How To Denail a Board

How to denail a board in ten easy steps.

Materials Needed.

2 hammers

1 crowbar

A bunch of lumber that hates your guts has lots of nails in it.

Painkillers

Gloves

Step 1.

Place board between 2 sawhorses. If you do not have 2 sawhorses, place board on a upside down 5 gallon bucket and the giant stack of boards you have yet to denail. If you use the second method your lumber will be at knee height.

Step 2.

Flip board over so that the pointy nail ends are aiming up toward you.

Step 3.

Using your hammer, try to pound the nails until they are flush with the surface of the board. At this point the nails will go as limp as a straight mans cock at a pride parade and smush over on themselves. Using the claw of the hammer, try to straighten the nails. Repeat until over half the nails have broken off into unusable stumps.

Step 4.

Once you have pounded the nails through, flip the board over again so that the heads of the nails are now visible. Using the claw of the hammer, or the crow bar, attempt to remove the nails using a series of short jerking motions. None of the nails will come loose. Proceed to step 5.

Step 5.

Use the trick where you use the head of the hammer as a fulcrum for the crowbar. The crowbar will slide off and cut you.

Step 6.

Apply band aids to bleeding areas.

Step 7.

Get really angry. Get plumb mad dog Clint Eastwood angry. Manage to remove a few nails. At this point you should consider taking the pain killers.

Step 8.

You will need to curse at the remaining nails like you have never cursed at anything before. 'Son of a bitch' ain't gonna cut it. You need to call these nails 'Son's of a whore cunt' or maybe 'bastard shit fucking motherfuckers' Really get creative with it.

Step 9.

Do the last trick in your arsenal use the hammer to pound the end of the crow bar until the nail pops out. Immediately loose nail on the ground. You will hurt your hand in the process. Take more painkillers.

Step 10.

Repeat steps 5-9 until almost all of the nails are removed*. Become depressed over how many more boards you have to get through. Place board in the I-will-get-back-to-this-later-pile. Restart process again from step one.

And there you go! Remember not to get depressed and start drinking early in the day. It's hard to aim a hammer when you are drunk. Really hard.

Trust me on this one.

* Don't take anymore painkillers though. That would be bad.

Sledge Hammers and Waffles.

So yesterday and the day before that we have been working on tearing down the old barn. Which involved me using a sledge hammer. Yeah. Let me tell you something right now. Sledge hammers are fucking heavy. Also, I cannot aim one very well. Nonetheless it was extremely satisfying to take out my anger at the world on some old boards. I kept yelling things like 'I hate everything' and 'fuck the world' and my personal favorite 'bastard motherfuckers.'

Now the old barn was mostly on the ground, but not really. So we had to bash out boards until it fell over. Sometimes while standing on what was the roof because safety is apparently not important to us. Also there was a nail literally every two inches. I am not exaggerating for the sake of comedic effect here people.

Every. Two. Inches.

There were so many nails in the joists it looked like a comb. This baffles me completely. They didn't bother to put a foundation on the building, or you know, keep the roof repaired to any degree what so ever, but they put in so many, many nails. I can tell you one thing. Whoever built this was getting those nails for free. Somehow. Plus, I am fairly sure I have tetanus by now.

This morning I awoke to the sound of rain hitting the roof and thought 'oh thank god.' Since my spirits were high I rolled over and jokingly asked Scott if we could have waffles for breakfast.

Well I come if from feeding the animals and HE IS MAKING ME WAFFLES. I love him. Except for the fact that the waffles kept sticking to the waffles iron like grim death. It was like the waffles were dead set on ruining Scott's god damned morning. I kept wandering around the kitchen saying things like, 'It's okay I still love you' and 'I'm so sorry I said anything about waffles.' In the end he just made me pancakes and we pretended they were waffles.

This is how my chickens ended up with a nice waffle breakfast this morning. Which they had better fucking appreciate.

Ingrates.

The Barn Is Now My Enemy.

So today we attempted to demolish the barn. After of course fixing the brakes on our other car so we don't go careening off the side of a mountain because WV doesn't believe in guardrails.

First off we emptied out the barn, which was a god damned adventure. First off, my Dad believed that if it was free it was the right price. Even if he didn't need the object in question. Like his compulsive need to collect broken shelving. Not that he put anything on the shelves, mind you. They were laying on their backs and sides, presumably waiting for the slow release of death. There was also a large pile of doors, some of which were great, and others that were so flimsy I could move them by myself. Also there was piles of chains, horse tack, farm implements, roofing materials, trailer skirting, and enough rotting lumber to make a good sized pile of sadness.

However what you have to understand is that the barn was not really together anymore when we went to empty it. It was leaning at a very odd angle, and the only thing keeping it upright was a bunch of boards propped up on the outside and inside. Some of them were sitting on cinder blocks, others were just sunk into the earth. Tarps were strung up inside, which were the only things keeping the stuff inside dry.

Also, there is no floor.

When I say that I mean it literally. There was a sort of shelf on each side formed by the rotting remains of the floor, with boards slung over the chasm to create a place to walk. None of the boards were the same size, or evenly spaced, or secured to anything. Also, when I said there was no floor, I mean it. There was a good three feet or more between the boards and the dirt.

I boldly went in, passing things out to Scott. I waved him away many times when I was struggling with something, as he was the only one who could drive me to the hospital if I fell.

Then there were the rats. Plural.

The whole placed reeked of rat urine. Rat poo encrusted EVERYTHING. I moved a random cardboard box out of the barn, passed it Scott, only for him to look in it and say “there's something alive in here.” Right before a rat leaped out of the box, dodged my boots, and ran under the floor. So that was exciting.

We got it done, however, despite the many setbacks. We put things in trash bags, stored away the good lumber, tarped things, and made trash piles.

This was the moment we had been waiting for: taking it down.

We cut and removed the electrical lines running to the barn, and very carefully removed the outer supports. We then used a heavy rope to pull out the interior supports, holding our breaths the whole time hoping for the satisfying crash.

Nothing happened. We got impatient and smashed out the cinder blocks holding the back up. Nada. So it still stands. It's probably going to fall down while we are sleeping, or during the middle of a blizzard, or when we least suspect it.

If you don't here back from me, it means the barn got me.

Avenge me.