I guess I should go look up ole’ Baldie.

When I posted about how Braden ventured to improve the (obviously) drab paintjob in our new rental home yesterday, I got a RESOUNDING response in comments:

“BUY THE FRIGGIN’ MR. CLEAN MAGIC ERASER.  REALLY.  BUY IT OR WE’LL RAPE YOU WITH A BROOM HANDLE, YOU IDIOT!”

Okay, so I added that last thingie.  But just mostly because I’m kind of tired and out of it.  Ok, okay.  It’s because I’m deranged and psychotic.

A couple of you asked me if it came off the wall okay, and I laughed, because I took the time to photograph it, but I haven’t even considered cleaning it.  If you could see how much of our crap is sitting in heaps and piles all over the place, you’d understand that it’s soooo not on the top of my list of things I even give half a flying turd about.

Oh, that and the fact that I’m a pretty crappy cleaningthingstypeperson. 

In fact, I’m much better at things like playing in the yard…

…and relaxing in the bath tub.

These talents take much practice to perfect.  I hone my skills carefully and I refuse to let the perfection I have so carefully developed dull from lack of repetition.

Just sayin.

So, back to the marks on the wall thing.

I do have to mention that Mr. Lady told me to spray hair spray on it and wipe it off.  This did a couple of things for me: reminded me of how practically anything she says makes me laugh (even if she means it) and reminded me that I have no idea where half of my stuff is anymore. 

What box is the hairspray in?  Who the hell knows, people!  It’s probably in the pile of boxes in the garage that are mingling with pieces of upside-down furniture, randomly draped curtains and scattered clothes-hangers.  For all I know, it is procreating with the garden hose.  God help us.

Speaking of, I better find the box with the clean underwear in it or wash the ones I’m currently wearing one of these days.

And NO.  There’s no such thing as TMI at Sarcastic Mom’s Place.

Once I get my unmentionables washed and weave my way through the garage to the car, I’ll look up ole’ Baldie and give him a go, reporting back to all of you on how it went.

And I’ll even buy the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser and see if it takes the marks off the wall.