Picassoschmasso

Yesterday I spent a lot of time playing with painting programs.

I also changed poopy diapers, washed pissy sheets, did dishes, made cookies and pasta, and played who-can-go-all-day-without-pooping with the dog.

But something tells me you don’t want to hear about that.

Anyway, so have you guys seen what is happening with technology these days? If I had some skills (and a stylus with a point) I could have totally painted a masterful work of art without once getting my fingers (and clothes and all the et cetera that goes along with that) dirty.

As it is, I painted these two…things.

And also, a portrait of Lucy that kind of made her look soulless. Like Chucky but weirder.

Oooh and yesterday the kids and I watched Ernest Scared Stupid.

Now, when I was thirteen or so and I saw that movie, I was scared shitless. Really. I’m not joking. Josh said it scared him too, which is how I know I married the right person.

But my best friend used to have that movie on video or something and while we all consistently got a kick out of Boogerlips and his bumper sandwich, I was apparently the only person who was not only terrified of the whole concept – this stupid redneck looses some demon troll who steals souls (I mean, hello? I live in Mississippi. Stupid rednecks are everywhere, who KNOWS how many stupid demons live in these civil war haunted grounds?) – but also the one scene where the little girl turns over on her bed and that damn troll has been laying beside her. Seriously people, that is the definition of stupid scary and I slept with my back to the wall for years after seeing that. Just thinking about it now gives me the horribles.

However, watching it yesterday in my grown up state, I am confused not only by how stupid I apparently was, but how movies like that ever got past the idea stage. Even my kids were like, “um, Mom, I think I need to go make sure Glory didn’t poop in her crate.”

Because even the possibility of cleaning up chunky bulldog poo is more enticing than Jim Varney and the troll who’s scared of milk (which I never really got the meaning of. The troll is afraid of love or something and so milk = love?).

Anyway, at least I have new painting programs to play with.

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