okay...so, um, it's 2am and i've stopped working on those friggin "oh i'm going to work on ALLLLL these projects until they're finished!" projects. And, darnit, i'm tired. Sleep....i want sleep! But no, no sleep. Only painting. How is it possible that I can have five thousand parts to the 3 defunct paint sprayers that I have, but not the one part I need to replace the spring mechanism I just broke??? I adore paint sprayers and loathe paint sprayers. They are an ecstasy beyond milk chocolate and making whoopie when they work. But, they are like having a sadist give you a mammagram when they don't. Actually, I'd prefer to have my left boob squeezed in a vice than spend 12am to 1am trying to fix that darn sprayer. Is it clogged? Take it apart and flush it out. Nope. Reassemble. Is the little orange springy dingy inside clogged?? Take it apart. Blow air through the orange thingy holes and accidentally eat paint. Nope. *(*&^%$#@+ !! Put it back together. Is it that the paint is too thick? Take it apart and water it down. Reassemble and now it sprays...but...FOR GOODNESS SAKE! NOW IT'S ALL RUNNY AND OOZING DOWN MY NIGHTSTAND! DANGIT! And it's dripping all down my arm! Is there a dang sprayer in creation that doesn't drip! $#%@&#*)^! Damn Rachel Ashwellllllllll......urrrrrrgggggggh.
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I've given up and am sitting on the couch like a amoebic lump crusty with dried white paint on my arms and legs, and I'm watching Zooey Deschanel sing in some live concert in an awesone vintage dress, shaking a tambourine. I love her. Is it just me...but, she can't sing. I lllloooove her style. But she CAN'T sing! (except for in Elf) Simon C. would definitely called her Performance "bad caberet, i'm sorry to say dahling...very pitchy at tiymes...squeeky and annoying". Squeeky and annoying...oh...like my paint sprayer!
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