So to get back to my original point, I am now violently opposed to doing anything myself. I think there should be a federal law requiring people who publish do-it-yourself books to include a warning, similar to what the Surgeon General has on cigarette packs, right on the cover of the book, stating:

WARNING: ANY MONEY YOU SAVE BY DOING HOMEOWNER PROJECTS YOURSELF WILL BE OFFSET BY THE COST OF HIRING COMPETENT PROFESSIONALS TO COME AND REMOVE THEM SO YOU CAN SELL YOUR HOUSE, NOT TO MENTION THE EMOTIONAL TRAUMA ASSOCIATED WITH LISTENING To THESE PROFESSIONALS, AS THEY RIP OUT LARGE HUNKS OF A PROJECT, LAUGH AND YELL REMARKS SUCH AS: “HEY! GET A LOAD OF THIS.”

So now you are asking yourself: “Okay, if I’m not supposed to do anything myself, how am I supposed to get my house fixed?” The answer is: contractors. A contractor is a man with a pickup truck and a set of business cards that say something like:

ED BROGAN Inc. General Contractor

All Types of Construction and Repair—30 Years Experience—Quality Work Fully Bonded and Insured Free Estimates—Reasonable Rates

“We Never Show up”

No, I am of course kidding about that last line. They won’t tell you that they never show up; this is a secret that they are sworn to uphold during the graduation ceremony at the Contractor Academy, where each man receives his Official Contractor’s battered toolbox, which contains, not tools, but thousands and thousands of traditional handcrafted contractor excuses for not showing up, such as:

“I strained my back.”

“My truck has a flat tire.”

“My wife is having a baby.”

“My uncle died.”

“My wife strained her back.”

“My uncle has a flat tire.”