I HAVE A MANCAVE NOW, BITCHES. By this I mean we realised we’ve got an attic that we haven’t been using since ever. It houses a bed our guests sleep in (that would be about 10 days a year), my CDs and DVDs which I play 0 days a year and a miniature sauna we use when we remember it exists, which is rarely. Other than that it mostly contained mess. So now it has officially become mine.
Once the little problems – like the fact wifi doesn’t reach there which kind of negates my idea of using the mancave to look at porn Tumblrs without Husby knowing, as opposed to current looking at porn Tumblrs with Husby knowing – have been resolved, I decided to properly inaugurate it. What does a real man do in a real mancave? That’s right! He drinks whiskey, invites girls and smokes cigars. Unfortunately whiskey makes me violently ill, I don’t really know any girls (plus I’m an introvert), so I had to smoke a cigar.
One of my big decisions this year has been quitting tobacco. I already quit most things that you’re not supposed to be doing, except chocolate (but I only buy 105% cocoa decaf non-fat non-gluten non-sugar one from GOOP, okay?) (I totally don’t). Quitting tobacco is so easy I’ve already done it twice this year. Then I gave up on the idea which is partly because I realised that what I used to do after a meal was chew on snus – I think cigarettes are gross, pipe is great but too much work and also Husby does not allow smoke in his presence. Then I quit snus and instead of chewing tobacco I started chewing more food. Not because I was hungry but because I got so used to the fact that after I finish eating I put something in my mouth. And not even Husby wants to have sex five times a day. Yes, I eat often.
Quitting tobacco also has other unpleasant effects, like the fact that I miss it. Which makes me grumpy. Which makes Husby’s life difficult. Which ultimately makes my life difficult too. I know I will shorten my life expectancy by using snus again, but I will also potentially extend my marriage lifespan and maybe that’s weird, but I would like that. Also I am very lazy and if there’s anything that can make my life easier AND allow me to gain less weight, it’s welcome in my life. But snus takes a long time to arrive from Israel (I am not joking, if you want to know why that is, look up EU laws). So I poured myself a pint of
whiskey green tea, let in all the girls nobody, fired up a cigar and started doing the manliest thing possible, which is fixing all my Spotify playlists and making cover art for them. It was awesome. Until things happened.
First thing that happened was the fire alarm going off. This thing is unfortunately hanging right over my desk which was NOT MY IDEA but it is definitely going to move elsewhere now. I panicked, tried to jump on my chair, but since my chair is one of those executive ones with wheels underneath I just almost gave myself whiplash, grabbed a regular chair and got on it. You know those fire alarms have buttons that are supposed to stop the sound? NOT THIS ONE. This one has a button that does fuck all. Thank you button makers for making it. If I were Putin and this was the red button and I pressed it I would be very much unimpressed. Anyway, the sound, which is not unlike having an ambulance siren in your living room, continued. Possibly because I was now very close to the device, but didn’t think of putting the cigar down first – I don’t deal with fire alarms all that often. So I almost swallowed the thing, coughed violently, almost (almost! I am doing well!!!) set the place on fire, got ash all over everything, jumped off the chair, disposed of the cancer stick and got back up. Unfortunately I didn’t know how to take it off the ceiling, because it’s not something I practice before smoking a cigar in my mancave, so I pulled it off the ceiling and pulled the battery out. Then I waited for a few minutes with baited breath (and Christina Aguilera off just in case) to see if neighbours come to check on me. They didn’t, and I don’t know whether to be happy about that or not.
The thing is also that Husby really, really does not like the smell of tobacco smoke. He doesn’t mind pipe tobacco too much, except it makes him violently cough even when he’s not the one smoking it. Also, which is the worst, he doesn’t mention it. But I still know what he is thinking because that’s what happens when you’ve been married as long as us (seven months). So I decided to try and subject him to the stink as little as possible and wear special clothes. Basically ones that I don’t wear in other spots and that don’t absorb smoke too much. So I was wearing biker leather pants, a leather vest and a very old, somewhat burnt sweater (did I mention there’s not much working heating in my mancave yet?) which were now covered in cigar ash, I was holding a plastic device I tore off the ceiling and the place was, well, yes, I now noticed, rather foggy. This was not how I would like to present myself to neighbours checking whether I am dying. Or, in fact, to anybody, including leather fetishists because that sweater and that vest REALLY don’t go well together. I might be a manly man with his own mancave but I still have standards, thank you. You know how women wouldn’t want to be found dead in certain sorts of underwear? Well, I wouldn’t want to be found dead in this sweater coupled with biker leathers.
One of the reasons I decided to wear biker leathers was… okay, it was ALSO that I was in a mancave… and it was ALSO because it’s cold in there… but also because leather fetish looks like so much fun even though I don’t actually share it and all those leather guys smoke cigars and somehow it fit together. The picture I added to this post comes from Wolverine mod for Sims 4, because 1) it’s the only one that has a cigar in it and 2) THAT JACKET. I wasn’t dressed quite so ridiculously, but not too far either.
So this wasn’t going well, although my Spotify library was by now very neat. Still, I had half a cigar, a dismantled fire alarm on my desk and a somewhat stinky room. So I opened the window, because, well, what can you do. This did not increase the temperature inside. At this point I got a bit desperate for ideas, so I went back downstairs, grabbed bunny slippers and went back to mancave. Bunny slippers and biker leathers are so special you can’t find a mod for Sims 4 like that. I finished my cigar, enjoying it somewhat less than expected with the window open and my bits freezing, then put together the fire alarm again. I wasn’t sure if I broke it or not, so just in case I pressed the button thinking it’s like a test. It probably is, because the siren started again AND WOULD NOT FUCKING STOP. I kid you not. So I tore it off the ceiling again, tore out the battery again, waited 10 seconds, put it back in and tried to hang it back. Unfortunately it looks like I sort of broke something by tearing the whole thing down forcefully off the ceiling twice. So it now hangs at a bit of funny angle and I am NOT pressing the button to see if it works. I guess if the building burns down without siren noises wailing it will mean that it didn’t. Well, thank you producers of fucked up buttons, you now burned down my unheated, slightly stinky mancave (and probably everything else in the building) with your fire alarm. I hope you are pleased with yourselves.
That kind of put me out of the mood for mancaving, so I cleaned up the cigar remains, gave a few untrusting looks to the fire alarm, left the window open for a bit longer just in case and went to take a very long shower to hopefully get rid of the smell. Then I grabbed a healthy snack and went back upstairs, because I couldn’t leave my computer there with windows open and potentially murderous fire alarms. I closed the window and got distracted by shiny (by which I mean Spotify was still open and I haven’t finished my “best of 2012” playlist). No, I am not heading anywhere dramatic. No more fire alarms happened, probably because I broke it. No more cigars happened either. Green tea got a bit cold and I guess so did the girls waiting outside, because I can’t hear the doorbell in here.
You see. My healthy protein snack tastes and looks like cat food. Dry cat food. I mean, I never ate cat food myself, but a good friend tells me it has no taste at all. Which makes me think healthy snack simply IS cat food. So my day consisted of nerding out with a cigar, cold tea and cat food and ruining a fire alarm, while very questionably dressed and really, really cold. Also it took me a while to realise – you do get used to the smell – that the whole room STILL reeks of cigar smoke, which means I am going to shower again when this post is finished.
I consider the mancave a major success and can’t wait to do it all again, except I will remove the battery from fire alarm first and possibly wait for warmer weather.