Let me tell you this:
There is a special place in hell for people who incorrectly wallpaper wood paneling.
In our future best-selling book, HGTV is NOT a License to DIY (working title), my friend Amanda and I will lay it out plainly for lady remodelers. Remodelistas.
By ladies–For ladies. Part memoir, part confession, and part guidebook for other hopeful remodelistas, we will reveal the ins and outs and ups and downs of the sort of lifestyle that leaves you living without floors, washing your dishes in the bathtub, and occasionally wondering which one of those assholes pooped in the non-functioning toilet–AGAIN. (Ohmygod! somebody get the bucket!)
Together with our beefcake trophy husbands, we’ve been spinning beauty from ruin for a long freakin’ time, so we know what we’re talking about.
The memoir section of our work will include first-person essays on what it means to us, personally, to live in a construction zone. We will highlight the joys of finding screwdrivers in the silverware drawer and a fine layer of drywall dust on every single thing you own. In this section we will also get irritatingly judgy toward people who turn up their noses at buying a particular house because they don’t like the paint color of any given room.
The guidebook will provide useful tips for newbies (Don’t buy the pink tools–everyone will know you’re a complete sucker), and a Q & A section offering a fun spin on contractor basics like “How many screws/nails should you put in a 12″ square section of subfloor?” (Hint: the answer is NOT 42, though this is contrary to what you’ll find in any home built pre-1970.) and “Should I put carpet in my basement?” (Duh, no.)
The confession section of the book can be summed up with acknowledging that our beefcake trophy husbands pray nightly to sweet baby Jesus, the patron saint of mysterious ways, that he will intercede in the dreams of the dearly loved, angelic remodelistas, wooing them deep in their subconscious sleep, to agree finally to move across the county line and build an off-the-grid earthship, complete with composting toilet. Or else to move into a furnished studio apartment halfway around the world, leaving the circular saw, the miter saw, the reciprocating saw, the table saw, the jam saw, the coping saw, the tile saw, the jigsaw, and all the other tools behind in a cloud of construction dust.
If you disagree about the special place in hell for those who have improperly wallpapered wood paneling, which I wouldn’t if I were you, it’s because you’ve clearly never gone through the hell of removing wallpaper from paneling.