Hot, steamy stripping action

I don't think this wallpaper-stripping addiction is just me, you know. I just got the old steam wallpaper stripper out of the shed, so I'm on standby for a good peeling sesh whenever there's a window in my busy timetable (no, really - even though I'm between jobs for a short period, there's actually lots of stuff I've needed to do in the last few days).

My mind still on the compulsive nature of wallpaper-peeling, I looked at the illustration on the box with fresh eyes. In my innocence, I'd previously imagined that that fixed grin on the woman's face was just the feigned joy of somebody being paid to be photographed looking delighted with the product in the box. But now I see it all - she's another addict. If the resolution in the photograph was higher and she was looking into the camera (impossible, of course - where else would any dedicated wallpaper stripper want to look but at the wall?), you'd see the signs. The far-away look in the eyes, pupils dilated like gun barrels, knuckles white from gripping the scraper; the classic symptoms of the peeling trance.

Did you know, by the way, that there's a Wallpaper History Society in London? Did you care? I thought not. I think I'll go and have a bit of a lie down now....