I am having one of those days where I want to scream and punch kittens and go for a forty-mile run. Grown-up hissy fits are not allowed in our house, so instead I am going to paint our living room. That's right, I decided to do it myself. Turns out we are too poor for even a Polish painter who calls me Lord: so instead of (or perhaps, in addition to, she discreetly added) screaming and punching, I am going to paint.
Plus some people emailed me and said "YOU CAN DO IT" and complimented my strong jawline, so obviously I agreed with them.
Off to the hardware store. Oh, excuse me: le bricolage. (I cannot lie, it is another of my favorite French words). Je suis un bricoleur. (I am a handyman). See how I did that? I just said it, and now I am a handyman. Language is incredible.
Also, I think it's time for a little round of High/Low.
My high for yesterday (because today isn't over yet and I don't want to TALK ABOUT IT) was a moment that began by watching a truly horrible show on television with Arnaud (Carnivale from HBO -- seriously?? The show should be shot. It is HORRIBLE and is now dead to us. We started Band of Brothers instead -- he has never seen it. SO GOOD. Okay, tangent over).
The sun was coming in our windows with such a ferocious glare that Arnaud decided to put down our massive shutters for a bit (all French people are part vampire, how do I know? What is "vampire" in French? That's right: vampire), plus he probably wanted to busy himself and have an excuse to not watch the show for a hot minute.
He turned around on the couch on his knees and leaned over towards the window to try to reach the lever behind the couch to pull down the shutters. As he leaned over I decided, naturally, to startle and hopefully make him scream by poking him in the butthole.
Butthole poking and attempted butthole poking are, for us, normal techniques of annoying each other and I can speak from experience that at the truly "surprise" moment they are unprecedented in their success.
However, at this potentially perfect moment, something happened.
The new rug in our apartment has us absolutely FULL of electricity, so instead of simply poking Arnaud's butthole I shocked the HELL out of it, and my finger, startling us both and causing us both to scream.
We then laughed hysterically, especially because I had instantly broken out into a sweat and was bright red from how much it startled and embarrassed me.
We later high-fived. It was a definite "first" for us.
That was my High.
My low was getting my fingerprints rejected by the FBI (a 6 week process) because they were "unsatisfactory," not "deep" or "clear" enough. Good thing I was being bashful and modest with the full curve and shape of my fingerprint grooves. I was just trying to be hard to get... keep 'em guessing. I guess I'll have to just suck it up and really show them what I've got this time around.
?????????????????????
IDIOTS.
Plus some people emailed me and said "YOU CAN DO IT" and complimented my strong jawline, so obviously I agreed with them.
Off to the hardware store. Oh, excuse me: le bricolage. (I cannot lie, it is another of my favorite French words). Je suis un bricoleur. (I am a handyman). See how I did that? I just said it, and now I am a handyman. Language is incredible.
Also, I think it's time for a little round of High/Low.
My high for yesterday (because today isn't over yet and I don't want to TALK ABOUT IT) was a moment that began by watching a truly horrible show on television with Arnaud (Carnivale from HBO -- seriously?? The show should be shot. It is HORRIBLE and is now dead to us. We started Band of Brothers instead -- he has never seen it. SO GOOD. Okay, tangent over).
The sun was coming in our windows with such a ferocious glare that Arnaud decided to put down our massive shutters for a bit (all French people are part vampire, how do I know? What is "vampire" in French? That's right: vampire), plus he probably wanted to busy himself and have an excuse to not watch the show for a hot minute.
He turned around on the couch on his knees and leaned over towards the window to try to reach the lever behind the couch to pull down the shutters. As he leaned over I decided, naturally, to startle and hopefully make him scream by poking him in the butthole.
Butthole poking and attempted butthole poking are, for us, normal techniques of annoying each other and I can speak from experience that at the truly "surprise" moment they are unprecedented in their success.
However, at this potentially perfect moment, something happened.
The new rug in our apartment has us absolutely FULL of electricity, so instead of simply poking Arnaud's butthole I shocked the HELL out of it, and my finger, startling us both and causing us both to scream.
We then laughed hysterically, especially because I had instantly broken out into a sweat and was bright red from how much it startled and embarrassed me.
We later high-fived. It was a definite "first" for us.
That was my High.
My low was getting my fingerprints rejected by the FBI (a 6 week process) because they were "unsatisfactory," not "deep" or "clear" enough. Good thing I was being bashful and modest with the full curve and shape of my fingerprint grooves. I was just trying to be hard to get... keep 'em guessing. I guess I'll have to just suck it up and really show them what I've got this time around.
?????????????????????
IDIOTS.
totally, TOTALLY a kitten punching day here in 'merica too. I can't wait to crawl into bed and leave it behind! And, you can do it, you can paint that place and make it gorgeous - just use these easy steps. collect paint, collect kittens, open paint, apply paint to kittens, throw kittens at the wall. easy.
Posted by: Ploughyourownfurrow.wordpress.com | April 04, 2013 at 04:13 AM