Showing posts with label truthful men. Show all posts
Showing posts with label truthful men. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

I stand corrected...



To balance out the previous entry, which seemed a leeeetle self-serving:

  • The kitchen lights don’t work. The switch spits blue sparks if you touch it.
  • The bathroom ceiling has a badly covered hole, about the size of the Eskom contractor who fell through it two years ago.
  • The lounge blind looks like something which has been used to flagellate, er, people who like flagellation.
  • One of the kitchen cupboards keeps falling off, and needs to be replaced.
  • In fact, the entire kitchen could use some new cupboards and counters.
  • I never dust. I’m allergic to the stuff. Neen does, but she can’t move the heavy furniture.
  • Never cleaned under the fridge.
  • Haven’t weeded the paving in a year. In the flowerbed, there is a collection of the flowers sent in sympathy after my Mum died in August last year. Not growing flowers, just flower arrangements I chucked there.
  • I’m too sacred to move James’s and Jonah’s bunk beds. I think things live underneath. Furry things.
  • There are chunks of wall which need patching and replacing.
  • The desk where we keep our computer is falling apart.
  • I never quite get rid of mildew on the ceilings. Have painted some now, but some still have grey patches.
  • We need new furniture in the lounge. I did buy a bright throw for the couch, but it has since shed fine red fibre over the entire house. Also, putting a throw over that couch is like sticking a corpse in a shallow grave.

    I could go on, but Neen reads this, and it could mean I’ll never have a weekend to myself again…