That’s right. PAINT.

Look, not every blog post is going to be some profound exposition simmering with political limericks and philosophical commentary on modern society AND/OR me falling super hard on my butt. Sometimes I’m going to write about a stupid thing I did, and that stupid thing I did this week is PAINT A WALL.

FOR THE FIRST TIME.

BY MYSELF.

…SORT OF.

I MEAN LIKE I HAD A SMALL BIT OF HELP BUT MOSTLY IT WAS JUST ME.

Let’s begin:

My at-home filming studio is like Orlando Bloom’s acting ability. It gets the job done, but is still really sad. Unlike Orlando Bloom, however, my studio has been unpleasant to look at, what with my green screen being pinned to the wall with thumbtacks, my lights held together with pink rubber bands, and my microphone stand elevated by three empty LootCrate boxes. PROFESHUNALIZM.

I decided to mount my green screen proper-like and paint the other big empty wall with cool colors. That way I’ll have a background when I start making stupid YouTube videos that will waste my talent and really disappoint my mom. Win-win! Here was my sketch:

Pretty great, right? And to think I was able to hire an actual preschooler to draw it for me.

FIRST, I did what any intelligent individual would do. I contacted a seasoned professional for painting advice.

I was advised to start by covering the room in plastic like I was a vigilante serial killer.

Then, I gathered my cheap Walmart painting supplies. AND MY PAINT, DUHHHHH.

It was about 5 minutes later that I realized my air conditioning had stopped working and I was doing manual labor in a room that was, give or take, 3 degrees colder than the surface of the sun. This made me grumpy. Note the grumpiness:

That is a picture of all-natural unmake-up’d beauty right there. Just soak that in for a bit.

BUT THEN I FINISHED THE BASE COAT AND MY MIRTHQUAKE COMMENCED.

LOOK HOW GOOD I DID.

But nay, my journey was only halfway journey’d.

THE NEXT DAY, I picked up this homeless UFC fan from somewhere in the slums of North Vegas to help me tape the walls in preparation for the stripes.

Homeless Shawn and I decided to consume Wisdom Juice to give us a steady hand in our taping endeavor.

The following moments occurred but I can’t be expected to recall them in full detail. Thanks, Samuel Adams and your two-row malted barley and Bavarian Noble hops. I’M TRYING TO PAINT A WALL HERE, SAM.

Diligent. Precise. Buzzed and quietly wondering if my bug guy has been spraying for Bearspiders.

FINALLY, after many hot hours of inhaling paint fumes, my wall was painted. And dammit, I was proud of myself. And tired. Mostly the tired thing.

So, if you think about it… this blog was literally you watching paint dry. THANKS FOR THE VIEWS HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA