Someone Call D.I.Y. To The Rescue
Jesus Christ in a chicken basket, I’m in trouble. So remember how I said I was moving to a new apartment this week? Yes, of course you do. Well, the moving went fine. In fact, the moving went so well, I got a little cocky and decided to paint my apartment right away. I went to the Home Depot, got a bunch of supplies, and got started. The place is pretty old, so I had to do a lot of scraping and sanding, but that’s not a problem for me because I’m all man. You hear me? One hundred percent beefcake!
Anyhow, things were going pretty well until I got to one of the walls. I noticed a seam in it where the paint was peeling back, so I poked my finger in the seam. The wall gave ever so slightly. I started chipping away at it and realized there was peeling wallpaper underneath the paint. I hate when people paint over wallpaper. I lived in a house where that had happened and it takes forever to get all the paint, wallpaper, and glue off the wall, which you have to do before you paint or everything will just chip right off.
I was pretty mad that I was going to have to do all this work before I could even begin painting, but the fun was just beginning. I soon discovered that not only had the previous tenants painted over the wallpaper, he had plastered over it too. Imagine my surprise when I scraped a piece of wallpaper off only to have a large chunk of the wall come with it! Oh, I was surprised all right. Surprised and furious! I was cursing the previous tenants out loud. “Who the fuck puts plaster over wallpaper?! Sweet mother of Christ, how am I going to fix this?!”
I managed to patch up some of the holes, but let’s just say I’m going to have to hang pictures in front of them. Because you can very easily tell that there was once a hole in the wall. Maybe I shouldn’t have tried to patch the hole with old newspapers and Big League Chew, but it’s too late now. I am not very handy. But I’m still all man. You hear me? Hundred percent.
