I spent the entire weekend sanding, and then sanding, and then sanding some more. And then when I had finished sanding, I cleaned everything using sugar soap. I had forgotten how good this stuff is at cleaning – not only does it clean up plaster dust really well, but it gets rid of grease stains and scuff marks like there’s no tomorrow.
Despite wearing gloves (for the sugar soaping; I’m not that precious about my hands that I wear them for normal DIY stuff), unfortunately my hands now resemble something you could actually use in their own right to finish a wood surface. I’ve been liberally coating them with cocoa butter, but my fingertips are so dry that putting on tights this morning was an interesting experience.
After the sanding, we relaxed with a couple of DVDs, and since it is S’ birthday today (happy birthday hon!) I let him choose. Son of Rambow was great; a funny, nostalgic, sweet coming of age story. But Rambo IV? Big mistake. How many gory deaths can one film have? I think the body count averaged at 25 per second. I’ve never seen any of the Rambo series, so starting off with this one probably wasn’t the best idea, but come on – is it really necessary to have that much blood and guts on screen? I spent most of my time with my scarf over my eyes as I couldn’t bear to watch people being decapitated in a spray of bullets (that magically – unrealistically – Rambo never ran out of).
What really got me though, was not the gruesome, violent deaths, nor the dreadful acting, nor the jingoistic overtones, but that it was ONE HOUR and SIXTEEN MINUTES long. Only just over an hour! So Stallone hauls himself out of action-hero retirement – for only 76 minutes’ worth? Pathetic! If I’d been watching it in a cinema I’d have been one pissed-off Rambo fan.