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novembersmithSo, although my landlord has had all summer to paint and fix up the apartment, he's decided to choose precisely the week I've moved to start his little renovations. (And his name is Jim Crow, which really, is a little strange. I'd have changed it to something that doesn't reflect past racial inequities, but whatever. Maybe it's just me.) There are about eight men currently plying the house with white paint.
I woke up the other morning, rolled out of bed in my underwear, looked up, and an enormous man was hovering in my window, leering and wielding a paintbrush.
Not amused.
Not amused at all.
Since this man has, you know, seen me naked, I felt I had the right to listen in on their overly loud and exuberant conversations. Overheard this scintillating gem and am contemplating...I don't know. Suicide?
PAINTER #1: Yeah, and her man, he ain't got nothing but you know, a garter snake or sumfin' going on, and lil' Charise don't want none of that.
PAINTER #2 *grunt*
PAINTER #1: She want her some of what I got going on. She wants her some python.
ME, hidden by the curtains: Nghhh!
PAINTER #2: *edges his ladder away*
I can't possibly convey the inflections inherent in the word "python." Best left to the imagination. Yep. This is an almost perfect approximation of the conversation. Not lying, and I wish I were. The Python is painting my house and has seen me naked.
If I sell my soul to Satan, will he paint the house and make them go away?
In other news, Jack keeps trying to have sex with Will, but he can't yet. He just can't.
I woke up the other morning, rolled out of bed in my underwear, looked up, and an enormous man was hovering in my window, leering and wielding a paintbrush.
Not amused.
Not amused at all.
Since this man has, you know, seen me naked, I felt I had the right to listen in on their overly loud and exuberant conversations. Overheard this scintillating gem and am contemplating...I don't know. Suicide?
PAINTER #1: Yeah, and her man, he ain't got nothing but you know, a garter snake or sumfin' going on, and lil' Charise don't want none of that.
PAINTER #2 *grunt*
PAINTER #1: She want her some of what I got going on. She wants her some python.
ME, hidden by the curtains: Nghhh!
PAINTER #2: *edges his ladder away*
I can't possibly convey the inflections inherent in the word "python." Best left to the imagination. Yep. This is an almost perfect approximation of the conversation. Not lying, and I wish I were. The Python is painting my house and has seen me naked.
If I sell my soul to Satan, will he paint the house and make them go away?
In other news, Jack keeps trying to have sex with Will, but he can't yet. He just can't.
