Blue was the color of my true love's house
As you may remember, Tuesday was cool and overcast. The meteoroligists
all over the eastern seaboard warned, "Hey, it's gonna rain
later. I mean, look how overcast it is even now. Don't do anything
stupid, like painting your house on a day like today." Alas,
the crew hired by my oft-confused landlady apparently had no access
to radio, television, newspaper or the ability to look at the sky
and draw a conclusion. So they set to work, painting the facade
of the house in the loud blue paint that has become synonomous with
'home' to me, since the last place I lived was also doused in this
blue stuff.
And of course, as night fell, so came the rains. Paint dribbled
down the side of the building, collecting all over the front stoop
and area-way. Paint and dead leaves stopped up the drain inside
our gate door, where blue water pooled. Those of you fortunate enough
to have visited my abode will recall our front doors are rather
small and poorly placed. Getting in the house, even on a good day,
can be a challenge. So pretty much everyone who came into our house
ended up getting blue paint on himself. Even Mr. Bones seems to
be sporting a blue badge of ineptitude now (harder to tell on the
darker cats).
For the next three days, rain came steadily. The paint steaked
the front of the house; the neighbors mocked us. Well, they mock
us anyway, but this time I felt they had a point. On Saturday, we
awaken to find the same goofballs who thought rain-painting was
a good idea readying some loud equipment to remove the paint. They
covered the doors and windows with tarps and started blasting the
paint off.
Paint flew everywhere. It got on the neighbors house. It got on
the neighbors van (at least his van is blue). It got all over the
sidewalk and it dripped down the cellar door into the basement.
I spent five minutes explaining to the guy why he had to do something
to keep the paint from running into the basement. Worse still, we
realized we were essentially trapped inside the house. Even if we
could get the imbeciles' attention to stop spraying the house, venturing
outside would mean plodding through a pile of paint chips and dodging
paint falling from the building. Happily, they left at nightfall.
We slipped around our blue moat and discovered we had a new house.
Gone was the blue eyesore that helped identify our home to many
a weary traveler and pizza deliveryman.Our house is now bare brick.
I am now hoping the novelty of feeling like we have an entirely
new house will sustain me through the rest of these poorly-executed
renovations. If I am able to leave the house today I will take some
pictures of my new home.
Posted By Jimmy Legs
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