... because life is not only about intellectual or sexual stimulation, yesterday i spent the day painting my brand old appartment with sweet ann. The color chosen was white, the hours from 1pm to 6pm, though the fruitman was seen at 8pm cleaning the floors and at 10pm smoking a cigarrete after having successfully assembled the ikea furniture he had bought a couple of days ago.
Sweet ann provided an invaluable help: in fact, not only did she paint most of the walls, but if it wasn't for her assistance, the fruitman can't tell how the walls would have ended. It turns out that the mechanism of painting is simple... if you know how to dip the cilinder-with-a-stick (el rodillo, vaya, from now on, "painting roller") into the white paint. I didn't. I was one of this innocent mates that think: you buy the can of paint, you get home, you dip the "painting roller" into the can, you smash it onto the wall, you move it up and down.
But the sweet ann came and said: "well, there's this squared can with a flat filter attached to it. you dip the painting roller into the paint, then you make it roll on the flat filter, so the paint is distributed uniformly through the roller, and does not drop, and then, only then, you can proceed to paint the wall".
I wish I could draw it, once you see it, it's so logical. And it works so well. I have to confess that I felt so happy after seeing the whole room all brand new whited. It's an amazing sense of achievement, much greater than assembling ikea furniture. As I was painting, I wanted to be a fucking house painter. I was so fucking good at it: you paint an appartment per weekend, with the music and the beer and stuff, and from monday to friday... party!
After lunch, torjman joined us and provided essential moral support. And well, physical too, of course :)
But it was 9pm, and ann and torjman had left, and I was left alone with a can full of paint and a pair of painting rollers full of paint. What the hell can I do now? I mean, can you just leave the painting rollers full of paint? Will the paint on the can dry? Will the rollers dry, and become unusable? Fuck! I mean those are tricky questions. And I had nobody to ask, and no proper place to wash or throw everything left.
So I though: "fuck, i'm gonna paint the fucking balcony in white, until no paint is left behind!" And so I did. And I felt like the fucking king of great ideas.