Things what I writ

I sometimes write nonsense about things to try and sound clever

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primer schmimer

that looks awful. I mean, no, that’s terrible. you thought just washing it down and sanding off the bits of greasy finger detrius would be enough didn’t you, but now look at your first coat of one-coat brilliant white gloss. it’s not brilliant. or white. ok, it’s kind of glossy, but only in the way that dogs sometimes are. you should have put an undercoat on with that primer you found in the cellar, but no, you couldn’t be arsed, I mean, you only just spend 8000 quid on this bathroom and now you made a perfectly good stripped pine door look like a wall of old lady’s grey skin, wrinkled and pitted with random inexplicable indents and blemishes and bumps. look, you even managed to create a contour map of wales on that top corner. drips! you idiot.

still, 2 more coats later and you can now barely look upon the dazzling sheer white surface, perfect as an unopened melamine chopping board in waitrose and almost mirror-like in its shiny reflective glory. but I’m not doing the other side. or the 8 other doors. my arm hurts. and anyway, I chucked the brush in the bin because I couldn’t be bothered to clean it. everyone does that, don’t they? you don’t? oh, I expect your garden is perfect too. you’ve got a shed right? there’s no dust in it is there? thought so. grrr.

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