Are you really surprised that I’m once again writing about the joys of setting up Christmas trees? Huh? Did you really think Episode 1 was going to be the one and only tree session for me this season? I did. I should have known better.
After Monica had gotten up this morning and puttered about, she came back into the bedroom for what I figured was a chat about a new shirt idea or something. The moisture in her eyes immediately told me something else. Then she told me something else. Indeed, I was about to get bent over again. It seems the Christmas tree had pissed itself and soaked the surrounding carpet. More specifically, the biggest hunk of worthless shit tree stand in the history of tree stands had a leak. What a pleasant way to start a new day! As if life isn’t full of enough challenges, an inanimate object was now laughing at me after causing me grief two years in a row. Piss me off once, I’ll turn a blind eye. Piss me off twice, tree stand will die.
I proceeded to rise from my place of slumber and get on with things. I had not planned on fiddling with the tree until it was time to take it down in a couple weeks, but as people keep reminding me through this lovely period of my existence, life throws you curve balls. I drove Monica to work and immediately set off to the store to find a replacement stand. I must admit I would prefer to find the problem when shit breaks and take a crack at fixing it rather than plug the landfill with waste, but this was no time to fuck around. This was personal. I could hear the shit stand laughing at me. No way it was going to win this round.
I cruised around the hardware store in search of the perfect stand (sadly, I did not purchase a welder once again). I suddenly stumbled upon a pile of tree stands, but was initially disappointed to discover there was only one model available. Odd, I thought. For such a big box store, I was certain they would have much more selection than this. I would soon understand why only one model was on display. The price was a little thick, too. In fact, it cost more than the tree, but upon closer inspection, it seemed worth it. The stand is all metal with beefy stabilizer bolts and thick welds. Fuckin’ A, I thought. If it has been welded with a bead thicker than my pinky finger, this sonofabitch will be able to hold anything I can throw at it. Technically, I am short on cash while building the shirt business and shouldn’t be throwing around money, but like I mentioned before, this was no time to fuck around. Besides, if the biggest hunk of worthless shit tree stand were to fail for a third time, the explosive damage I would cause by annihilating everything within a 10 foot radius of the tree would cost much more than a new stand.
Tree stand purchased, I made my way back home to start the ugly job of transferring the tree and cleaning up whatever mess lurked beneath. Check out below for some details on some of the steps taken for the transplant.
Below: The first step in fixing any situation is to make a pot of coffee.
Below: The comforting words of awesome on the box of the new stand.
Below: Notice the welds. New stand means business.
Below: See the mess the shit stand left me? Revenge will be had.
Below: Time for the big guns to come out for cleanup duty.
Below: A couple pals are gonna teach the shit stand a lesson it will never forget.
Below: I have no idea if this will work, but I put a fan down on the carpet to dry it out. In my opinion, the carpet is having a pretty good day – sucked and blown.