Dear textured ceiling that the previous tenants painted pink:
I am coming for you. I have already put one coat of primer on you, just to show that I was serious, and now I am going to put on another, and then you are going to be so f(*@#^@(#ing white that the Aryan Brotherhood would welcome you with open arms.
And you, door that is also pink. Don't think I've forgotten about you. Oh no. You are next.
The walls, you say? I laugh. The walls have already learned to fear me, despite initially being a deep shade of magenta. The third coat of primer - yes, you gasp, but I say again, the third coat of primer - is going on them just as soon as I get the paint out of my eyelashes.
And then tomorrow, I am going to paint them green. That's right, motherf*&^@#(ers. GREEN. LIKE THE GARDEN YOUR WINDOW LOOKS OUT UPON.
So, textured ceiling. The question is: are you feeling lucky?
Context, though that's the entire post.