Frankenspouse is not enamoured of my paintings. But she indulged my daublings up to, but not including, hanging them in the house. Understandably, sophomoric cartoons of phalluses and daylight nightmares are not welcome in Frankenspouse Manor.
But Old Soc was a creep who was as conniving as he was
anathema. I painted directly onto the
doors. "Fuck you, bitch," I shouted thought as quietly as
possible, 'My art will be endured by you, by me, and by your friends when they
come around for coffee!'
All the internal doors at our place were lacquered brown.
Not tan, not beige, not even chocolate.
Just fucking brown. We have this pointlessly shallow cupboard at the end
of the corridor, which would glare at you like an oblong turd as you walked
down to the bedrooms. It was the first
to fall!
"If you're looking for me, lovey, I'll be out on the patio with a single-malt and the Fin Review"etc
Before you ask, I've no idea why the clouds are cubic. Some quasi artist bullshit I expect.
We were in the middle of replacing the floors which were just bare concrete at the time. Rather than leave a permanent scar on the floor, I took the opportunity to do this:
YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE IT LOOKS LIKE THE SUNLIGHT IS
FALLING INTO THE CORRIDOR
That 3D chalk guy can duck my sick!
I think I’ve assaulted your ocular input receptacles enough
for this day
Soc is a fraud
downinahole
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