Brush-a-Brush-a-Brush-a

Z-Boy: Man, my forearms hurt.

Zube: All four of them?

Z-Boy: Shut up. Dork.

Six months ago I remember telling anyone who would listen that if I never saw another paintbrush again, it would be too soon. It is too soon.

In anticipation of putting our house on the market we are staining and painting the exterior and painting what we gave up on about, oh, six months ago.

I fucking hate painting. I really, really do.