So I have suddenly become weirdly obsessed with ringtones. Because, you know, it’s 2003? Honestly, I’ve always hated customized cellphone noises because I associate them with people who leave the ringer volume at eleventy-billion and take forever to fish their phone from their oversized purse while the entire coffeeshop/library/silently observant movie theater audience is treated to a tinny electronic version of “Mambo No. 5,” but I had to field a shit-ton of phone calls last week and I decided that I needed something that would grab my attention more than the warbly little Apple default doodle-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo I’ve had for years.

I started with Metallica’s “For Whom the Bell Tolls,” but while that is an exceedingly bitchin song, the ringtone version is a little … stressful. FUCK YEAH ANSWER THE PHOOOOOOOOONE *air guitar* Then I switched to AC/DC’s “Hell’s Bells” and that was cool for a while but you can really only listen to that dire opening bell tower gong so many times before your inherent phone phobia, assuming you have such a thing, triggers an undesirable Pavlovian response that I can really only describe as “My phone makes me have to do a poopie.”

I then switched to the Muppets’ “Mahna Mahna” because, well, cheery, right? Every time my phone rang the kids would burst out laughing! Ha ha ha ha MAHNA MAHNA! (Doot dooooo do do do!) But yeah that song’ll straight up make you want to kill yourself after a while.

Now my ringtone is the Game of Thrones theme, and it’s like the most epic phone noise of all time. Answer it … or impale someone’s head on it? IN THE GAME OF PHONES YOU EITHER WIN OR YOU DIE.

Anyway, I still hate talking on the phone, but now I sort of like it when the phone rings. Because my brain goes, ooh! Is it Sunday? Huh? Huh? Biscuit?

Tell me, what does your phone sound like?

Let’s paint the living room, we said. The color is old and the walls are chipped and scuffed and it’ll be nice to start over with a clean slate! Maybe a neutral color will lighten up the room a bit!

Why is that when I think about painting, I never think of moving furniture, pulling things off walls, filling in nail holes, rolling up rugs, removing things from shelves, and choking on the deadly plumes of dust that apparently coat every lesser-used surface of my house?

Anyway, what do you guys think? Ignore the vagina couch, I’m just counting down the days until I can shove it into the backyard and riddle it with bullet holes.

BEFORE:

living1

AFTER:

living2

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