I'm an English Painter

We're renting a house in a wonderful quiet neighborhood where everyone is friendly, the lawns are all edged, flower beds are routinely weeded, children ride their bikes to the park and garages are organized for at least one car to be parked INSIDE. We're going to have to clean out our garage. We just moved in two weeks ago and now I've gone to Home Depot and purchased paint. Buying paint makes you an official resident of a home in my opinion. It's pretty dang grown up. The entire interior of our house is an inspiring Yawn White. Sterile enough of a color for an OB's office.

I haven't hung one single picture and right now it looks as though a group of college guys chipped in and went in on a house. Now I have decided to do the painstaking task of painting our bachelor pad. I'll be making it more inviting, complimentary of our furniture and an anti-keg party magnet.

So, last night I pulled out the plastic to guard the carpet, the rollers, the paint roller fuzzy things-a-majiggers, angle brush, step stool, the actual paint and a Mojito. I don't mess around. I laid out the plastic, pulled out the couches, turned on all the lights and slapped that first bit on the living room's blaring white wall. Ahhhh. MUCH better already! There's nothing like the sloppy wet sound of paint sloshing up and down something you dislike to make it something you'll enjoy. I was energized. Imagining my mirror here, wall hangings there and all the new things I'd eventually add. I didn't mind that my arm was hurting because I was doing a good thing and good things don't go...what's the phrase again?

PLOP! A four inch puddle of "Warm Caramel" spilled out of the paint pan onto the carpet because I got cocky and didn't tape the plastic to the stinking wall! My eyes widened in horror and I felt a curse word coming. "Oh! SHITE! Shite! Shite! Shite!" Apparently I'm a Brit when I'm angry and painting. I quickly shut my mouth, made a mental note that I'm a complete dork and cleaned up the mess amazingly well considering the amount of paint. About ten minutes later and 3/4 of the living room done, "Blood 'ELL!" slipped out after I dropped the brush into the pan. "Oh! BUGGER!" was exclaimed after paint got on a door frame. Now I was grinning.

I like cussing like an Englishman! It's freeing but NOT quite so naughty. If my kids woke up and came out they'd have no clue what I was saying and therefore no need to back peddle! You should really try it! It's bloody brilliant! You may sound like a complete WANKER but that thought is pure bollix. If your mates make fun just tell them to SOD OFF! Well, don't do that....that's actually really rude and you may get hit.

I still have a long way to go with my painting but now that I've found a way to entertain myself AND relieve the stress of inevitable mishaps I'm ready to go!

Cheerio, mates! I'm off to paint my flat!