Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Day 12, Wednesday- Aerosol Texture and Hindsight

After a good, solid evening of work, I was sitting in the big chair, with my feet up, with the laptop in, well, my lap. I had a bit of a problem, as I agreed to update this blog thing everyday. I just wasn’t prepared for days like this one, so I turned to my wife for help.

“I’m not sure what to put on the blog tonight.”

“You post the truth,” came the smirking, snide reply.

“Yeah, I’ll write about figuring out how to fix the wall in the dining room.”

“No.” She turned and stared me in the eye, “you put the other thing up.” The tone of her voice left two options- do as she says, or live celibate.

So, let me tell you a story, ripe with hindsight, about how a really stupid thing can really mess up your evening. Ready? Great, here goes:

I started the evening sanding down some rough spots in the living room. The smaller areas were ready for paint, so I decided to grab the can of spray texture and tried to touch up the repaired areas.

However, the can didn’t work. Just a little drizzle came out. So I shook the can. Nothing seemed to help. This was a new can of texture, so I figured that it was just too cold allow for adequate expansion of the propellant. I filled the sink with warm water and dropped the can in for a nice soak.

I went back and started working on the damaged walls in the dining room. Naturally, I forgot about the texture. When I finally remembered, the water was less than tepid and the can was colder than when I started. This was no good.

The funny thing, using the gift of hindsight, is that I can string together phrases like “too cold allow for adequate expansion of the propellant” but I seem to lack something called common sense.

I realized that I was probably going to flake out again, so I needed a different method to warm up the texture. I looked around and saw my answer- the oven.

Yes, the oven. I know what you’re thinking, and I’m thinking it too. Let’s skip over the whole “that was a bad idea” thing. I know it was a bad idea. That’s what hindsight is.

So I set the oven to the lowest temperature (150) and placed the can (not to be stored at temperatures over 120) inside, being careful to leave the door half-open and the can towards the front. I really should have read the warning label before the events that transpired, rather than after. Again, I understand as I am blessed with incredible hindsight.

So I went back to work in the dining room and after a few minutes, I went back to the kitchen and opened the oven door all the way…

No, the can did not explode. Nothing quite so dramatic. However, the principals behind a BLEVE (boiling liquid expanding vapor explosion) do apply. It turns out that the now warm propellant was under tremendous pressure. Good thing the can was made well.

I wrapped a towel around the can (it wasn’t super hot, but it was a bit warmer that I really wanted to hold on to) and headed to the living room. I picked the yellow straw and inserted it into the nozzle.

Thus, with that small action, all hell broke loose.

I must have pushed down on the nozzle, because it shot off and texture spewed forth in a fountain of spackle and fumes, much like a bug bomb. I took a full shot in the face, and proceeded to completely freak out.

I flipped the towel over the top of the texture geyser and ran for cool water. Thinking quickly, I headed for the toilet, tripping over my aging radio on the way (should have put it away).

One of my wife’s pet peeves is my “liberal flushing policies.” Before today, I thought she was just busting my chops. Today, I found out how completely foul two-day-old urine is. Do you want to know what is worse than two-day-old urine?

Warm two-day-old urine. That’s what I got when I dropped the can in the toilet. As I was retching, I reached over and flushed the toilet. Of course, the can pretty much blocked the toilet. The water was racing towards the brim and eventual overflow. Do you want to know what is worse than warm two-day-old urine?

Reaching into it. Like, up to your elbow. I grabbed the can, pulled it out, and spilled warm two-day-old urine all over the floor. Good to see that reaching into the primordial ooze was such an outstanding preventative measure.

I cleaned everything up, and looked at the can. The can seemed fine, so I decided to try it again. I found the nozzle (in the entry) and checked it for damage. That’s when I noticed something.

The nozzle was plugged.

Yes, plugged. A few minutes with a pushpin, and the obstruction was cleared. The (mostly empty) texture now worked fine. I textured the spots on the wall and met my bride on the front porch, ready to leave.

Well, there’s always tomorrow.

Total costs: $1,028

4 Comments:

At 11:06 PM, Blogger Undercover Mother said...

See? You can't manipulate CANS and you think you're a better driver?

Kiss my smilin' white ass, my newly celibate friend.

 
At 11:27 PM, Blogger Miss Sassy said...

In the oven.

An aerosol can.

And I let you give me shit about how to correctly sweep a floor???

Its the dawn of a new era.
I knew you were special, defended you even, but dayum man, thats a whole nuther level of stupid now ain't it?

Cheers with the Cherry Wheat, better luck with it tomorrow!

 
At 12:23 AM, Blogger Tom said...

OK people.

First: The oven was not that hot. People see oven and they think "350." But with the door open, it was like 110.

Second: Newly celibate? Hah.

Third: I gave you shit for trying to slack off. I like to think that my over-developed work ethic rubbed off on you a bit and will serve you well.

 
At 3:36 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hey Tom, could you possibly intall a live web cam at the new house so that we could all enjoy your chaotic day just a smidge more?

 

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