I have always enjoyed The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas, but that does not mean I will be decorating my house with spurs and lube.
Time for someone to grow up and accept real life for what it is.
One Trekkie's dream of boldly going where no interior designer has gone before appears to be over – thanks to his estranged wife, who has decided his starship Voyager-themed flat isn't entirely suitable for the terrestrial housing market. Former DJ Tony Alleyne, 58, has spent 10 years and a wad of cash coverting the one-bed …
"Why should we 'grow up' out of video games, Star Trek and posting turds through objectionable neighbour's letter boxes?!"
Erm, because it will send you bankrupt, your wife will leave you leave and you'll be left destitute and in tears. Man, you really weren't paying attention, were you!
No: Still enjoying what life has to offer, rather than becoming an embittered drone.
It's ok, though: I can totally understand why those who feel pressured into 'growing up', breeding, participating in a 2 hour commute and suchlike like to try to look down on those with a little bit of élan and imagination left in them.
After all, the man has put his heart and soul and ten *years* of hard work into it. So on top of bankruptcy, losing his home and a failed business, why not completely destroy the one thing he had to keep him going? I'm sure he'll be very appreciative of your sentiments. Jackass.
I've said it before, and I'll say it as many times as it takes for idiots to understand it: fun things do not stop being fun because you get older, and the definition of "fun" is personal. Anyone who subscribes to the notion that they may no longer do something because they have passed some magical imaginary number boundary has voluntarily made themselves more boring.
Let the nerd have his fun. That goes for his wife, too. Hell, in the current housing market, something unique like that would probably make selling easier!
Cue an internet whip-round to buy out his wife's half of the property.
between 'let the nerd have his fun' and an albatross of a flat that costs a bomb in increasingly expensive electrical power and won't sell in a million years because, meticulous reproduction of a fictional universe that it is, normal people won't want to live there. Too, his wife having paid eighteen years' worth of the mortgage, I tend to suspect her ownership interest in the property amounts to a fair bit more than half -- too bad for him, if he'd paid the mortgage off before he started remodeling, he wouldn't be having this problem now.
"his hobby is no harm to anyone else"
Except his to-be-ex-wife, y'know, the owner of the property? It won't sell any time soon at its correct price. You're right, he's perfectly entitled to a hobby/obsession and good luck to him, but spunking close to (what's now) £100K on permanent fixtures/fittings to a property that's not in your name isn't the brightest idea, and from what I can tell they'd separated when he kicked off his project, so knew this must be on the cards at some point.
Why should he grow up? Plenty of people like playing at being kids when they're adults. From extreme end of the scale infantilists to more conventionally accepted nerds playing with computers and video games. What's mending cars other than a full size Mecanno kit?
Leave him alone!
I just don't see what is so great about being like everyone else.
(Admitadly, I go to some trouble not to let my hobbies bankrupt me or financially disadvantage others, which isn't the case here, but that is more about getting a brain than getting a life.)
Just throw a few twigs in a vase, throw some candles on the console, maybe a rug in front of the captains chair. Sorted. The little I have learnt about interior design from the wife are:
Twigs in a vase = Good
Empty vase on shelf = Good
Candles = Good (Candles should never be lit)
Cushions same colour as Candle = Very Good
Rug = Perfection
All different shapes and sizes. All must be arranged in a certain order every morning, all must be carefully stored every evening. The one with the blue stripes on a green background goes over *here*, and the one with the green stripes on the blue background goes over *there*.
Her: "Don't forget that dusky muave, dusty rose, and a pale purplish pink are entirely different colours and belong in entirely different locations."
Me: "What? They're all the *same*."
Her: "Go sleep on the muave couch."
Me: "WHICH ONE'S THAT?"
crazywoman. (n). Usually pronounced [woom-uhn]. Sometimes the crazy is silent, but it is always there.
IGMC -- I'll need it for whatever the hell couch she's pointing at. I think it's some god-awful shade of pink.
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