DIY Disasters: Fuck These Kitchens


DIY is a fantastic thing. Do-it-yourself home renovation is all about planning your dream home, nailing the execution, and having pride in a gorgeous living space that you designed and built yourself. Nothing feels better than cooking up a hearty meal in your perfect kitchen, and knowing that you’ve picked up valuable skills along the way.

But the piece-of-shit kitchens we’re about to show you should never have been allowed to happen. The existence of these kitchens makes our days darker, and our nights cold and miserable. These DIY disasters are the reason God doesn’t talk to us anymore.


The first and most important element of DIY renovation is a floorplan. The capable DIY-er meticulously plots the layout of their future kitchen, to make sure any mistakes are caught and corrected before the building stage. In this case, the floorplan of this kitchen was likely designed by a committee of screaming lunatics. There was planning and forethought here, obviously, but the plan was to commit a crime against humanity, and the result was this prison camp of a kitchen. What vicious dictator created this kitchen, and why was he not stopped?

Holy shit, what a God damned mess. The only food fit to be prepared in this kitchen is none of them. The chest-thumping troglodyte that conceived of this abomination should be hunted down and thrown in double jail.

There are good kitchens, there are bad kitchens, and then there is this violent attack on the very idea of kitchens. The feckless sub-human that birthed this nightmare from their deviant mind should be jettisoned into the sun. This kitchen is a dark reminder that there is no true justice, and we will all one day die without dignity.


This kitchen is, at best, a thought crime. If I ever find the name of the filth artist that ushered this abomination into the world, I will go to where they live and hit them in the mouth.


This nightmare of a cooking space seems designed to shock and horrify. If there were a new circle of hell that snared and tortured the very spirit of good architecture, it would be indistinguishable from this abominable kitchen. Get this out of my sight.


This kitchen has all the flash and appeal of toilet water. If you enjoy drinking from the toilet, by all means, enjoy your time in this kitchen, you joyless felon.


You know what, kitchen? Fuck you. Fuck you, kitchen.

This monstrosity of a kitchen offends my eyes, and brings the taste of bile surging into my mouth. This kitchen is a fuck word made manifest, and if I knew where it dwells, I would buy a gallon of gasoline and burn it to the ground.


…I guess this kitchen’s all right.

I feel that the very act of viewing this kitchen has made me vulnerable to the influence of extra-dimensional monsters.  Even now, the image of this God-awful kitchen is summoning space demons to violate my mind.  I can feel taloned hands pawing at the edges of my vision, bleeding their way into this plane of being.  All of this could have been avoided.

Copyright (C), Multiple Listing Service of Long Island, Inc, 2004



I have to re-address how much I hate this God damned kitchen.  I awake nightly from horrible visions of this disastrous kitchen, covered from head to toe in a film of cold sweat.  My sheets are stained with the liquid terrors of my nighttime ordeal, so much so that I must replace them on a weekly basis.  This kitchen can fuck right off.


12 Pictures of the Shittiest Falcons


I feel that I’m being unjustly targeted by a swath of asshole falcons. I’ve never done anything to these falcons, and yet, they pursue me. They hang around my house, follow me down the street, and disrupt meetings with my employers. These foul birds bring darkness and misery to my every living day. I’ve encountered many shitty falcons in my life, and here, I will list twelve of the shittiest.


While on one of my daily walks through the local park, I purchased a strawberry ice cream from a gregarious sweets vendor.  Moments later, when I stopped to pull up my sock garters, this devious bird swooped down and stole my ice cream cone, poisoning my entire day. How dare you.


This falcon hangs around my back porch and hoots at my sister. I’m no expert, but falcons shouldn’t hoot, much less at my teenage sibling. I don’t trust his intentions.


Last Tuesday, a falcon flew in through my office window and attempted to couple with my cute cat poster. Sometimes, the only thing that gets me through the day is my happy poster of the adorable cat trying to hang from a tree limb. The last thing I need is falcon sperm all over my cute cat poster. Why do you hate me so, falcons?


This falcon broke into my house while I was on vacation, wore my clothes, and attempted to seduce my wife. Thankfully, I returned from Arkansas in time to uncover his clever deception. Our relationship has since descended into mistrust and resentment. I assure my wife daily that I am not a falcon in disguise, but I can see the doubt in her eyes.


I came home from spin class one afternoon to find this falcon rifling through my manga collection. How rude. All you had to do was ask, falcon.


Falcons circle over me like a dark cloud of doom. I recently went to a job interview, and because there were so many falcons flying over me, I arrived at my interview with my suit encrusted in bird excrement. My prospective employer seemed impressed, and asked if I was some sort of beastmaster. Sensing his admiration of falcons, I left without a word.


This falcon masqueraded as a helper animal. I invited him into my home, thinking he would assist me with daily tasks. Once he gained access to my most sacred of spaces, he stole my last Kit-Kat, and flew out the window. I am convinced that all falcons are duplicitous.


Wherever I go, I am still subjected to the chicanery of these shitty falcons. On a recent trip to Jamaica, a falcon landed on my beach umbrella and whispered to me the date and very moment of my death. Before I could ask how I could circumvent this horrible fate, the falcon took to the sky and was gone. Thanks a lot, falcons.


At first, I thought this was a hawk, but it turns out it’s just another one of those God damned falcons.


Falcons harass me even at the grocery store. I asked an employee of the store to direct me to the dairy aisle, and she replied with an unintelligible series of squawks and screams. I wasted two hours attempting to follow her instructions before I realized she was most likely a falcon in disguise. I now understand how my wife was so easily deceived by these shitty falcons.

Peregrine Falcon CAPTIVE

This falcon flew overhead when I was heading to work, and shit in my hair. Falcon shit is thick, and sets in like plaster. I spent three hours trying to wash this falcon’s shit out of my hair, and when I arrived to work late, my manager chided me for my tardiness. I tried to explain that a falcon had shit in my hair, but he called me a liar, and told me to stop making up animals. Falcons are mysterious, and operate in the shadows.


I recently attempted to log into my Facebook account, and found that the password had been changed. I spent three hours speaking to a representative of the company, and when I was finally able to log in, I found all of my profile pictures had been changed to pictures of falcons. They have it out for me, and I don’t know why. Falcons, please leave me alone.