Just Call Me a Polack Pollock
About 2-3 years ago I undertook a project to paint the trim on the house. I was having a contractor re-stucco the place and wanted to change the color scheme a little. I tackled the front of the house which was a bitch. I had to climb up onto garage and paint the eaves on my back. There were a few different levels, so sometimes I was standing and sometimes laying. The roof really heated up during the day so it got more and more uncomfortable as the day wore on. But I finished it! It looked like shit up close because I was painting a lighter color over a darker, but from a distance it looked OK. That job wore me out, so I put off doing the back...for a few years. Finally I had had enough of the chipped and peeling old paint that I decided the time was now to tackle the back. I knew I would only be able to do half the job because there is no way in hell that I'm going to paint the upper eaves which would require an extension ladder and a fat old bear 20' up it with a can of paint. Oh hellz no. But I could certainly tackle the lower part. So that's how I spent my Sunday. Did I mention that I HATE to paint! Painting is what young married couples do when they buy their first fixer-upper house. Also, it's one thing to paint a nice flat wall inside. It's another to paint trim and eaves with all of the corners, plus half the time you're painting upside down on a ladder like Michelangelo. Nothing like having paint dripping and falling on your face and clothes. Fuck that shit! But I did it! Once again it looked like shit since I was painting light over dark, but I slapped on a second coat and it doesn't look bad at all. So there is some trim to do up high, but I'll let someone younger and more bendy to do that.