A brush with fate.
Now, I like painting as much as the next guy and he doesn’t like it worth a damn. The sad thing is, I’m pretty good at it. I can get right next to window sills and such and usually “cut them in” without using masking tape or fancy contraptions. There are a few things that drive me nuts about the job though. Every time I put the roller down, I am attacked by hordes of tiny flying saucers. Until I clean my glasses, at which time they beat a hasty retreat, knowing that the next time I see them, I... Sign in to see full entry.