Some daft cunt in 7 A.D. or whenever the Victorian era was, decided to invent carpets that didn't extend all the way to the wall of a room. Some other daft cunt decided that the appropriate way to decorate a room was to install these shitty carpets in the centre of the room, and then for the remaining foot or so all around edges of the room, just casually paint it with bitumen...the tar-like shite they make roads with...and let it sink in all nice 'n deep into the wood. Now I'm trying to make these floors look like normal peoples' floors. This sexy sexy stuff eats through sanding sheets like Lee Tomlin eats through Greggs sausage rolls. Turns out I'm having to spend about 6 hours scrubbing it off with a wire brush & stuff so strong it burns your eyes, nose and mouth from the fumes, lest I spend £100 or so on sanding sheets. Why couldn't Victorians just wait a bit for that clever-clogs to invent a carpet that covered the entire room and negated the need for bellends to paint floors.