Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Lame post on Last Day of May

This staircase is my nemesis now. There is a good reason it hasn't been painted in ten years. It's like painting a Rubic's Cube that has been unscrambled and you have to visualize which parts will need paint and how you can reach them. Furthermore, I'm the worst painter in the world as several of you have witnessed. I think I abide by the Russ Peach law of painting which is, "never paint anything that you can drip motor oil on so the horses don't chew it." Unfortunately, Russ was one of a kind.

And when the hell did paint start costing $46 a gallon? Holy shit! I'm convinced anyone paying $46 out of their pocket HAS NO VALUE FOR MONEY BECAUSE THEY DON'T EARN IT. Not a chance in hell would a normal person who actually gets paid for their labor inch by inch with zero gray area (you produce or get paid nothing) pay $46 for one gallon of paint. Only a lawyer who gets paid win or lose would casually say, "I think we'll paint the porch this summer."
Yeah, if a painter worked on those same principles they would spill 50% of the paint in your toilet and still get paid $75K a year.
$46 dollars?? That was the cheap paint. I wouldn't even trust someone who gets their house painted because there is no way an honest dollar is being spent on super expensive paint. Not a chance in hell. They're probably running guns to Al Qaeda.

As for this project, I'm going to use $100 worth of paint, tops, and if that gets me to the last flight of stairs then I'm going to stop and write a big sign that says, "PAINT IS TOO DAMN EXPENSIVE" and leave it bare wood. $46 is a joke for a gallon of paint. Each brush stroke is like $2 worth of paint. Sherman Williams might as well have a cover charge to get in the door.
End of Rant.

Tonight, although I wanted to get spinach and tofu tacos at Dos Amigos I am conserving money (let's ignore the $14 worth of White Russians I wasted watching the Red Sox lose).
So, it was the old standby of vegetable stir fry and buckwheat soba noodles.
I overcooked the noodles and the frozen vegetables were tasteless. So I dumped salt on them and they tasted like salt.

Luckily, the chicken man delivered Faahm Fresh eggs so I made a deep dish ham and cheese and broccoli quiche. Together, the noodles, tofu and quiche made a dinner I could stomach.

Moving forward, the chances of me resisting the urge to get ice cream downtown at one of the three boutique scoop stores is very slim. I feel the diabetes and fat belly approaching but I have to have a cone of ice cream. Maybe a hot fudge sundae. Did I tell you all about Ted Drewes Frozen Custard in St. Louis? Custard is ice cream with 10% buttermilk, 2% egg whites and less than 20% overrun air. IT'S 100% AWESOME. I ate so much that my gut jiggles when I run up to the donut shop. I now wear suspenders to keep my britches up. They don't have custard here but my craving is beyond measure along with my hypertension. If they made white russian flavored frozen custard I think I'd die.
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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.