Tag Archives: house

Witness the ten stages of tiny house show indoctrination on a Friday night

So I came home from work after a LONG week, ate all the sushi, drank all the wine, and watched ALL the tiny house shows. And I have QUESTIONS. Ahem:
1. Should we all be doing this to be as mobile as possible when the apocalypse comes, which is, by my accounting, going to be next week? Or just face it like ADULTS and accept death with grace? I’m leaning towards death with grace at this point TBH.
2. Seriously, though, how do couples or, like, FULL FAMILIES (I’m talking full grown adults with two children and a dog) handle this shit? What if someone gets norovirus and (sorry, gross, but let’s be real) has it coming out both ends and no one else can use the composting (EW) toilet or fold-down bathroom sink for 24 hours because their toddler is goddamned mess? NO ONE IS THINKING THIS THROUGH MY ANXIETY SPIKES JUST CONSIDERING THIS AND I DON’T HAVE A TODDLER OR EVEN A GOLDFISH BUT I HAVE HAD NOROVIRUS AND YOU TINY LIVING MOFOS DON’T HAVE A FUCKING CLUE WHAT YOU ARE IN FOR.
3. I would fall out of any number of tiny house lofts while just mildly tipsy in a hot minute. And/or hit my head on the short ceiling, pass out, and die of a brain bleed. Tell my mom I love her and make sure to sell my tiny house to a hipster couple who make artisanal butter for a living (this is in one of the shows I watched, I swear to all higher powers and deities).
4. I don’t care how cute rustic/modern/industrial/parisian chic AF your tiny house is, you still have to park it in an RV park next to THAT dude in his trailer. You know, THAT dude, who may or may not be on the run after killing and eating several ex-wives in six different states since 1995. THAT dude.
5. COMPOSTING TOILETS. I would die before touching a composting toilet. Moving on.
6. None of these random people actually want to “live tiny.” They’re just cheap AF and huge whiners. They go into the house and are like, “Oh, we don’t have a soaker tub or double ovens, sad!” Well, of course you don’t, you morons, because your house is ON WHEELS and is smaller than a dog crate! Don’t act shocked when you can’t get a palace for 30,000 bucks and a sliver of land in the middle of Montana. Nobody’s putting marble floors in a 200 square-foot shack with a composting toilet for you, I don’t care HOW sad your rescue dog’s origin story or your husband’s organic beard is.
7. Ooooh, that one’s cute, it has a murphy bed and–
8. NO, NO NOOOOO! I WILL NOT BE SUCKED INTO THIS! I WILL NOT! RESIST! RESIST!
9. Oh, but that one has a porch, and the washer-dryer unit is all-in-one, and–
10. NO JACKIE KEEP IT TOGETHER, DON’T FALL FOR IT, PUT THE WINE AWAY, GO TO BED, DON’T DO THIS, I KNOW 2017 HAS BEEN HARD, BUT YOU CAN’T FALL FOR THIS. DON’T LET TRUMP DO THIS TO YOU, YOU’RE NOT TWEE, YOU CAN STILL TURN BACK, DON’T–
….
….
So, what do you guys think of this one? I hear there’s a great RV park near my work where I could park it, and the neighbors are really nice…well, except for that one guy with the Confederate flag tshirt and the bloodshot eyes, but the composting toilet is really eco-friendly, and–
Oh God.
What…have I become?
Have I lived long enough to see myself become the tiny villain? Shudder.
Good night, all. Nolite te bastardes carborundorum tiny houses.