.. yes apparently for those with X & Y chromosones, brown comes in more than one colour. Unsuprisingly this wrongness is all my fault even when my entire contribution to the purchasing decision was to supportively say “Yes, that one looks fine” while mildly distracted by attempting to stop the kids having lawnmower races.
Distressed Oak reads the marketing blurb. The only thing that’s distressed in this whole bloody painting pantomine is yours truly. Still after scoring a marital point (everyone does this, don’t try and deny it, okay not everyone keeps a spreadsheet to see who’s winning but…) by calmly pointing out who had made the colour choice and who had heroically covered the square meterage of Denmark until the small hours of this morning. This, you may be unsuprised to hear, is the same poor bastard who has the unenviable job of somehow removing what’s essentially my life’s work. On the upside, I have already decreed that this is job for the killer sander, a violent mutant fushion of the murderous strimmer and an angle grinder. It reduces mature trees to sawdust in all the time it takes to say “Clear? Plug it in then and TAKE COVER”
I hate the colour too. Otherwise I wouldn’t be doing it. I mean that’s not how our relationship works. We decide something, I generally do it wrong, we have a sprited argument and then either one of us backs down and gracefully accepts the others point of view or I sulk. It’s not like I don’t have a choice in these things. Just so we’re clear 😉
Honestly I hate the colour. Distressed oak my arse, more like runny poo with a hint of chocolate. That’s£20 I’ll not be seeing again.
Makes you wonder how many meetings it took those marketing muppets to come up with a colour called ‘Distressed Oak’. What were the other choices: ‘Oak with a hint of fresh squirrel wee’ or ‘Oak suffering a mild spot of PMT’, the mind boggles.
How exactly do they distress an oak? Approach it in a lumberjack shirt?
Fellas. I know not. It was next to “horribly twee” and “noisette of plop”.
I believe the correct male response to “It’s the wrong colour” is fact:
“Ah well”
Normally I’d agree but since it’ll be staring me in the chops day in day out, I’m just not sure I can live with the “stoned monkey throwing sloppy turd at door” painting that best describes the current situation.
I’ve decided to go with the apathy option. Sand the buggers down and leave them to “weather” in a rustic manner.
Or the Mr Bean option “semtex in a pot of magnolia and shut the door behind you”
Option 3: Wander into the barn and accost long suffering builder
“Hey Lee, how much to paint the whole barn including removing the horror that was my first effort”
A fee was mentioned that when compared to retreiving a couple of weekends and not inhaling thinner for hours on end seemed very reasonable.
“Right o, I’ll leave it with you then”.
I’m not lazy, I’m just fiercely practical when it comes to stuff I’m rubbish at. Which is quite alot. But I did paint the outside so my concience is clear 🙂
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