting, while already annoyed and in the middle of grueling physical activity may seem like a bad idea and rather childish, this has NEVER stopped my brothers before.  When it comes to fighting at the most retarded moments possible, they are fucking pro at it.  So they begin shouting about how they should be either lifting or pushing / pushing or lifting and at this point the only thing that stops them is for someone (me in the case) to demonstrate how they are both equally wrong.

First suggestion, use a wedge instead of attempting to lift the heavy ass hot tub into the house over the door’s step.  I had to, disappointingly, explain what a wedge was in the process and how it would make it so all we’d have to do is push it into the house.  Then I had to find a wedge, which ended up being two thick slabs of cork wood.  Amazingly it slid right over the step, and that’s where we hit snag #3, the arm that holds the door open. You know, the kind that looks like a shock with a little washer on the metal bar to hold the door open?  Anyway, they were apparently baffled as to how to overcome this obstacle, which was irritating because they once again began arguing, this time over by if they should just push it or push it even HARDER.

By this point we had an old man, two dads, me, my brothers, and two of their retarded stoner buddies just trying to get this thing inside the damn house.  While they argued I went insde around the back door, and using my tool set I simply unscrewed the door arm and removed it. All the while explaining to one of the dads how dumb of an idea this is, while he drank a beer and laughed as I tried to unscrew the damned thing while they were pushing a hot tub into it repeatedly.  Which, I’m sure to an outside observer was probably pretty comical looking.  Me crouched, trying to unscrew it while a hot tub bumps into me every five seconds nearly knocking me over all the while yelling at them to stop pushing like idiots and wait five minutes.

After that it came in the house, we dragged it over the carpet and slammed it down on the back porch (which is screened in).

The next day, when I come in from the side door I notice a water stain on the cheap green carpeting on the porch. There was water still inside the piping I assume.

The day after that it started to smell.

The day after that… mold.

Then they decide to full the tub, and it uh…. shockingly doesn’t work.  In a fit of rage they drain it, then fill it back up again, then drain it again, in various attempts to get it to start / getting pissed when it doesn’t.  This cycle of idiocy gets the neighborhood board to notice our building’s spiked water bill.  At this point I discovered they asked if the could bring in a hot tub as they were not sure if it was allowed or not and the lady in charge told them she’d get back with them.  Since they had heard other people had hot tubs they decided to not wait and just assumed that they would be allowed to have it.  Apparently they should have waited, because they were told, bluntly, that they could not have the hot tub because it raised the water bill too high.  That’s right, after all that, that’s to my brother’s collective impatience, we had a useless leaky mold-spreading hot tub sitting on our back porch.  Good times!  Apparently the hot tubs that did exist had been grandfathered in (in other words people had them before the new rule restricting them was put in place so they could keep them) and ours, clearly, hadn’t.

So my younger brother, for the last time, drained the tub.  Using a shop vac, leaving the stagnant ass water inside of it, on the porch, in Florida.  This was maybe a month and a half ago.

Have I ever told you that Florida has mosquitoes?  Lots and lots of them?  No?  Well now I have.  Oh and they love stagnant water.   The more ass-smelling the better!  So over the last week or so we have noticed, upon waking in the morning, bug bites all over our legs and arms.  There are mosquitoes all over the house now, over the course of writing this article I have slain two mosquitoes so far.

We didn’t know where the mosquitoes were coming from, as I didn’t know about the shop vac until recently.  Either way, the hot tub had to go, so they decided to destroy it once and for all.

… but the beast refused to go down without a fight! It was a chorus of shouting (both my brothers decided to ‘help’ one another in removing the tub), hammers smashing fingers, nails landing on feet, people stepping on boards with nails on them, people being pushed onto boards with nails on them (when they started fighting again) and various other acts of carnage that made me seriously consider setting the porch on fire with both of them in it. The best part was how there was some stagnating water still it the tub itself, leaving it to smell like a thousand mummified turds being awakened from their ancient and stinky slumber to torment the living.  It smelled so bad the oldest of my two younger brothers (by virtue of 7 minutes) decided the best solution would be to pour a bottle of pine sol in it.  Creating an amazingly disgusting cocktail of odors not soon to be repeated in this world or the next.  It was like if someone had poured manure into the mixing vats at the pine sol factory, it was a sharp and foul smell that burned itself into your nasal cavities.  This was doubly retarded because, of course, to get the tub OUT of the house they needed to turn it…. sideways.  So they ended up, while dragging the tub itself, minus the frame and the pipes that they had broken off, to smear a stain of the delicious tainted pine sol across the living room to linger.

They then proceeded to haul the tub to the local skating rink, which is not open during the days, and kindly left it on their property somewhere that they believe ‘will cause someone to throw it out.’


My Brother's attempts at using brute force to pull the tub apart. Brute force, part duex. The results of brute force become apparent.

The demonic tub finally gets exorcised from my house. Rubble from the aftermath.

This is why poor people can’t have nice things.

Thank god I’m not blood related to these people.

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