I thought this was an interesting take on it.
A Step-By-Step Guide
to Building a Tiny Fucking Ship
Inside a Tiny
BY Colin Nissan (AKA, Chris 4x4)
- - - -
Building tiny fucking ships inside tiny fucking bottles has been a traditional maritime art form since the early 1800s, when sailors on lengthy voyages were in need of something to occupy their time at sea, and decided that frustrating the living fuck out of themselves would be that something.
This guide will teach you everything you need to know, from finding the right bottle with a tiny fucking opening, to making a tiny fucking boat, to jamming the tiny fucking boat into the tiny fucking opening.
Before you get started, make sure that you have a clean workspace and that there isnít a single other fucking thing youíd rather do besides this nautical disaster of a hobby.
First, you need to find a bottle. Any wine or liquor bottle will do. Some of you may be wondering if thereís some two-piece trick bottle thatís glued back together once the ship is inside. Thereís only one way into that bottle: the fucking hard way.
Next, youíre going to carve the shipís hull, keel and rudder out of wood, which is actually quite simple if youíre a professional fucking wood carver. If youíre not a professional wood carver, this will be really fucking difficult.
Now itís time to make the masts and booms out of toothpicks, then tie very fine wire around the ends of the toothpicks to act as hinges. This is also very easy, unless you have human hands, then it will be unbelievably fucking exasperating because everything youíre working with is fucking miniscule and dumb.
Remember to periodically hold the ship up against the outside of your bottle throughout the building process so you can keep tabs on how completely fucked youíre going to be.
Now youíre going to need to drill tiny holes through the masts. Quick recap; the masts are made out of toothpicks, so youíll need to drill a fucking hole through a fucking toothpickófucking twice. One helpful tip is to have several thousand extra toothpicks ready in case you donít nail this step right away.
Once youíve woven a line of thread through five drilled pin holes in the hull, whittled a bowsprit and attached two lines to it from the hull to the booms to the tops of the masts and another directly to the shrouds, then made sails out of tiny pieces of cloth and glued them all over the fucking place, itís time to simply fold the boat down on its hinges and push it through the bottle with a pair of long medical tweezers, then glue it into place and pull on the strings to hoist the sails.
Didnít work? Hmm, thatís weird. I wonder what twenty-five fucking things went wrong. Donít get discouraged, just smash the bottle over your own head as a lesson for leading the kind of life where this seemed like a good idea, then start over again.
Still not working? Strange. This time break the bottle in half like in an old western saloon and jab the jagged glass into your midsection a few times, while pondering the sixty additional hours of your life you just pissed away.
Eventually you wonít want to do this anymore and will place whatever the fuck you end up with on the mantle. At which point, itís time to sit back and admire your weird, limp-masted, S.S. Who Gives A Fuck, and relish your kindred bond with the brave seafaring artisans of yore who battled violent seas, crippling dysentery, and tiny fucking toothpicks to pave the way for this Bermuda fucking Triangle of crafts.