Trust in the power of the internet

Yesterday we had the painters in (haw, haw). Well, one painter, but it kinda ruins the joke. Anyway, I think he used the stinkiest paint in the universe in our bedroom. I’ve tried candles (but not being a candle person I could only scrounge a couple of tealights from the back of the cupboard which probably doesn’t cut it), and onions, and lighting matches (hey, it works for stinky poo).

So now the room smells like paint, matches and vaguely of onions. Any suggestions for getting the smell out so we can sleep in there tonight? Last night we slept in the living room – we should have built a fort! – which was fun, but not really a permanent solution.

22 responses to “Trust in the power of the internet

  1. Well, you could always start smoking!

    Either that or a bowl of vinegar in the room with the door shut and a window open for about half an hour should do the trick. That or White Linen by Estee Lauder.

    • Nah, I quit smoking years ago. The vinegar is a good idea, but I think I only have wanky wine vinegars, not the good old white stuff.

      But why door shut and window open? Shouldn’t both be shut?

      • I’m almost ashamed to admit this, but I’ve put a small bowl of champagne vinegar in the room. Yes, I am a ponce. (A good friend used to work for a French food importer, so we got it cheap.)

  2. Hahaha, poncey-poncey pants!

    Could be reused afterwards for a unusually infused vinegarette…

  3. Maybe some bicarb soda? Get’s gross smells out of an old fridge.

    • The vinegar seems to have worked, but there’s still a faint whiff of paint. Reckon if I drink a few ciders tonight I’ll be able to get past it to fall asleep – and have weird fume-infused dreams…

  4. possibly 🙂

    (i only have cheap supermarket balsamic which has a faint odour of metho about it)

  5. hard hitting commentary today then ladies!

  6. You! nothing wrong with being called a lady or even better lady pants (awesome name by the way, but then again I snigger at the word pants a lot…and whenever someone says moist!)

    • I’m still laughing about our photographer asking if anyone had seen his little stool. Months ago. Today he said he’d just spurted hot oil in his crotch. Filthy, filthy filth.

    • The origin of the name came from a nautical dress up party- I went as a sailor complete with really hideous high waisted red crepe pleated pants held up extra high with braces- and thus Lady Harriette of the Impossibly High Pant was born…

  7. I have no idea what to do about the paint smell but I’m seriously considering building a fort and sleeping in it tonight.

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