Busy Weekend
I have had a hell of a busy weekend, so no Sunday night rambling for me. I’m going to get straight to the point. Remember when my daughter smeared shit all over the walls in my house? Well, we’re giving her a chance to do it in a different room. We’re moving her into my six year old’s room, and my six year old will then move into my daughter’s room which he will share with his three year old brother. They may very well never go to sleep again. And although my daughter is twelve, and one would think unlikely to begin smearing shit on things again, parenthood has taught me its core axiom: If it’s going to fuck you up and make your life miserable, kids will do it. But what the fuck, we hadn’t huffed paint fumes in a few years, so we went ahead and started the move.
The first weekend of the reshuffling was devoted to cleaning out the bedrooms and repainting my son’s room from two tone brown with an adorable lamby-wamby motif (my wife’s decision when she was delusional and with-child) to an aquamarine color that blends with my daughter’s bedding. This, as my wife explained to me, is called color coordination, a concept that I am apparently supposed to apply to the clothing that I put on in the morning. Clearly she’s still delusional.
Next weekend we are to paint my daughter’s old room, currently a shade of pink known as Violent Motherfucking Pink, and somehow convert it to colors more suitable to little boys. Frankly, I think that room will always be pink. There is no going back once you paint it the way we did some nine years ago. If we removed the dry wall, threw it into the back yard, tossed it in a dumpster, poured seventy gallons of jet fuel on it and lit it on fire, the fucking ashes would be distinctly pink. But, assuming I am wrong, we’re going to paint it “baseball” colors: Brick Red, Blue Sky, Outfield Wall Green, and we’re not sure about the last color which probably doesn’t matter: They’re just going to use the walls as a convenient place to punch holes and write crude child-like obscenities.
So instead of some inane blather about how many drugs I took in college (lots!), here’s something that will make you feel as if you’ve taken all those drugs at once: Silly shit from Japan! Enjoy.
I made some signs for my yard sale in red ink and my cat lay on them and she is still pink.
You should just paint over the walls in red and black. That’ll hide the pink. And look Satanic.
Now that you’ve nicely painted her walls she isn’t going to smear feces on them. She’s 12. She’s going to smear lipstick and makeup she isn’t allowed to wear, boys names that she loves loves loves, and maybe plaster with fashion photos and dumb boys with the dumb names of Edward and Orlando. She also might make out with the wall a little bit.
When I was 16 my dad let me express myself in my attic bedroom. I painted everything and every weird wall angle in different patterns of black and white, put in a black light, and wrote psychotically intense poetry and quotes about thermodynamics on the white parts. My stepmom had a daycare at the time and those kids used to love to come in my room and stare at the walls. Like they were on a field trip to a museum.
My parents were the polar opposite. I couldn’t put ANYTHING on the walls of my room. As a result, I took up drugs. That’s a science FACT.
Well I think letting me creative was my dad’s way of congratulating me for no LONGER being on drugs. So yeah, there probably is a direct correlation 🙂
I did drugs AND wrote angsty sh*t on my walls. My parents never came upstairs. I think they were frightened of me.
Th point is, drugs and walls are inextricably linked. (See: Pink Floyd)
I love Asian cinema, especially Korean movies. Love it. They come up with some seriously weird shit.
I love Asian cinema too, vesta. They always go in a really weird direction. Different Worl view, I guess.
Greg, they should do a tv show based on your life. On minute you’re painting your children’s rooms and the next is a flash-back to the college years. It would be fascinating.
What are you talking about? That’s what the movie clip above is all about. Greg: The College Years.
So that’s how you get rid of duckface, pull on the little appendage 10 times. Interesting.
I am so going to take advantage of that fact.
Violent Mother Fucking Pink. I love it. I refuse to ever paint my daughters’ room pink just for that reason – it’s damn near impossible to cover up when they move out.
Love the movie. I still can’t figure out Japanese people for beans.
Japanese people – They’re like LSD in human form.
The Internet is truly bottomless.
And quite a lot of it is topless too.
My parents let me paint my walls when I was younger
I didn’t do drugs, did end up huffing paint for a few weeks, maybe you are onto something…
I always learn shit when I come here. That is not what the internet is about sir.
Sorry, I’ll post some pictures of tits to make up for it.