Like a phoenix rising from the sheetrock dust TO WIN LOTS OF MONEY!!!!!

Just like how a phoenix rises from the ashes or when the post-op transexual from Nip/Tuck became an X-men phoenix in the second X-men movie and rose from the flood waters, good things can come from a tragedy.  Or ashes.  Or a flood.  

I'm really terrible at metaphors.

What I'm trying to say is that Curbed is having a contest for the worst stories from first time homeowners.  And the worst story is really the best and wins lots of money.  When I heard about this contest I told them they might as well just give it to me and save everyone else the time because the ModSauce Ranch is the best at being the worst.

Here's a snippet from my story:

For the first major project, my experienced reno friends used a garden hose to spray all of the ceilings to remove the ancient popcorn texture. It rained 50 yrs of cigarette smoke and filthy ceiling curds on our heads like an Amazonian jungle storm of nasty. I have good friends. Well, they used to be my friends...

Apparently the filth was holding the house together because after we removed the popcorn, the plaster ceiling began collapsing in my bedroom. I held it up with a wing and a prayer and a stack of Southern Living magazines on top of a ladder until I could afford to pay someone brave enough to let concrete fall on their heads. I lived in the guest bedroom during the master bedroom renovation - aka Operation Ceiling Death Eagle.

I couldn't even use the living room because it was haunted and the streaks of yellowed nicotine down the walls seemed like the ghost was murdering people in the attic at night. It was not pretty. I lived like a hermit in one room of my own house. At some point the renovation and disrepair of both bedrooms proved to be too much and I had to brave the living room ghost and sleep on my couch for six weeks. During that time, and the following 7 months, I stripped and refinished all the original '60s wood paneling in my living room/bedroom with dental tools. Now every time I see my hygienist I break into hives and cry. Those first two years were dark times, dark times...

There's plenty more because that shit was bad, y'all!

So even though I get twitchy when I have to ask for anything, I'd certainly send you all gliternaise-topped kisses if you went and VOTED FOR ME.  Or it could be dry humps.  Your choice.  You have all the power here.

As extra incentive for you, if I win that means I could start working on my bathroom remodel faster and I KNOW you want to read all about that train wreck.  Really, if I win it's for you you so go vote for yourself.

Voting ends Monday at noon - yes April 2! - so please hurry and get your happy asses over there and make sure everyone at Curbed knows I'm the worst.

Also, I'll totally get a phoenix tattooed on my left ass cheek if I win.  

For you.

Please VOTE!  Too late.

Update: We're #1!!!  As in your favorite Madame got 1% of the vote and therefore didn't win.  I was so close and only lacking a few thousand votes.  Frankly, I still think that's pretty awesome because I only personally know about 12 people that voted for me and that's like 2 dozen strangers that made the effort.  Thank you, strangers.  You're the wind beneath my wings.  MY PHOENIX WINGS!!!  


Seriously, you guys are awesome but it looks like I'm going to have to resort to a life of crime to pay for my bathroom remodel.